#dean winchester x niece!reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[zepskies]

Hi, do you know anyone who writes Dean x y/n Singer as in Bobby's daughter? Sorry if I'm spaming you.

No worries, hun! I like hearing from you! ❤️

I don't know of anyone who writes Dean x reader who is Bobby's daughter, but I did write "Never Say Goodbye," a series in which the reader is Bobby's niece. So that's close!

If anyone else knows or has any Dean stories where the reader is Bobby's daughter, please drop the link for our girl here in the comments.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Raging Storm

Pairing: Dean Winchester x 18!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: angst, being bullied, harsh insults, being called freak and worthless, someone wanting you to kill yourself, heartbreak

Request by anon: Hey can i request a one shot where the Winchester brothers and Castiel find out that before Michael and Lucifer go to hell they pregnant a woman that died giving birth to the reader (yn) that is the most powerful being in the existence and she is the first hybrid of all species, she is also the embodiment karma and the void, the princess of heaven and hell, the antichrist, Dean Winchester soulmate, the niece of angels and demons, descendant of the pagan gods and four horsemen of apocalypse, and more things and they need to find her because she is so powerful and she can destroy everything but in the end she is super innocent and shy girl???. with fluffy ending.

Summary: You've always been different than everyone else around you but you have no idea why. Things happen around you that you can't control or have no understanding of, but then Dean Winchester comes into your life promising to help make sense of it all.

Square Filled: window for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

This is the third week this month that the sky has been cloudy and gray. It’s fitting since it matches your mood. All you want to do is get through today and go home where you feel the safest. You hate it here. You’re about to graduate but it needs to come faster. You want to get out of this hellhole and away from these hellish people.

You look up and see your school in the distance with people shuffling into the building. God, I hate everyone here. You’re not even sure how it started but you walked into school one day and everyone hated you. The internet talks about bullying and how much it can ruin a person’s life, but you never knew it could get this bad.

You’re not sure why you’re getting bullied. Sure, you’re very timid and shy but you’re one of the nicest people there is. You’re sweet and friendly to everyone, but that doesn’t seem to matter to some people.

You keep your head down even when you get to school, ignoring the stares you get from some people. The first class of the day is science, which you love, but there are three people in that class that make those fifty minutes feel like hell. You take your seat in the very back by the windows when one of the most popular girls in school comes in. She is followed by her two friends who are basically puppies looking for attention.

“Look girls, the neighborhood freak is here.”

Your heart hurts at her words. You’ve always been bullied by her ever since you could remember. You two attended the same elementary school, the same middle school and junior high, and now the same high school. She’s been tormenting you ever since she knew she gained power by her words.

Maybe she senses you’re a bit different than everyone else. You certainly feel that way. Why do you feel different than everyone here? What makes you not the same as everyone else? That’s the reason why you get bullied because you don’t fit in. You don’t dress weird, have a pimply face, or are into weird things. Stacy took one look at you one day and decided you were going to be her target for as long as you let her be in power.

You haven’t found it in yourself to take that from her.

“What, have nothing to say?” she smirks and looks at her friends. “I hear her Daddy hits her while at home. Her whole family is a bunch of freaks.”

That’s not true. Your father loves you dearly. She’s just looking to stir up some drama, and the only way it’ll get worse is if you antagonize her.

“I heard takes poor defenseless animals and cuts them up,” one of Stacy’s friends says.

“You hear that, Freak? Better not get caught or else I might sic Darren and his friends on you. You wouldn’t want to end up like those animals, now would you?”

You put your head down and drown out her words with the beat of your own heart. The cloudy sky hasn’t gone away, in fact, it has gotten much darker since you’ve arrived at school. Stacy and her friends sit down next to you and gossip loud enough for you to hear every word they say.

Freak. Useless. Ugly. Burden. Waste of space. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. Freak. It got so much that you let your emotions get the better of you. Tears would stream down your face if you weren't in front of a bunch of people. Your heart jumps out of your chest just as all the windows in the classroom shatter around you, causing everyone to scream and back away from it. You stay seated, unsure if you did this or if something outside had caused this.

The storm clouds roll in quicker than anyone expects, and a light rain starts falling from the sky. Some of that rain comes inside but you barely feel the water on your skin. You look around at every person who seems scared of you. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you are a useless waste of space freak.

School is shut down for the day while authorities figure out what the hell happened. The rain comes down a tad harder than before but if you can get home, you can curl up in bed and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

As you’re walking, someone bumps hard enough into you that you almost go crashing to the ground.

“What did I tell you girls? She’s a super freak. Did you see what she did to those windows? How did you do that?” Stacy asks.

“Please, I just want to go home.”

“Are you a witch? A freak and a witch. God, why don’t you just go kill yourself? The world will be better off without you in it.”

“Please, just let me go home,” you beg.

“I like it when you beg,” she smirks. “Come on, bitch, beg to me like a dog.”

You’re not sure how this happened but you thought of her getting hit by lightning and then she suddenly was. She falls back in a fit of screams while everyone else but you jump out of the way to avoid getting hit. One of her friends ends up calling 911 but you’re already running away from the scene.

The rain pours down harder and lightning strikes near you to reflect how heartbroken you are. It seems like the weather follows exactly how you feel, and right now, you just want the world to swallow you whole. You don’t bother going home in fear you’ll hurt your parents. Instead, you run to the one place you feel safe outside of your own home.

“Alright, I have storms hitting New York and New Jersey, but I don’t think it’s what we’re looking for,” Sam says as he browses his laptop.

“I got a small tornado in Louisana.”

“Anything else?” Sam asks Cas.

“No.”

“Check this out,” Dean says before the group gives up hope. He turns the laptop so that the other two men can see the page he’s on. “There is a small town in Nebraska that is having rolling blackout storms like the city has never seen before, and the windows of the local high school had been shattered without anyone or anything touching it.”

“Do you think that’s her?” Sam asks.

“Gotta be. She’d be in high school by now.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The trio gathers everything they can before setting out to Nebraska. They’ve been tracking you ever since you were born because you’re one of the most, if not the most, powerful beings in the universe. You’re the offspring of Lucifer AND Michael when they decided to both have sex with a human woman at the same time. They manipulated their power to create one big super sperm (as Dean likes to put it) in order to create you.

You’re the Princess of Heaven and Hell, the antichrist, and the embodiment of Karma and the Void. If Dean had to guess, you don’t know just how powerful you are, and you don’t. They have to find you before you do something bad like level an entire town because you got upset over something. Your mother died by giving birth to you and your fathers went to Hell after being imprisoned in the Cage yet again.

Your foster family took you in, adopted you, and loved you with everything they got. There’s a reason why you felt so different than everyone else. You’re not human. You’re not like anyone else. You just don’t know why because you were never told what you are or taught how to be what you are.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel try to traverse the storm when they get into town. It’s gotten a lot worse and has residents fleeing from the city to seek shelter elsewhere. No one knows where this storm came from but they are preparing for the worst. The heart of the storm is where you’re at and gets lighter the further out it goes.

They track you to an abandoned farm you often go to when you want to be alone. You found this place while taking a shortcut home and made it comfortable enough for you to spend hours there. Now, you can’t find a big of comfort anywhere here.

The trio gets out of Baby and sees you outside the barn huddled on the ground. The rain is coming down in buckets but that won’t stop the Winchesters and Castiel from talking to you.

“Maybe I should go. You know, angel to half-angel,” Castiel offers.

“No, let me,” Dean says before he can stop himself. “You two stay here.”

“What? Are you crazy?!” Sam gasps.

“Sammy, I got this.” He leaves their side and approaches you slowly and carefully. You look up and see the three strange men which causes you to scoot away from them in fear. “Y/N, you’re okay!”

“Go away! I don’t know you!”

Lightning strikes the ground where Dean is, and he jumps back before he is struck. Sam wants to join his brother’s side but he knows Dean can handle this one alone. Plus, he’ll jump in if it looks like Dean is in trouble.

“Y/N, my name is Dean Winchester. I want to explain what is happening to you.”

“I don’t even know who I am!” you sob. “Go away before I hurt you!” Dean walks closer to you but you feel a sense of warmth coming from him. You can feel that he is a safe person to talk to which is why you allow him to come closer to you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so lost. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in!”

“Believe me, I get it. I understand how you feel.” He kneels next to you so you can see him without the rush of rain between you two. “I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people. I didn't think I belonged for a long time. Sometimes, I still feel that way.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” You fall into Dean’s arms and just cry, and he smooths down your drenched hair as a means to comfort you. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

“All I want is to be normal. I didn’t ask to be this way.”

“I know. You’re not alone, Y/N. My brother and I can help you. Castiel over there can help you. We can help you control this.” You sob into his neck uncontrollably. “You’re going to be okay.”

For some reason, you believe him, and the storm calms down just a bit both in your head and outside.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

*

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

*

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

[thebiggerbear]

Follow Me Into the Dark Part 1 - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The last person you expected shows up on one of the worst days of your life. Why on earth is Dean Winchester here and why is he asking you about your connections to the deceased?

A/N: Here we are. Part 1. This was what I originally intended for the "Sleep. I"ll keep you safe" prompt response but I ended up changing it because this felt too long to simply be a prompt response or even a one shot and I couldn't bear to cut it down to try to make it fit. It felt like the more it took form as I wrote, the more it deserved a proper fleshing out. So, alas, a short story. It's just an idea that I really had to explore. Not gonna lie, this might get a little dark. Hope this is alright.

This would be taking place during season 15.

All unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: implied familicide; implied deaths of children; angst; heartbreak; grief; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 4814

Series Masterlist

You sat in the pristine living room and stared at the coffee table as people milled around you. You could hear the hushed whispers of mourning for them, pity for you, and worst of all, judgment and condemnation of him. If you could, you’d throw each and every one of them out of this house right now. But it wouldn’t change the fact that they were gone. Every single one of them…gone.

You glanced up and caught sight of a framed picture of your niece holding onto her baby brother, smiling wide for the camera. You would never get to hold either of them again, chase Thea around the house and hear her squeals of laughter, tickle Tanner’s belly to hear those happy gurgles that only a baby could make — never again. A tear slipped from your eye that you quickly wiped away. 

You were just about to get up and head into the kitchen to try to escape the harpy on your right, loudly whispering about how she’d always known something was off, when two tall men wearing suits entered your vision. Your eyes widened when you recognized one of them, and his expression mirrored your shocked one.

“Dean?” You asked in disbelief. You felt as if you had been sucker punched. Of course, on the absolute worst day of your life, he would show back up. The universe clearly had it in for you and wanted to destroy whatever little piece of you that was left. It had already brought you to your knees but that wasn’t enough. As if you weren’t already hollow inside…it wanted to finish the job.

The taller man to Dean’s left glanced back and forth between you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

Dean looked at a loss for words for a moment but managed to answer with “You might say that.”

Seeing your face, Dean immediately looked apologetic. No, you couldn’t do this. Not today of all days. Not here, not now. “Right,” you muttered before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen as you’d planned to do prior to their arrival. You didn’t even bother looking back. Hopefully, Dean and his friend would just leave.

You busied yourself with doing the dishes; you figured you’d get a head start on them now. A kindly neighbor had offered to do them but you shook your head and took over, not saying a word. Thankfully, whoever had been in the room had vacated it, giving you your space. You were grateful because you weren’t sure if you could take one more “I’m so sorry, dear” or “Did you have any idea?” You threw yourself into the mundane chore, opting not to use the dishwasher next to you. You needed the distraction, to focus on something other than how you were broken inside. You did your best not to cry when you came across the coffee cup your sister-in-law had helped Thea to make for Father’s Day this year. It was similar to the “Best Aunt Ever” one they’d sent you for your birthday.

Several dishes later, you heard a quiet throat clearing behind you but you refused to turn around to look or stop what you were doing. You knew who it was; you’d practically felt him walk into the room.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry if—”

“Why are you here?”

That question seemed to throw him off guard. Good. “I wanted to say I’m—”

“No,” You cut him off before he could finish saying the two words you now hated with a passion. God knows he’d said it enough to you before he’d left you in the dust back in Sedona. “Why are you here?”

“We— I mean, my brother and I, we were in town and—”

You spun around, your eyes wide. “That was Sam?”

He gave you a nervous yet proud smile. “Uh, yeah. That’s Sammy.”

After a moment, you nodded and went back to doing the dishes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Dean had moved closer, looking unsure and slightly fidgeting. 

“So you… You knew the family?”

You stopped for a moment, thinking maybe you didn’t want to have this conversation that he seemed intent on having. You’d closed the book on him years ago and there was no reason to rehash any of it. It was the same old story anyway: girl meets boy; girl has incredible sex with boy; girl spends a few weeks holed up with boy; girl falls hard for boy and makes the mistake of telling him; boy immediately breaks her heart by telling her he doesn’t feel the same and then leaves girl behind to deal with the fallout of a shattered heart alone. Definitely nothing to rehash there. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Sam and I were in town and we just happened to see an article online about what happened.”

You huffed out a snort as you slipped another wet dish into the drying rack. “Article online about what happened…” 

“I meant that we—”

The anger that had been simmering all day suddenly started coming to the surface as you replayed his words over and over in your head. “Is that what you and Sam do? Look around for funerals to crash and poke around because you and your brother have some morbid curiosity you need to satisfy? To set up your next true crime podcast or YouTube channel? What?” 

“What? Podcast? No. That’s not what I—”

“You know what, Dean, I don’t even care. Just take your brother and get out. I have enough to deal with today without you screwing up my life yet again.” How dare he? He was definitely not the man you remembered. Or maybe he was; maybe he was the man who had used you and left you behind without once looking back.

He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder but that was it. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

You shirked his hand off. “Just go,” you yelled, feeling a sudden rush of fury charge through you. “That’s what you’re good at! Just leave, Dean, and don’t look back!” At the same time, the glass in your grip suddenly shattered, making you gasp as red rivulets began to run down your palm.

Dean was suddenly there with a dish towel, gently cradling your hand as he slowly pulled a small shard of glass out, making you hiss in pain. He then ran your hand under the water, eliciting another pained hiss, before wrapping the towel tightly around your hand. “There a first aid kit here somewhere?”

“In the bathroom, I think.”

Dean glanced over to where you gestured and nodded. “Alright, hold this tight and take a seat. I’ll be right back.” You did as he instructed, quietly thinking over what just happened. Dean was incredibly focused and on it, no hesitation, but that wasn’t what gave you pause. Where did that spike of anger come from? And more disturbingly, why did you have the strongest urge to throw that glass at him before it actually broke in your hand? You weren’t a violent person by any means; you never put your hands on another person, never had the urge to. Sure, you’d imagined slapping a guy that deserved it when he got too handsy while being an arrogant jerk one time but you never actually felt the burning impulse that you felt just before. You glanced over at the photo mug in the drying rack and tears sprang to your eyes as you felt your heart break yet again (how was there anything left to break at this point?) when you realized maybe you actually were that type of person after all. The very worst sort of person that had some darkness or bad inside them that was lying dormant waiting for the right victim to come along so you could unleash it on them.

You tried to shake the hopeless thoughts from your head. You knew that was your shock, grief, and misery speaking. Instead, you changed the lens to a logical one and began to explain away what had happened. Perhaps it had been Dean’s words or his very appearance. Or it could be what had happened and why you were here today. Or maybe it was even a combination of everything. The glass you had broken hadn’t been light, sure, but perhaps there had been a crack in it before that you hadn’t noticed. And it absolutely made sense that you were lashing out at Dean. He had shown up out of nowhere and began asking questions because of an article he’d read online, not even one of them being a simple ‘how are you?’. He hadn’t seen you in years and while he might not have known exactly who you were in relation to this situation, you were here for a funeral and you were washing dishes, everyone was trying to give you their condolences and watching you with pity — didn’t that account for something in his mind?

You didn’t have much more time to think on it when Dean suddenly reappeared with the first aid kit in hand. He laid it down on the table in front of you and slipped his jacket off, throwing it over the back of an empty chair. He quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves and took the seat next to you, gently taking your hand and carefully unfurling your fingers. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

You watched as he studied the slice in your palm. “Not too deep,” he approved. He then began checking your skin for any other glass fragments or cuts. When he determined you were good, he began to soak a cotton ball with peroxide before turning a wide smile on you. “Did you hear the one about the priest and the cop?”

Your brows furrowed. He was now trying to make jokes? Seriously? Not to mention, no, you’d never heard of that one nor did you want to. “The priest and the—” You let out a loud hiss and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you painfully whispered. 

You moved your gaze from the cotton ball being dabbed against your broken skin to Dean who was watching you intently. He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” you forced out as he continued to clean you up.

“So you didn’t tell me how you knew the family.” It was obvious he was trying to distract you from the painful stings of the ointment he was using but it also set your teeth on edge that he was still trying to get answers out of you that he wasn’t entitled to. 

When you didn’t respond, he glanced up at you expectantly.

Fine. Whatever. Let him judge along with all the others. I don’t care. It’s not like he matters to me anymore. “He was my brother,” you whispered.

Sure enough, his green eyes opened wide in surprise. “He was your brother?”

You gave a reluctant nod, choosing to glance around the room rather than look at him. 

“So the kids, they were…”

Your vision blurred slightly and you were unable to speak due to the lump that had been in your throat all day, making it hard to swallow. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You were resolved that you would not cry in front of anyone today, and you definitely would not cry in front of Dean Winchester. He’d seen enough of your tears back in Arizona.

You felt the movements on your hand cease altogether and you turned back to see the pity you’d been getting all day staring back at you. You hated it. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded as if on autopilot and dropped your gaze back to your hand, waiting for him to finish so you could get out of here, away from him, away from the pity and the judgment that was sure to follow. He resumed the bandaging a moment later and you both spent the rest of the time in silence.

His brother’s appearance broke it. “Everything okay in here?”

Dean glanced up at you before looking at Sam. “Uh, yeah. Just a little accident but she’s good as new.” You saw him wince slightly at the words though he tried to hide it. That ticked your irritation a little higher though you had no idea why.

“May I?” Sam asked you, pulling out one of the empty chairs. At your subtle nod, he took a seat. You knew you should introduce yourself, finally officially meet the younger brother you’d heard so much about years ago, but you didn’t have it in you. You also weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t move to introduce you or that it was painfully obvious that he had never told Sam about you which just made you feel worse. It didn’t hurt, not in the way it would have back then, but it was like someone scratched a nail lightly along a long healed scar you had which would make you flinch slightly, hoping the nail would go away and forever leave the injury site untouched. Like a crater in the earth from a small asteroid; best to just leave it be and let nature take its course.

You flexed your hand as Dean put the dressings back into the kit. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam offered.

Feeling that autopilot mode come back into play, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“I can’t imagine how tough this has been on you and your family.” You nearly snorted; what family? Perhaps they hadn’t noticed but you were it. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about Scott and Leah.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain at hearing their names, but not before you saw Dean’s head snap up to give Sam a look. “Not now.” He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. 

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head questioningly, but remained silent.

You decided you’d had more than enough and you slowly got to your feet. Dean stood up as well, his hands reaching out to you as if to steady you, hanging in the air and unsure. You simply stared at him until he lowered his arms and compulsively swallowed. You spared a glance over at Sam and then turned to leave.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks but didn’t turn around. 

“Is there anything we can do? Anything you need?” Dean softly asked.

Anything they could do…anything you needed… You needed your family back, you needed to turn back the hands of time and get here sooner when Leah had called you out of the blue last week and begged you to come talk to Scott, saying he wasn’t acting like himself and she was worried. But since that didn’t appear to be an option, you simply shook your head and quietly answered, “Thank you for coming.” You then continued your trek out of the room, past the people who continued to offer you empty condolences or mutter statements like “They seemed like such a happy family”, and headed up the stairs, not caring in the least that you had a house full of people expecting you to be present so they could offer meaningless sympathies to someone. You ran to the bathroom and shut yourself inside it, sinking down behind the door and burying your face into your arms, hiding until everyone left and you could be alone again. You may have let out a few tears, a few quiet sobs, but no one would ever know.

“Dean, we can’t just leave her,” Sam tried to reason with his brother as they passed the crowd slowly making their way out of the home and headed towards the Impala. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket, opening the back door of Baby to toss his jacket into. After you’d gone upstairs, he’d finished the dishes so you wouldn’t have to. He wouldn’t admit it to Sam but seeing the glass sticking out of your skin, you bleeding — it bothered him tremendously. It might have been a simple cut that had been easily patched up but it was you. It didn’t sit right with him just like this whole case hadn’t from the get go. 

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see you after all of this time, while he was on a case of all things. He had hoped you were off living your life somewhere, happy as could be, in love, maybe have a kid or two — whatever you’d wanted. He had wanted you to have a normal life, a life untainted by the things that go bump in the night, something he would never get to experience himself. That was why he’d done the impossible and left you back in Sedona all those years ago. Granted, he’d been young and untethered and idiotic but those weeks he spent with you, those he would never forget. You were gorgeous, funny as hell, great in bed, you had a killer smile, and oh did you have one hell of a kind heart. You were a good girl with a wild streak who for some reason picked him though you could have had any number of guys knocking at your door. How could he not have fallen head over heels for you? And when you told him you loved him, being the first to say it between you, he’d felt something he never had before. When he was sixteen, he thought he knew what love was but boy had he been wrong.

Dean had wanted to stay with you back then, to hunker down and see where things went between you. After all, what would it hurt to put down roots for a little bit and not have to travel from motel room to motel room? To not have to sleep in the Impala for once? Besides, if Sam got to go to college and live his life, why couldn’t Dean do the same for a little while? It’s not like he would be quitting hunting or abandoning his dad to it alone, so why not? He may have only been 23 but he wanted to experience something he had always dreamed about but was told he would never have, and he wanted to experience it with you. Hell, you didn’t even need to stay in Sedona; you could settle down in Phoenix or Mesa or Tucson — or even travel to a different state. As long as he had you, he didn’t care where the two of you settled.

But of course, that had only been a dream, a momentary fantasy that felt real enough to almost touch before it was snatched out of his reach. John had called and demanded that he haul ass to Las Cruces to help him on a werewolf hunt, reminding him that he had an obligation to the family. Especially now that they were one man down thanks to Sammy’s big college adventure. Dean had tried to tell his father about you and the plan you both came up with, he really did, but John wouldn’t hear of it. The older man insisted it was infatuation, not the real thing, that he was too young to think about settling down, not to mention he was a hunter. And his dad scoffed when Dean mentioned that the way he felt about you reminded him of the stories John used to tell him and Sam about their parents meeting when they were young. He even proudly mentioned that you knew the words to every one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs; he’d checked. He just knew John would love you if he’d be willing to meet you.

John then hit him with the truth that Dean had kept buried deep down and refused to acknowledge. If he stayed with you, you would never be safe. Even if he left hunting to be with you, you’d forever have a target on your back from every nasty evil thing he’d ever hunted. Just look at what happened to his Mary after she’d left hunting for a normal life. It followed her right up to Sammy’s nursery that night back in 1983 and killed her in front of his eyes. Dean’s own eyes had misted up as John’s words registered and from the silence, John knew he had been heard.

“Do what you have to do, son. I’ll see you in the morning.” The line clicked and Dean stared at the phone, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Needless to say, Dean had broken it off with you that very day, determined to ignore your tears and heartbroken pleas, knowing he was doing the right thing by you. He said what he knew you needed to hear, though it cut him up inside to say it. 

“I love you, Dean. Please,” you’d tearfully begged him. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to. I didn’t realize this was getting serious. I mean, we holed up together for a few weeks, we had some great sex, we had some laughs, some drinks, and a good time together, but that’s all it was ever going to be. You had to know that going into this, when you took me home from the bar that night. I’m pretty sure I even told you that I was only looking for a fun time while I was waiting for my next job. No strings attached because I’m just rolling through, remember?” 

As he watched the heartbreak play upon your face, he cowardly looked away as he rolled up his spare pairs of jeans and threw them into his duffel. If he looked at you, you’d see just how much you meant to him and just how much this was hurting him to have to do this to both of you.

“I’m 23 for Christ’s sake. I’m not looking to settle down, move in with a girlfriend, or get married and start cranking out kids. I want to live my life before I even start thinking about any of that crap.”

“But you said that you wanted to find a place together. You said you wanted to be with me. You said—” You whispered brokenly.

Dean’s jaw hardened and he turned away from you under the guise of grabbing his t-shirts and Henleys from the dresser drawer, shutting his eyes tightly. “It was just all talk. You know, us talking about what we’d do if our lives were different, what we’d want, like in a fantasy future. That kind of thing. I never actually meant any of it.” He heard the tiny gasp behind him and his fingers clenched around the material in his hands. Just get it done already. You’ve got work to do. The thought had been in John’s voice but Dean knew the thought was his own. He had to do this. He didn’t want to hurt you but he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t tell you why he had to leave and why he had to go without you. He couldn’t tell you that he was breaking your heart to keep you safe. He couldn’t admit that he was breaking his own so you could go and live a normal life, something he would never get to experience himself, so you could be happy after you forgot about him and dismissed him as a fun and wild lay that one time when you were young. That thought cut deeply into his chest and his resolve strengthened. No more drawing this out. You needed to let him go and move on; it was the only way to keep what he hunted in the shadows from ever touching you. 

“I didn’t think you did, either,” he forced out. Though he heard the beginning of a sob behind him in response, he made himself open his eyes and turned around to pack the rest of his stuff. He never allowed himself to look over at you to see the pain he’d inflicted on you; he heard it well enough.

Even when he threw his bags in the backseat of Baby and slammed the door shut, he refused to meet your wet gaze. He kept his hands glued to his sides, clenched in fists, because they itched to pull you into his arms for one last hug, for one last kiss to your head, but he wouldn’t allow himself to. He didn’t deserve it. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Without waiting for your response, he got into the Impala and started her up, revving the engine before pulling away from you for good.   

He would never forget the devastated look on your face in his side view mirror as he drove away from you, how you’d hugged yourself and brokenly turned to go back into the motel room the two of you had shared. It wasn’t any consolation but he was glad he’d handled the bill earlier and he’d even charged another week to one of the cards he had so this way you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. You could take a little time to figure out where to go from there. Sure, if his dad knew, he’d tear him a new one, but he never intended on telling John or anyone about you. You’d be better protected that way. No demon or witch could mine that information. And since he himself didn’t know where you’d go, they wouldn’t be able to get it out of him either. Not to mention, he told himself over and over that he didn’t love you until he began to believe it. That you two wouldn’t have worked out and you had just about run your course before John had called him. Who was to say that you two would have even been able to settle on an apartment or house to move into together? You barely knew each other. Plus, you were both young and you would change as you got older, as people do, and your dreams, desires, and needs would change. Either hunting would have taken a toll on the relationship or you would have grown apart. So, though it had been harsh, he had actually done you both a favor. He spared you both heartache later on by causing you a little at that moment. Dean was very good about compartmentalizing things when it suited him. You were safe and that was all that mattered. So yes, he made himself forget about you and how he felt about you, and he didn’t look back. That look of yours, though, that destroyed and heartbroken look…it had haunted him for months. But he told himself that if that was the price of protecting you, he’d gladly pay it. With enough alcohol, hunts, and faceless women, the memory of the look all but faded into the distance of the past. 

Eventually, time passed and then of course, Cassie had come along. He’d learned from what had happened with you and he’d been up front with Cassie about who he really was and that didn’t end well. Not to mention his time with Lisa and Ben. But over this period of time, he had also finally convinced himself that you had probably gotten over him and found somebody else who could give you the life he never could, the life you deserved. He wanted that for you and yet it seemed that no matter how hard he’d tried to give it to you in his own way all those years ago, the supernatural and all the pain and devastation it brought seemed to have found you anyway. 

“We’re not leaving her,” Dean assured his brother after breaking himself out of his reverie. Ignoring Sam’s confused expression at Dean opening the driver side door, he glanced up towards the upper level of the house, knowing you were hiding away somewhere beyond those walls. An elderly neighbor had assured him that she and her husband would stay in the home for the next hour or so in case you needed anything.

He slipped into the driver seat, followed by Sam getting in on the passenger side, and started Baby up. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, intent on getting to the motel to change and ready himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have with you now. Truthfully, it was a conversation he should have had with you a long time ago. It was time to give you the talk. He’d left you alone back in that motel room all of those years ago; he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

Series taglist: @globetrotter28; @roseblue373

Dean taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions

SPN taglist: @just-levyy

[shelbgrey]

Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons:

Paring: Dean winchester x Singer!Reader

Summary: just some headcanons about Dean dating Bobby Singer's niece. -NSFW content warring.

A/n: the winner of the latest poll, there will be a new one up next week. I was so excited and suprised on how many people did the poll, my first one only had six and the latest one had over 100.

❤️Mood board ❤️MasterList

Being Dean's girlfriend isn't always easy, but you get through it. So let's talk about it.

There was always something between you guys, but with your choice of life there was always something in the way.

You two practically grew up together, with Bobby being your uncle and John being his father you two were always around each other.

I think Dean also had a slight fear of Bobby, you were his niece and your practly his daughter.

Bobby wasn't clueless, he saw the way you two looked at each other. He wanted to kick Dean's teeth out, he's extremely over protective. Bobby also knew if anyone would keep you safe it wold be Dean.

“I know you'll take care of her”

On a side note, Bobby refuse to call you 'idjit'

The last thing he's said before he died was, “take care of my girl.. You idjits”

Anyway, Even if you two kept denying it or if your just clueless, everyone would know.

Other than Sam and Cas, your the only one he 100% trusts you. He'd trusts you with his life and your his partner in crime.

What makes your relationship stronger is that you started off as best friends and allies.

You always thought you were losing him, he would always have one night stands and there was Lisa. Of course they ment nothing to him, he just thought he'd never be good enough for you.

He thought you deserved better. “I'm not what you need...you deserve better”

That was the first time you opened your heart out to him, but he put his walls up. The he pretended like nothing happened... Until you went on one particularly hard hunt.

Everything was happing so fast thst neither one of you remember that night. There was blood everywhere and Dean did everything he could to save you, Castile healed you and Dean confessed something he's been wanting to since he was 18.

“I love you... Please don't leave me, I can't lose you”

Since everything moves fast in your lives you both decided to take things slow. Dispite his rugged appearance he's nothing but a gentleman to you.

He's extremely over protective of you, to the point hunts with him got annoying.

“I'm not some damsley in distress, Dean!”

He knows what a badass you are and he knows you can hold your own, but he can't help but be your shield.

That's really the only times you fight, your both very reckless and laugh in the face of danger. You guys stress each other out on hunts.

But, lets get to the good stuff now.

Your the only other person who can drive the impala, you'd rather just have him driving with you setting with him.

You guys love the same music, so your always singing on the top of your longs to old rock songs. Your guys song is Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band.

You always have to be sleeping next to each other to get a goods night rest, even when you weren't together you two shared a bed in the old motels.

Dean refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.

You bake the best pies in his opinion and Sam loves your homemade salsa.

When you guys moved into the bunker you guys made great use of the kitchen, Sam loves your guys cooking.

Speaking of Sam, he's one of your best friends. Cas is your first, but you and Sam have a long history together. You were even the first one to hear he got accepted into college.

We know Cas is like the Winchesters gardian angel, well Gabriel is yours.

About three years into yours and Dean's relationship you broke up, it was around the time Sam went to hell and you guys just pushed each other away.

Gabe knew you guys loved each other, so he worked really hard to get you back together. He did succeed.

You guys might argue about the little things, but he always know how to make them better.

You guys just like staying in and watching movies or Scooby-Doo. You guys love cuddling up in the Dean cave and just ignore the world for a few hours.

He loves cuddles, if your in bed or on the couch he needs to be holding you. He loves it when he's laying in bed and your lying on top of his chest.

He also loves it when you hold him, maybe after a rough hunt he'll love just rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

You love just being in his arms, there's no feeling better than that. He loves snaking his arms around you and resting his chin on your head because he just really needs to being close to you.

He's really just a big ol' teddy bear.

He's a rough kisser, he's way taller than you so usually he hold your chin between his fingers and lift for head up to kiss you.

There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.

He also loves it when you kiss his forehead. It just a small, loving gesture he absolutely loves.

If your cold you'll steal his flannels or his jackets, he had this black and red flannel that he now only sees if your wearing it.

when ever your busy doing research Dean always deliver a tiny kiss on your forehead. He'd just be walking by and he'll give you a quick kiss just to make you blush.

He's good a making you blush, he thinks it's adorable.

Trust is a big part of your relationship, you both had opened up about the abuse your fathers and dumped on you. That was the reason Bobby took you in, he could bare you being in the type of environment he grew up in.

With that Dean made a promise to never hurt or scare you. He refuses to lay a hurtful hand on you. It'll break his heart if you flinch away from him during an argument.

As much as you love Dean, demon Dean scares the hell out of you. The demon knew this and used it to his advantage. He Dean went back to normal he could barely look into your eyes. He blamed himself for the bruises around your neck the demon caused.

“I promised you I'd never hurt you... I'm so sorry” he said. “it's not your fault”

On a more positive side... You guys have lots of nicknames. You call him Deano or bub and he calls you just about anything but your actual name, Sweetheart is your favorite.

And with FBI names, you take a different approach. While he uses rock aliases you use actor or fictional names.

“agent Sweets, really?” he said playfully. “What? I like the show Bones”

Your like a mother to Claire, she loves you so much and your the only person she trusts other than Jody and the boys.

Speaking of Jody, she took you under her wing immediately. You never had a mother growing up so it was a relief to have her in your life.

You become a mother to Jack too, and your relationship hit a really bumpy road during that time. You hated how Dean treated Jack and it always turned into a fight.

“if you touch him, I swear to God, Dean!”

Den didn't want to be like his father and after awhile Dean's shell broke and he started to grow a soft spot for him, after your lives calmed down you both did end up adopting Jack.

But to legally do that you had to get married. You both wanted to get married so bad, but with your lives you never got the chance.

You weren't gonna get a white wedding, you knew that and Dean thought the Cort house wasn't good enough. So you got married in the church of Elvis in Las Vegas.

NSFW headcanons:

Dean prefers being on top and being the one in control.

He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

Bondeg kink, ropes, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

definitely a fan of overstimulation, he loves the way that your body twitches and you whimper from his touch.

car sex! All the way. loves to take you in the back of the impala, loving the way the windows fog up and the small area gets loud with the noises you make.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He would really get off on marking you up. He didn’t think he would, as it wasn’t something he thought too much about but when he did it there was no turning back.

He definitely has a Praise kink too, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

“you feel so amazing Sweetheart”

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

[apocalypseornaw]

Real or Not (Pt 3/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and the boys meet up with Camila

@lacilou you wanted pain

A/N: remember before you get too mad at Dean there's 2 more chapters!!

If there was one thing you'd learnt in your life especially as a hunter was using the fake it till you make it method. Bobby always said to keep your shoulders squared and head held high, even when you were terrified because it put forth the idea that you weren't.

You'd been silent the entire two hour car ride. You didn't want to speak to Sam nor Dean. You'd even taken the backseat saying you just had a small headache and wanted a quick nap. Rather Dean believed you or not you weren't sure.

"Maybe he doesn't care" the moment the thought slipped through your mind you felt a little bit of guilt for having such little faith in the man You'd spent the last few years in the bed of and so long before that as a friend to. He cared he just didn't assume to think you would lie to him.

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

You actually almost dozed off about the time you felt the impala slow down and looked up to see Dean was pulling into a motel parking lot. You took a deep breath the moment you spotted Camila's mustang. You could do this, you were pretty damn professional when it came to the job, people were at risk.... kids. You could swallow anything you threw your way if it meant saving kids.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at you and you could see the unspoken question in his eyes "Sure you ok?" You gave him a small smile as Dean parked. You climbed out slowly, smoothing a hand down over your hair. You could do this.

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

The moment the door to room three twenty two opened you heard Donna's voice flash through your mind "No one can make you feel bad about yourself unless you let em"

Camila was well if you were being honest nothing short of gorgeous. She was five foot nine so she was leggy, dark black hair was braided back in an intricate style leaving her bright blue eyes clear. The moment she spotted Dean a smile split her face and you felt your heart drop. You could do this.

She walked over to the three of you, her attention clearly on Dean as she said "Thanks for coming. I knew I needed backup as soon as I figured out what I was dealing with" Dean nodded "Sure thing" then turned towards you "You remember Y/N don't ya?"

Camila's eyes narrowed slightly when she looked at you but schooled her features before Dean or Sam saw it "Of course! You're Vivians niece" you forced a smile onto your face "That'd be me" Dean reached out and pulled you into his side "Well since we're all caught up want to update us on the case?"

If looks could kill you'd either be in heaven or hell just from the way Camila stared you down once she realized you and Dean were indeed together and it wasn't just a rumor floating around the hunters mill.

"Of course Deany" you felt yourself bristle but held it in. Kids were at risk, you had to remind yourself that.

The location of where the kids had to be was narrowed down to two places. You stood next to Dean, across the table from Camila and Sam. Like it or not this was her case and her lead. She smiled at you "Y/N, we both know these two work best as a team as why don't they take one location and we take the other" there was something in her eyes, a challenge. She thought you'd back down.

You returned her smile fully "Guessing we're taking your car then because mines home at the bunker" She nodded "Of course"

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

You were at the trunk of the impala taking one of the impromptu flamethrowers Dean held out. You were hoping your feelings weren't showing on your face but those hopes were dashed when he said "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded "Aces" he stared at you for a second then nodded "Be safe, come back to me in one piece" it probably shouldn't have bothered you but when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead instead of your lips you felt your stomach drop. He kissed Jody, Donna and Charlie on the forehead, not you.

You refused to fight before a hunt so you smiled "You too" then walked over to where Camila stood, very much looking like she was planning to feed you to a changeling.

"Ready to go?" You nodded as you heard the boys shut the doors of the impala. The moment the engine roared to life her smile dropped "a little strange he doesn't kiss you before a hunt, he always called it a good luck charm when he was with me" you felt your mouth fall open at her comment but once again that overly friendly mask fell into place "I'm kidding of course! I know this is a little awkward"

You laughed lightly but the only thought you had was to knock her perfectly white teeth down her throat and say you were joking. Instead you climbed into her car and shut the door.

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

You walked through the abandoned warehouse slowly, checking every corner. The further you walked the more you were beginning to think the boys had caught the action. Camila was nearby, you could hear her footfalls echoing.

"Ya know Y/N, how long have you been with Dean?" You rolled your eyes before saying "Should we really be discussing my relationship mid hunt" she let out a bark of laughter "Oh come on sweetcheeks. It's apparent thr boys caught the fun. Why can't we talk a little"

You spun on your heel to see she was about two feet from you "I've been with Dean a few years" she nodded slowly "when did you move into the bunker" you shrugged "a few months after they found it" "so right after me and him broke up?" You shrugged again "Don't keep up with other people's relationships"

You started back walking, with intentions to head outside but stopped when she said "Funny that timeline is around the same time I told him to move on that I wasn't coming back to him" You felt your shoulders tense "What are you trying to say here Camila?"

She walked around you to be facing you before a smile slipped onto her face "Dean got with you because he couldn't have me. Want me to pull up the emails from us talking? Of him telling me how he loved me?" You knew your face had fallen even before she said "Oh honey did you think he followed up this" she motioned to herself then to you "With that?"

You'd taken enough, you swung on her felt a sense of satisfaction when it connected solidly. Instead of trying to swing back she simply cradled her jaw and smiled despite the blood dripped from her now split lip "I hit a nerve. You know I could have him back tonight. He loved me more than Lisa or Cassie. I went through thinking he wasn't what I wanted but he is, and you need to face it"

"If he still wants you why is he with me then?" You asked, mustering every ounce of false bravado you could. She took a step towards you "Did you know he was looking at rings at one point? He would've stopped hunting if I'd asked. Does that really compare to you and him? Has he even said he loves you?" You didn't reply but your face must have shown because she made a tsk tsk sound "You poor thing"

You could feel your hands shaking by that point and damn her she grinned "Oh feel free to hit me again! I can play victim then! Dean I don't know what happened she just attacked me" you motioned to the door of the warehouse "Leave now"

She motioned around "What, are you gonna walk?" You squared your shoulders and got nose to nose with her "If Dean wants a two faced bitch over an honest woman so fucking be it but I won't be disrespected" she cackled like a mad woman "You're a crazy bitch" before turning and walking out.

You waited until you heard her mustang pull over to let the tears that had been threatening to escape fall. She'd just picked at every fucking insecurity you had. Maybe she was right, if Dean loved her enough to even consider giving up hunting maybe you should take yourself out of the equation.

You walked out into the cool night air about the time your phone started ringing. It was Dean. You answered it "Hello?" The voice that hit your ears made your heart freeze over. Camila replied "Told ya" you hung up and stared at your phone before hitting Donna's number.

---------

You climbed into Claire's car and knew she had questions from the look in her eyes but luckily she didn't say anything besides "You headed to Donna's?" You nodded slowly before turning off your phone. Dean's number kept calling but you refused to hear Camilas voice any more. She'd won, you'd lost the man you loved.

@psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@lacilou @saranghaey @stoneyggirl2 @marimarvelfan @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @backtotheshitshow @jackles010378 @leigh70 @diagnosedpsychosis @badassbitch-21

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 1

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: None really in this first chapter.

Word Count: 2,656

A/N: Okay, so this is the series that I orphaned over on fanfiction.net and I conducted a poll on what people wanted me to do with it if I brought it over to Tumblr. Converting it into a Dean x Reader AU won quite handily. So, that's what I'm doing. I hope you enjoy.

Just so everyone knows, this is a historical AU set in 1900, and there is no hunting involved. (Though there is a family business. 😄)

Dean Winchester was bored; he admitted it. He was bored of the balls, the soirees, the empty conversations, the glittering jewels and the painted smiles. He needed a break. So he'd left New York City and all its glamor and come to Newburgh to spend time with his brother, Sam, Sam's wife Jessica and their little girl, Lucy.

However, now that he was standing in the quiet train station, waiting for Sam to pick him up, he had to wonder what he'd been thinking. With the sleepy ticket agent sitting behind the counter, gently dozing, and an old man sitting on a bench, lazily browsing through a local newspaper, this no longer seemed like a solution to his restlessness and boredom. This place actually seemed like the town that boredom was born and raised in!

But what could it hurt to stay for a week or two? He'd visit with Sam and Jessica, see how much Lucy had grown in the last year and maybe it would wash away the taste of sweaty, over-crowded ballrooms and smoky parlors with too much lemon furniture polish.

He shook his head. He didn't know what had gotten into him lately. That life was all he'd ever been interested in. Certainly, he'd never wanted his brother's life. Slaving away at his private law firm, saddled with a wife and child, and living in the middle of nowhere, a six hour train ride away from civilization; it had always horrified him.

In the last few months, however, the idea of breathing fresh air, of laughing with and even arguing with his brother, of bouncing his niece on his knee, and even the idea of listening to Jessica's bouncy chatter, had been growing in his mind until it was a constant disruption in his thoughts. So, he'd left the reins of his family's shipping and trade business in the hands of his very capable manager and sent a telegram to Sam that he was coming to stay, and to pick him up at the station.

But Sam was late. Dean had been waiting nearly an hour. Tired of standing around, Dean decided to wander a little. He woke up the ticket agent briefly to ask if he could leave his suitcase behind the desk with a message for his brother. The agent yawned and gave him a pen and paper, reaching over to take his suitcase.

"Thanks." He said to the agent, and set off on his quest to cure his boredom. There had to be something in this town to interest him.

Sam,

Got tired of waiting for you. Went exploring. Be back in an hour - two o'clock.

D.

***

Y/N breathed in deeply, and let out a long sigh. The air was crisp, fall air that smelled faintly of damp leaves, spice, and wood smoke. It was a warm and inviting smell and it made the lonely chasm inside her heart widen.

"Miss Y/N, watch!"

Y/N gave her attention back to the little girl who was running down the hill, scattering the birds, and laughing loudly. She couldn't help but smile at the little hellion. It might not be very ladylike behavior, but she wasn't even four years old yet. Y/N decided to save the admonishment and let her be a carefree little girl while she could. These years of innocence and abandon were fleeting. The little one should enjoy them.

"Hello."

Y/N jumped abruptly at a man's deep voice. With a hand over her thumping heart, Y/N turned to scowl at the stranger who'd startled her. As she looked up into his face however, her scowl melted and her heart started beating hard enough to jump out of her chest.

The man was smiling at her, a smile that hitched up one side of his mouth and made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. He was very tall, towering above her where she sat on the park bench. The perfectly tailored, brown traveling coat he wore stretched across broad shoulders and narrowed in a V shape over his flat stomach. His wool pants were of very fine quality and accentuated the strength and muscle of the legs beneath them.

He was beautiful, there was no doubt, but his eyes were something more than beautiful. They were a bright emerald green, long-lashed and penetrating. They stared into Y/N, like he could see through to her back collar button. His eyes alone caused Y/N to blush and she realized she was blushing because there were promises in his eyes, promises of something dark and sensual and all consuming.

He was speaking. She tried to clear the buzzing in her brain so she could hear him.

…"Dean."

She shook her head. "What?" she asked quietly.

He chuckled softly and Y/N's stomach clenched at the sound.

"Dean. I said my name is Dean Winchester and I asked you for yours."

"Y/N!"

At the sound of her name, Y/N turned, thinking wildly for a moment that someone had simply been telling this man her name, but then she realized it was Mr. Winchester, her boss. And as she realized this, the name the man had just given her penetrated through the haze in her mind.

She looked back at the stranger. "Winchester?"

But he wasn't looking at her anymore; he was looking at her boss who was jogging slightly towards them. "Dean!" he called out. "You weren't at the station, so I thought I'd track you down. Sorry I'm late." Mr. Winchester threw his arms around the man and pulled him into what looked like a bone crushing hug. But the man simply pounded Mr. Winchester on the back before her boss turned to face her.

“You’ve met my brother?”

***

Dean closed the door of his wardrobe and leaned against it, closing his eyes so he could bring that perfect face into his mind's eye. Beautiful (y/c) eyes, soft features, and an incredibly succulent mouth. He'd immediately had plans for those perfect lips and he'd already begun imagining them beneath his own, or moving down his body, slowly…

Then suddenly, he'd heard his brother's voice and was crushed in an embrace. When he pulled away, he could see the woman (Y/N?) was blushing profusely and trying to stare a hole into the ground.

He had quickly learned this woman was governess to his niece, his brother making the formal introductions. Lucy came running over and launched herself into Dean's arms.

"Uncle Dean! What did you bring me?"

"Lucy, manners." Sam had scolded. 

But Dean chuckled, and pulled gently on one of her braids. "I have lots for you, kiddo, but it's back at the station."

So, Sam had herded them all back towards the station. He'd told Lucy and her governess that they should get into the carriage as well and ride home with them, but Y/N had refused quickly, blushing again.

"No. Thank you, Sir. You're very kind, but Lucy needs to stretch her legs and wear off her energy. We'll walk back. I'll have her ready for supper at six o'clock." With that she took off with Lucy's hand in hers, walking fast enough that the little girl had to jog a bit to keep up.

"What did you do?" Sam had asked immediately, cuffing Dean none too softly in the back of the head.

"What?" Dean asked innocently. "I barely said two words to the woman."

"Really?" Sam asked, disbelievingly. "Well, two words from you and my level-headed, almost stoic, governess has turned into a blushing school girl."

Dean had just grinned. Sam rolled his eyes and cuffed him again.

Now Dean was changed out of his traveling clothes and into a fresh suit having bathed and rested. And he was bored once again. Sam had returned to his office in town to see his last client of the day and Jessica was out paying calls. He wandered around their modest, but beautiful home, reacquainting himself with the warm wood floors, expensive oriental rugs, and the smell of freshly cut flowers that Jessica grew in a hothouse in the back.

After a half hour, he was officially restless and all the signs of his brother's apparent domestic bliss had him desperate to find a distraction.

He wandered into the library hoping to find a book that might do the trick. Instead he found the beautiful governess he'd met so briefly. She was sitting on a green chair in the corner. She had her legs tucked up on the seat and one stocking clad ankle was showing as it peaked out from beneath her skirts. Lucy was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed she was taking an afternoon nap.

His body thrummed with desire immediately and he had to give his head a shake. He wasn't some green boy about to lift his first skirts. He needed to get control of himself.

Then she looked up from her book, sensing him, and her look of surprise mixed with the innocent desire that flooded her gaze took that control away in an instant. He pictured pulling her into his arms, and ravishing her sweet, lush mouth, which was now open slightly in surprise.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I apologize, Miss Y/L/N. I seem to startle you each time I see you."

She closed her mouth and shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Winchester. I'll leave you to your reading." She stood to go, but Dean leaned against the closed library door and crossed his arms.

"No, I'd like you to stay, please. Can you recommend a book? What are you reading?"

She took a moment before answering, swallowing several times. She held up the small book. "It's a book about biblical poetry."

"Oh?" Dean couldn't think of anything less interesting, but he moved to her side, and took the book from her hand as an excuse to get closer.

The scent of something sweet, but spicy hit him as he stood near her, making his head foggy, so it took him a moment to register what he was reading as he looked down at the page she'd been on, it was marked with a piece of ribbon.

Taking the ribbon out, he read the words again and then looked back at Y/N with an incredulous expression. "You were reading…this?" He turned the book back to her and pointed his finger at one passage in particular.

"Yes, that's right." Y/N confirmed. "I must confess, I'm not much of a poet, it all sounds fairly confusing to me. This poem talks about a man and woman who are gardening. What a mundane subject to write poetry about." She shrugged delicately. "But it is biblical, so I thought it could only enrich my mind."

Dean couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across his face. "This is the Song of Songs. It's love poetry."

Y/N looked puzzled. "Love? Of what, gardening?"

Dean's smile deepened. "It's written in metaphor. You know what a metaphor is, don't you?"

Y/N's expression became slightly annoyed. "Of course I know what a metaphor is, I'm a governess."

"Of course." Dean said and suddenly he had a wonderful idea. "Let me see if I can help you see the metaphor here. Sit back down, and allow me to read this section to you and see if you understand."

***

Y/N was trying hard to pull air into her lungs without appearing to pant. There must be something truly wrong with her that made these kind of thoughts run through her mind. She couldn't focus her gaze on anything. When she looked into his eyes, thoughts fled completely and her mind was just a rolling mass of red haze.

So, she tried to focus on his neck. But the column of his throat and square corner of his jaw, with it's slight shadow of stubble made her breath catch again. She looked lower to where his hands held the book. But his hands were large and his fingers were long and thick, with blunt squared tips. They made visions pop into her mind's eye, visions that no respectable lady would be having. She pictured those fingers taking hold of her hand, wrapping around it, she imagined the warmth of his skin on hers, and soon she was nothing but a mass of nerves again.

She was very proud of herself for getting words past her lips. But then he'd suggested he read to her and she heard herself agreeing. A part of her mind was telling her to simply leave, but she thought it might seem rude, he was the brother of her employer after all. So she sat.

He opened to her page and began:

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My beloved is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

Y/N listened and the words themselves held no new meaning, she could find no metaphors in them. But she heard the husky timbre of his voice, heard the low rumble as his tongue and lips formed the words, and she suddenly knew that what he was saying was scandalous. She could hear the impropriety in his voice, knew it from the way it made her shiver. Quoting the bible shouldn't create such a hedonistic reaction!

She jumped to her feet, unsure of what her next move would be, but she knew she couldn't stay in this room alone with this man another minute.

Dean stood slowly, putting the book down.

"Did you like it?" He asked and his voice was rough and low, slow and drawling.

She shook her head. She definitely didn't like this feeling. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton and her body tingled. He stepped closer to her and reached out to take her hand.

It felt exactly as she had imagined. It was warm where his fingertips held hers.

"I just realized that when we were introduced earlier I was very rude. I didn't even offer a kiss for your hand."

He tugged gently on her hand and she shuffled forward until only a few inches separated them. Her breathing was rough and her mind screamed at her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead she watched as he brought the back of her hand up to meet his plump lips. They were smooth and warm, and his breath just heated her skin there.

He moved his lips slowly, turning her hand in his so he could kiss the inside pulse point of her wrist. She had to tell him to stop. He was behaving with unbelievable impropriety. But his lips…they moved again, grazing her skin as they did, up to the tip of her thumb. Then he kissed the tip of each finger, before grasping her hand more firmly and pulling her the last inch toward him, so that now she could feel the heat radiating off of him. He dipped his head and she felt his lips in the center of her palm. Suddenly she felt his tongue flick out briefly to taste her.

It was the jolt of fire that shot up her arm that brought her to her senses. She gasped loudly and wrenched her hand out of his. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the mouth that had brought on such a feeling. Then, desperately, she bolted from the room, trying to outrun the image of the heat burning in those stunning green eyes and of the wide, sensual mouth she suddenly longed to feel against her own.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

[weasleywinchester]

Save Yourself - Ch. 19

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Oh For One So Pure

Series Summary: “I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t. Chapter Summary Jack is gone. Well, you know exactly where he is; with Mary in what you’ve all agreed is the Apocalypse world. Do any of you know how to get there? No. But what are Winchesters really good at? Distracting themselves with hunting. When Donna calls in a favor for hunting down a possible not-so-supernatural creep, the three of you practically leap through the phone. But this case, and the multiverse problem none of you know how to untangle, bring up some dormant feelings about what it means to be a hunter… and even more about what it means to be a Winchester.

Warnings: Cannon typical violence, some fluff, some sad feels

You’ve been a Winchester long enough to have seen some crazy shit. And you’ve been a Supernatural fan long enough to know all the crazy shit. And when Donna called in a favor to find her niece, you kinda hoped it would be the most black and white monster case you could find. And as expected it was not. Finding a black market ebay for body parts wasn’t something you thought could exist. But if there’s a market, someone will always be there to fill it.

“I can’t believe you’ve been through this.” You grimace as Doug’s temporary fangs disappear.

“At least everyone here has souls.” Dean looks over at Sam, who purses his lips together as if he wishes he could forget that whole incident. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly silence it.

“That’s the fourth time it’s rung.” Dean comments, raising a brow at you.

“Becky. I missed the last two meetings.” You confess. You were normally pretty good about warning her when you’d be busy with a hunt; but everything with Jack being so unpredictable…

“Call her back, we should be back at the bunker tomorrow.” Dean gives your hand a squeeze. You nod and walk out into the brisk night air.

“Hey, sorry about the last couple of weeks-”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” She shouts into the phone. “I thought the worst when your phone kept going to voicemail.” She lets out a long sigh, taking a few deep breaths.

“I could see that.” You chuckle.

“Don’t give me a heart attack like that!”

“I’ll do better in the future.” You hold up your hand in surrender. “But what’s up?”

“I have a few design projects I thought you could brainstorm on… And Sera’s been asking about the possibility of continuing the Supernatural books?” Her voice goes an octave higher at the mention of the books.

“Send me the ideas for the stuff to design-”

“Doug, wait!” You hear Donna yell.

“I’ll get back to you about the books-” You reach for the door to go back inside when it swings open and Doug runs into you.

“Doug?” You frown as he gathers himself. “Becky, I gotta go.” You abruptly hang up, lightly grabbing Doug’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s the rush?”

He stops, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Why do you stay?” He whispers, the defeat clear in his voice.

“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave Donna high and dry-“

“Why do you stay with Dean? Knowing about the– the monsters?” He corrects. The panic rolls off of him like a fog, tendrils curling and whispering for you to get lost in it. 

“What do ya mean?”

“Your husband fights vampires, werewolves… monsters! Things that aren’t supposed to exist! How can you stay?” He harshly whispers, as if saying it too loud makes it any more true. You stare blankly at him; sure you’ve seen plenty of people shaken after their first encounter with the supernatural; but Doug? He’s had to have seen gruesome stuff in his time on the force.

“It’s his job,” you frown, “It would be the same if he were in the military or law enforcement.” You watch as he recedes into his whatever panic storm is happening in his mind. “Are you ok? Did you talk with Donna?” You place a hand on his shoulder, his whole body deflating at your touch.

“I wanted to be a cop to help folks. I didn’t sign on for monsters.” He looks off into the distance, the recent horrors he just witnessed clearly dancing in front of his eyes.

“That’s all Dean and Sam do, save people.” You smile, leaning forward until you catch his gaze. “They unfortunately didn’t have a no monster option. It’s also why Dean gets three hours of sleep a week, can drink a liquor store dry and has enough trauma that any regular person would go insane.”

“And you’re ok with that?” He scoffs, shaking his head at all the terrifying possibilities about what your words mean.

“I didn’t marry him because I think I can fix him. I love him, as he is.” You shrug, watching the thoughts churn in his head as he tries to figure out the next move. “You’re really going to give up Donna because she fights monsters?” You haven’t spent nearly as much time with Donna as you like, but the one thing you know for sure if you both will hang onto your husbands no matter the price.

“I don’t think I’m strong enough.” He whispers. You sigh, pulling him into a hug.

“She thinks you are. And so do I.” You squeeze him tight. “Can I tell you something?” You ask as you let him go. He gives you a small nod, wiping a tear away. “Leaving Donna won’t make the fear go away. It won’t stop you from looking at every person differently. It won’t change the fact that you know what lurks in the dark. But trust me when I say that having her by your side is better than any future without her.” He studies you for a moment, brain calculating all the scenarios.

“Does Dean feel that about you?” He whispers. 

The question punches you right in the gut. It should have been a simple answer. A yes of course he does, that’s why we're married. But your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. Every moment where Dean has pushed you away, told you to leave, to forget, comes rushing to the forefront. And here you stand. Telling Doug he should stay; that he should want to stay. But you have no evidence that it would be good for him; that he could continue on with his life as normal. The one thing you learned being with Dean is that you were involved with the family business whether you wanted it or not. It’s just how it went being close to a hunter.

The motel door creaks open, Sam and Donna making their way to the car.

“Ready sweetheart?” Dean asks, taking your hand.

“Ya.” You smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze as you turn back to Doug. “Talk with Donna, she deserves that. You both deserve to make a decision together.” You give Doug a small smile, letting Dean guide you to the car.

_______

One thing nice about driving with the boys is you could boot Sammy to the front and sprawl out in the back. Dean even keeps a little blanket in the trunk for you. Leather seats are three things: cold, hot or sticky. Can’t have baby makin you uncomfortable sweetheart. You smile at the memory as you stare at the back of Dean’s head. The rain gently thumps at the windows, Sammy’s fingers clacking against the keys of his laptop.

“You were a little tough on Donna back there.” Dean states, keeping his voice low to not disturb you.

“What?” Sam frowns, the clacking coming to an abrupt stop.

“Just sayin’.” Dean shrugs, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he told Donna to let Doug go; Sam, telling her to let the love of her life go. 

“Was I wrong? I mean, when has knowing us ever worked out for anyone?” His eyes flick to you as you roll to face the back of the seat.

“(Y/N)?” Dean shrugs.

“What?”

“It’s worked out for (Y/N), according to her.” Dean clarifies.

“Oh ya, I bet she always dreamed of falling in love with a guy who constantly tells her she can’t be a hunter because she could die. And who constantly makes life altering decisions for her.” Sam deadpans.

“We save people, Sam.” He points out. Save tons of people, every day, every year. That has to count for something.

“Yeah, we also get people killed, Dean. Kaia, for instance. She helped us and she died for it. And the list of (Y/N) getting hurt or almost dead isn’t exactly short.”

“Hey, look, I know you’re in some sort of a—” 

“No, no, no, don’t – don’t… You keep saying I’m in a dark place, but I’m not, Dean. Everything I’m saying is the truth. It’s our lives. And I tried to pretend it didn’t have to be. I tried to pretend (Y/N) would be safe, that we could have Mom back and Cas and – and help Jack. But we can’t. This ends one way for us, Dean. It ends bloody.”

The three of you sit in silence. Dean always told you he would go down fighting; it always seemed to be the hand he was dealt. He just never actually died, so you both had agreed that maybe that’s not the true end designed for him. But Sam giving up on the happily ever after? That was just as bad as you giving up…

“You’re the reason she holds on so tight.” He whispers, seeing Sam turn toward him out of the corner of his eye. “You told her to always keep fighting; to fight for the life she wants, to fight for me. I was prepared to let her go years ago. Prepared for my soul to ache for the rest of my life.” He accuses. “But you’re the one who said to not give her up. To fight for her. Why –”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.” Sam interrupts. You shift in your seat, moving your blanket to muffle the sound of your heart breaking.

_______

One would think spending their whole life fighting everything that lurks in the dark would make it uncomfortable. But as Sam lays in the pitch black of his room, he feels calm. He’s embraced the fact that he lives in the dark, like some creature waiting for whatever fight is next. No searching for something to hold on to, for hope about the future.

God was no better than any other supernatural being, Mom and Jack are as good as dead… After tossing and turning he gets up, easily making his way down the hall in the dark. He stops at your studio door and listens; he can hear the faint clicking of your keyboard accompanied by a faint static noise he can only assume is music. He gently pushes the door, you’re bopping your head along to whatever’s coming through your headphones as you mess with a project on your computer.

He lets his eyes wander around the room; it’s filled with fabric, blank canvases, half painted paintings, partially done costumes and a large wall of books. This room is very much you; warm, inviting and filled with things that make you happy. It was often a safe space for him, both when you were in it and when you weren’t. You both had many late night conversations about anything that came to mind, talked through a lot of the darkness he carried with him.

“Geezus Sammy!” You jump out of your chair, nearly knocking over your water bottle. “Scared the tarts out of me!” You move it out of arms reach and slide off your headphones.

“Right, sorry.” He frowns. You tilt your head to the side, walking over to him and gently taking his hands in yours.

“You ok?” you ask. He gives you a curt nod, eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“Whatever happened to that painting, the one with the two hands holding onto each other?”

“It’s here, haven’t got around to hanging it up.” You pull it out from a stack that’s leaned against the wall, putting it up on your easel and sliding the fabric sheet off to reveal it.

“Always keep fighting.” Sam mumbles, his fingers gently tracing the words. It’s written dozens of times in the background, your perfect sloppy writing making it feel like you’re telling him to do just that.

“Sammy!” You yell over your shoulder in the general direction of his room.

“Ya?” He yells back.

“Come here!”

He pads down the hall, standing in your doorway.

“Need you to hand model with me.” You wave him over. You take one hand, having  him wrap his fingers around your wrist while you do the same. “Now pull.”

He pulls, a little too hard, and you ram into his chest.

“Not that hard Sammy!” you giggle. 

“Ok, ok… not that hard. Got it.”

He huffs in amusement at the memory. It seemed silly at the time but it’s moving to see your hand holding him up, keeping him from slipping away.

“Why is one side written upside down?”

“Because love flows both ways.” You rotate the picture so now his hand is holding yours. You slot your hand into his, leaning your head on his arm as the two of you study it.

“What if holding on was the mistake?” He asks.

“It wasn’t.” You can feel him shift against you. “I didn’t walk into this life blind Sam.” You bite down on your tongue, praying the tears not to slip down your face. “I-”

He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you tight. He has always pulled you closer; pulled you into the hunting life, into his brother’s life, into his own life. Selfish. It was the only word that came to his mind. He always thought that karma would follow through. That every single monster he and Dean put in the ground would let them have just a sliver of something good. And he was hoping it would be you. But maybe Dean was right this whole time, you’ll only end up hurt or dead.

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Daddy’s Girl

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Synopsis: your life growing up as Dean’s daughter (ignores cannon)

You were born of Dean’s short-lived relationship with Lisa. When he was forced to leave his family behind to keep them safe, he was also forced to take you with him. He’d wanted to leave you, to keep you safe, but with Lisa and Ben’s memories wiped of him, you got wiped with him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said as Dean held you in his arms. “There’s no way to erase you without erasing her, too.”

Despite how much Dean wanted to keep you safe, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret how things turned out.

…

Sam pursed his lips, and Dean couldn’t hold back his laugh when he spotted his brother covered in broccoli.

You started giggling when you noticed your father’s smile, but Dean clamped his mouth shut when he saw you laughing.

“Hey now,” he scolded, trying desperately to look stern despite still being able to see the broccoli in Sam’s hair. “Don’t throw food.”

“Is yucky!” You whined, kicking your feet.

Dean gave you his signature ‘dad glare’ and you gave him the puppy eyes that he was convinced Sammy taught you just to drive him nuts.

Neither of you were willing to give in, far too stubborn for anyone’s good. Finally, Sam broke the awkward silence.

“How about we try a new veggie?”

…

“What are you watching?”

Dean tore his eyes away from the screen to see Sam standing in the doorway.

“Saw, why?”

Sam scoffed, “Do you think she’s old enough for that?” He gestured to five-year-old you, curled up in your dad’s arms.

“She’s out like a light, she has no clue what’s going on,” Dean assured him.

“So what, she’s your new stuffed animal?” Sam chuckled.

“It’s called parenting, Sammy. Now shut up, you’re gonna wake her up.”

…

“Daddy, look!”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, closing the lore book in front of him when you came bounding into the war room.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” He asked, his voice thick with exhaustion as he lifted you into his lap.

“I maked the Impala,” you grinned, showing off a pencil sketch of Baby colored in with a black crayon. “Uncle Sammy only helped a little.”

Dean could tell from the detail of the drawing that Sam helped more than a little, but he didn’t care.

“This is great!” He praised. “Baby would be so proud, looks almost as good as her.”

You giggled. “Can I hang it on the fridge?”

“I think it’d be a crime if we didn’t,” Dean insisted, standing up with you in his arms so he could carry you to the kitchen.

…

“Dad!”

Dean staggered back in surprise when ten-year-old you launched yourself into his arms the moment he stepped into the bunker.

“Hey kid,” he chuckled, but his smile dropped when he noticed your strangled breaths, and how tightly you were clinging to him. “You ok? We weren’t gone that lon-“

“Someone’s in the bunker,” you whispered, and Dean now also noticed that you were shaking.

“What?” He demanded, lowering you to the ground and grabbing his gun with one hand, keeping his other hand on your shoulder protectively.

“I-I heard footsteps,” you stammered, still trying to catch your breath. “So I ran, and-and I was looking for a place to hide when you opened the door.”

“You’re sure it was footsteps?”

“I know what I heard!” Your stammer left you when your fear turned to annoyance.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “I believe you. Now, I want you to go and hide in my room, ok? Stay there, and don’t open the door unless it’s me, understand?”

“B-but…” you glanced around nervously, unwilling to let go of your father.

“I need you to do this,” Dean said. “I need you safe, ok? You’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, but Dean’s jacket was still clenched between your fingers.

“C’mon now, go!” Dean gave your arm a gentle push, and as soon as the two of you were no longer touching you seemed spurned into action. You ran in the other direction, headed straight for your dad’s room.

Once the door was closed and locked behind you, you immediately went to sit on Dean’s bed, your arms wrapped around your knees as you tried hard to stop your trembling.

You assured yourself over and over again that your dad would take care of it; he’d get the intruder out, and it would all be ok. When you heard footsteps echoing through the hall, your heart lifted, sure that your dad was coming to get you.

But then the doorknob jiggled as someone tried to open it. It stopped, but still no knock came, no “hey, it’s me,” from Dean; nothing.

Until with a loud bang! the door flew free of its hinges.

You scrambled back with a cry of surprise, and your hand found something hard under Dean’s pillow. You snatched it up as the intruder—a tall man with blond hair and a dark suit—stalked towards you.

You lifted the object, surprised when you saw that it was Dean’s gun.

“St-stay back!” You warned. The man hesitated for only a second before continuing his advance towards you.

“You don’t have the guts,” he scoffed. He took one more step—he was only a couple of feet away—and reached out to grab you.

The gun kicked back in your hands as you fired, and you nearly dropped it. A look of morbid shock crossed the man’s face, but it only lasted for a brief second as he slumped to the ground at the side of Dean’s bed.

Your whole body was shaking. Your hands didn’t seem able to let go of the gun. You could feel blood on your face where it had splattered.

“Sweetheart?”

Your whole body flinched at the sound of your father’s voice. He was in the center of the room—you hadn’t even noticed him come in—and his hands were held out towards you.

“Sweetheart, give me the gun.”

Your hands went limp when Dean grabbed the gun. He tossed it onto his bed, his attention never leaving your face, which was turned towards the dead man on the floor.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Dean demanded. Your eyes slowly found your father’s, afraid of what you might find there. But there was no anger, or judgment, not even surprise. There was only comfort, maybe a little worry.

“Let’s go,” Dean said, lifting you into his arms. When he saw you staring at the dead man, he cradled the back of your head in his hand and pushed your face against his shoulder as he carried you out of the room.

“I killed him.”

Your voice came out muffled against Dean’s shirt, and Dean’s heart constricted at the quaver in your voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed, subconsciously rocking you in his arms like he used to do when you could barely crawl. “He was gonna hurt you, you defended yourself. You did nothing wrong.” Dean sighed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t want you to have to do that.”

“I killed somebody,” you said again, and Dean’s arms tightened around you. He knew he couldn’t talk you out of this; not yet, you were still in shock. So he’d do the only thing he could.

“It’s gonna be ok, baby,” he soothed. “I promise.”

…

“Where is that girl?”

“You lookin for Y/N?” Sam asked as Dean wandered around the bunker.

“Unless we’ve got another girl living here I don’t know about,” Dean shot back.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

“She’s in the library doing homework.”

“Again?” Dean shook his head. “I think I’ve let her spend too much time with you, she’s becoming quite the nerd.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sam chuckled. “I told her to take a break like an hour ago. That nerdy behavior is all her.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean closed the book in front of Sam. “You both need a break.”

“Ok,” Sam shrugged. “Good luck, she’s just as stubborn as you.”

“We’ll see.”

…

“Hey!” You yelped in surprise when your dad lifted you up and out of your chair, Sam watching from the doorway with a grin on his face.

“No more books, you two have spent too much time being nerds this week.”

“But I have a paper to write!”

“You mean that paper you told me is due in three weeks?”

“Well…”

“Uh huh,” Dean said. “You’ve got time, so take a break.”

“On one condition; we watch Lord of the Rings.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam cut in.

“Oh come on,” Dean groaned. “Could you two be bigger nerds?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t want to watch it,” you giggled, trying to squirm out of Dean’s hold since he still hadn’t put you down.

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” Dean huffed, setting you down on your bed and digging his fingers into your stomach. You squealed in surprise as your dad tickled you. “And I certainly didn’t ask for your sass!”

“Who-who do you thin-think taught it to me!” You giggled, squirming as Dean didn’t let up.

“Hey now!” Dean scoffed. “Now you’re just asking for it.”

Dean continued to scratch and poke at your sides, your stomach, and your neck until your face was bright red and your laughter was silent.

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean said as he let up, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way towards the Dean cave, Sam following behind.

“Yo-hou’re mean,” you giggled.

Dean just chuckled.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

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[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Red Sky At Morning

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Dean was driving the Impala; Sam was in the passenger's seat and I in the backseat, the usual. There was a silence in the car and it felt very tense. The tension in the air felt so thick, you could cut it with a sword, but, eventually, Dean speaks up. "So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. You guys got something to tell me?" He asked us and Sam and I glance at each other then at him.

"It's not your birthday." Sam said, playing dumb. "No." Dean said and I give a confused look at him. "Happy...Purim?" I said, shrugging, and Dean looks up at the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised. "Dude, we don't know. We have no idea what you're talking –" Sam started to say but Dean talks over.

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened? I know it wasn't me. So unless one of you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...One of you went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to." Dean said, anger rising in his voice. "Yeah, well..." Sam mutters and I shrug.

"Both of you went after her?!" Dean said as he looks between us and I quickly look away from his glare through the mirror.

"You two could have gotten yourselves killed!" Dean yells. "We didn't." Sam growls. "And you shot her." Dean said as he looks at Sam. "She was a smartass." said Sam and Dean growls then looks up at the mirror. "And you didn't stop him." He said. "It happened so fast, Dean." I said and Dean scoffs.

"So, what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?" He asked us. "Don't you think we might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?" I said, annoyed, and Dean rolls his eyes. "No. Someone else holds the contract." 

"Who?" Dean asked. "She wouldn't say." Sam said. "Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute..." Dean said and I let out sigh. "That's not funny." Sam said. "No, it's not! It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it." Dean yells.

"I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, (y/n) and I are gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?" Sam said to him, firmly. "Agreed." I said and Dean shakes his head as we keep on driving.

The next day, Sam, Dean and I were impersonating officers of the law to interview a witness. She was holding a framed photograph of the victim, who mysteriously drowned in her shower. The witness' name is Gertude Case, and she is elegant and well-groomed and approximately 70 years old. 

"But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other Detectives." She said to us. "Right, yes. But, see, we're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department – different departments." Dean tells her.

"So, Mrs. Case..." Sam started to say but Gert smiles up at him. "Please. Ms. Case." She said as she eyes Sam. "Okay. Um, Ms. Case, um...you were the one who found your niece, correct?" He asked her. "I came home, she was in the shower." She explained.

"Drowned?" I asked. "So the coroner says. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?" She asked. "How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death? I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary?" Sam asked then Gert gives us a look.

"Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?" She asked and the three of us look at each other before Dean nods. "Yep. Absolutely. That's Alex and us, we're like this." Dean said, laughing.

"Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But I'm sorry. I thought the case was solved." Gert said, confused. "Well, no. No, not yet." Sam said and Gert looks him over while Dean and I exchange a look. "I see." She said as she gives Sam a flirtatious look.

"So, anyways, we were talking about your niece." Sam said, uncomfortable, and I bit my lips, trying not to smile. "Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat." She said and we give her a confused look.

"A boat?" I said, confused. "Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship." Gert said and the boys and I give each other another look. "Uh, could be." Sam said. 

"You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you." Gert said and she traces a finger slowly along Sam's hand; Sam looks uncomfortable, while Dean and I try not to laugh. "Anything at all." She said.

Dean, Sam and I walk along the docks, where the water is crowded with pristine, moderately sized boats. "What a crazy old broad." Dean said. "Why? Because she believes in ghosts?" Sam asked and I chuckled. "Look at you. Sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound." I joked.

"Bite me." Sam grumbles and Dean chuckles. "Not if she bites you first." I remarked and Sam scoffs. "That's my girl." Dean said to me and I wink at him while he continues to chuckle.

"So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?" Dean asked once he stopped laughing. "Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job." Sam said. "And what looked like a ghost ship, right?" I said. "It's not the first one sighted around here, either." Sam said.

"Really?" Dean and I asked. "Yeah. Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings." Sam explains as we keep on walking along the dock.

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started." I said and Sam nods. "What's the lore?" Dean asked him. "Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman – almost all of them are death omens." Sam said.

"So, you see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?" Dean asked. "Basically." Sam said. "What's the next step?" I asked him. "We gotta I.D. the boat." Sam said. "That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?" Dean asked. "I checked that too, actually. Over 150." Sam said.

"Wow." Dean mutters, shocked.

"Yeah." Sam said.

"Crap." I grumbled as we approach an empty parking space; Dean looks around, confused. "This is where we parked the car, right?" He asked as he points at the empty parking spot.  "I thought so." Sam said as I nod. 

"Where's my car?" Dean asked, getting agitated. "Did you feed the meter?" I asked him. "Yes, I fed the meter." Dean yells. "Guys, where's my car? Somebody stole my car!" Dean growls, angrily. "Calm down." I said to him, calmly.

"I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca–" Dean shouts then he begins hyperventilating. "Whoa. Dean. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy." Sam and I said to him as we go and I put an arm around him.

"The '67 Impala?" A female British voice asked and we look over and see it is Bela as she saunteres her way to us. "Was that yours?" She asked, a smirk on her face. "Bela." I growled at her. "I'm sorry. I had that car towed." She said.

"You what?!" Dean yells. "Well, it was in a tow-away zone." She said. "No, it wasn't!" I said to her. "It was when I finished with it." She said.

"What the hell are you even doing here?" Dean asked her, angrily. "A little yachting." She said, flippantly. "You're Alex. You're working with that old lady." Sam said and Bela's smile grew bigger. "Gert's a dear old friend." She said.

"Yeah, right. What's your angle?" I asked her.

"There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats." Bela said.

"And let me guess, it's all a con." Dean sneered. "The comfort I provide them is very real." She said.

"How do you sleep at night?" Sam asked her. "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money. Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from him or from her, but you?" Bela said, curiously. "You shot me!" Sam yelled at her. "I barely grazed you." She said and Sam glares at her while Dean shrugs a bit.

"Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?" Bela said to Dean. "You do know what's going on around here. This ghost-ship thing, it is real." I said to her. "I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way." Bela said, annoyed.

"It isn't." Dean said.

"She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look...just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you...before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao." She said and she leaves.

"Can I shoot her?" I asked the boys as my fist clench and I glare after her. "Not in public." Sam mutters to me. "Damn it." I growled.

The next day, after hearing about another drowning, the boys and I approach the victim's house, all three of us wearing suits. There we see a man talking to Bela, who was pretending to be a reporter. As we got closer, we heard the man mention that his brother, the victim, had saw a ship before he died.

We walk up to Bela and we flash our badges. "Ma'am, I think this man's been through quite enough. You should go." Dean said. "But I just have a few more questions." Bela said and I shake my head. "No, you don't." I said and she glares at us then turns to the man. "Thank you for your time." She said and she walks off.

"Sorry you had to deal with that. They're like roaches." Dean said to the man. "So, we heard you say your brother saw a ship." Sam said and the guy nods. "Yeah, that's right." The man, Mr Warren, said.

"Did he tell you what it looked like?" Dean asked him. "It was, uh...like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging. Angel figurehead on the bow." He said. "That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw." I noted.

"My brother and I were night diving. I saw the ship, too." Mr Warren said and I turn my head and noticed Bela is talking to the real uniforms and pointing in our direction. I was really beginning to hate this bitch. I turn to the boys and nudge them and nod towards Bela. "All right. Well, we'll be in touch." Dean said to Mr Warren. "Thank you." Sam and I said and we leave.

Later, we were loading shotguns at the trunk of the Impala, when we heard footsteps behind us. "I see you got your car back." Bela said. "You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?" Dean asked her, angrily. "Now, now. Mind your blood pressure." She said to him and he glares at her.

"Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat." Bela said as I close the trunk and walk around the car.

"That guy back there, saw the ship." Sam said to her. "Yeah? And?" Bela asked, not understanding. "Do we have to spell it out for you? He's going to die, so we have to save him." I said, annoyed. "How sweet." She said, smiling.

"You think this is funny?" Dean asked her. "He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it." She said. "Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so we're gonna try." Dean sneered at her.

"Well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun." She said and I turn and walk up to her. "Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh? What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?" I asked her, snidely. "I don't know. Your daddy give you enough?" She spat back at me and I clench my jaw in anger, I could feel my blood boiling. 

"Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're not better than I am." She said. "We help people." Dean said. "Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me – which is healthier?" She asked.

"Bela, why don't you just leave? We've got work to do." Sam said, annoyed and exasperated. "Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far." She said and she leaves. "You sure I can't shoot her? I have a clear shot." I said to the boys as we watch her leave. "As much as we would love for that to happen, can't let you." Sam said and I sighed and we get into the car.

That night, we were staking out Mr Warren's house and Sam was doing research. "Anything good?" Dean asked Sam. "No, not really. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago." Sam said.

"How much?" I asked him. "$112 million." Sam replied and Dean whistled. "Damn." I muttered, astonished. "Nice life." Dean said. "Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?" Sam asked.

"Maybe nothing." Dean said, shrugging. "No. There's always something." Sam said.

"Hey, you!" A voice shouted and we look up and see Mr Warren walking out of his house and onto his walkway. "I think we've been made." Dean said and we get out of the car and approach him. "What are you guys doing?! You watching me?" Mr Warren asked us. "Sir, calm down. Please." I said to him.

"You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not – not in that crappy car." He shouts at us. "Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty." Dean said to him. "We are cops, okay? We're undercover. We're here because we think you're in danger." Sam said.

"From who?!" Mr Warren asked us. "If you just settle down, we'll talk about it." I said to him. "Look, you guys just stay away from me!" He shouts and he turns and walks away. But as we start to get closer to his gate he runs to his car.

"Wait." Sam shouts.

"Stop!" I said as he gets into his car.

"Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!" Dean shouts as Mr Warren starts to drive off. But before he makes it to the gate, the car shudders and dies. "That can't be good." Dean said. "No. Get the salt gun." Sam said and Dean runs back to the Impala as Sam and I dash to help. 

"Peter!" Sam shouts as we make it to the car but he doesn't  respond. We make it to the driver's side window and see the spirit in the passenger seat, glaring straight at us. Dean arrives on the other side and aims the salt gun at the spirit.

"Guys!" Dean shouts and we duck as Dean fires. The spirit disappears, and Sam yanks the door open. He pulls Peter back and checks for a pulse, but after a few seconds his shoulders slump and he shakes his head at Dean. Dean kicks the door in frustration and I slammed my fist on top of the roof in annoyance.

Later, we were driving along in the Impala with the radio going, talking about the incoming weather. But then Dean turns the radio off. "Do you wanna say it or should I?" Dean asked us. "What?" Sam and I said. "You can't save everybody, guys." Dean said.

"Yeah, right, so – so what, you feel better now or what?" I asked Dean. "No, not really." He replied. "Me neither." I said. "Same here." Sam and Dean said. "You gotta understa–" Dean started to say until but Sam talks over. "It's just lately, I feel like I can't save anybody." Sam said and I frown over at him.

Outside the house we were staying in, Sam and I were reading and Dean was on his phone when there was a knock at the door. I set the book down and check the door and see that it is Bela; I share a long look with the boys before I open the door. "Dear God, are you actually squatting?" She asked once she walks in, no one replies.

"So how'd things go last night with Peter?" She asked and we don't respond. "That well, huh?" She said. "If you say I told you so, I swear to God I'll start swinging." Dean growls at her. "Look, I think the four of us should have a heart to heart." She said. "That's assuming that you have a heart." I spat at her.

"(Y/n), please...I'm sorry about what I said before, ok? I come bearing gifts." She said. "Such as?" Sam asked. "I've ID'd the ship." She said as she holds up the file in her hand. Then she pulls out a picture from the file and hands it to Sam. "It's the Espirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel, quite a colourful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard a ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37." She explains.

"Which would explain the 37 year cycle." Sam said. "Aren't you a sharp tack?" She said and Sam glares at her. "I have a photo of his somewhere...here." she said and she pulls out another picture with a few men standing on the deck of the ship.

"Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" Dean asked us as he points at the man who was standing prominently. "You saw him?" Bela asked him. "Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand." I said.

"His right hand?" Bela asked. "How'd you know?" Sam asked. "The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory." Bela explains. "A hand of glory – I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week." Dean said then he laughs. "Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious cult object and is very powerful." Sam said.

"So they say." Bela said. "And officially counts as remains." I said. "But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims." Sam said. "I'll tell you why, who cares. Find the hand, burn it and stop the bloody thing." Bela said.

"I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?" Dean asked her. "Because I know exactly where the hand is." She said. "Where?" I asked her. "At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a carp bit of maritime history. But I need help." She replied. "What kind of help?" Sam asked and she smirks.

Later on, I was waiting in the living room of the house; no one else is around as Sam, Bela and Gert were heading at the museum. I was looking myself over at the long mirror, staring at the black dress that was hugging my curves. 

"What is taking so long? Sam and Bela are already halfway there...with Sam's date." I shouted at Dean, who was upstairs. "So not okay with this!" I hear Dean growl from upstairs. "Dean, c'mon. It can't be as bad as me wearing this...thing." I said then I hear footsteps. I look over at the staircase and my breath hitches in my chest.

Dean walks down the stairs in a tuxedo, even wearing a bowtie, and I felt my heart race as I run my eyes over him. Once off the steps, he stands a few feet in front of me then his eyes widen once he sees me. Seemed like both of us were checking each other out.

"Wow." He mutters as he looks me over. "Not so bad yourself." I said as I look him over. "You look amazing, I look ridiculous." Dean grumbles. "Not the word I'd use." I said as I roam my eyes over him. "You know, I have half a mind to say screw the museum and take you back up to the bedroom." I said, giving him a smile.

"Hey, don't objectify me." Dean said, trying to sound disgusted but I know he was kidding. "Oh yeah, like you don't objectify me." I said and I could see a small smirk on his lips. Then I go and lean up and kiss him which started to turn passionate.

Then we break apart and leaned our forehead against each other, trying to catch our breathes. "C'mon, horndog. The faster we get this done, the faster we can come back and continue this." I said and Dean let's out a groan. "Not soon enough." He mutters and I chuckle before I kiss him once more. "Let's go." I said and I take his hand in mine and we head out.

Later, we pulled up into the museum parking lot in the Impala then made our way inside. "There you are! What took you two so long?" Bela asked us as we meet up with her at the bar. "Oh, someone was just being dramatic is all." I said as I glance over at Dean, who rolls his eyes.

She scoffs at this just as Sam comes up to us, obviously annoyed. "Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?" He asked us. "As long as it takes." Bela said. "Look, there's security all over this place, alright. This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so..." Dean said to him, shrugging.

"We can crash anything, Dean." Sam said. "Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining." Dean said, smiling. "You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?" Sam said. "Ohhh, he's playing hard to get, that's cute." I teased and Sam glares at me. "Come on." I said to Dean and Bela as I take Dean's arm and and we grab a glass of champagne. 

"We want all the details in the morning!" Dean said to Sam as we walk away.

As we walked around, we noticed some men in uniforms standing around in all parts of the building. "Private security?" Bela asked us. "I don't think so, look at the way they're standing, they're pros. Probably state troopers in mood lighting." Dean said. "Posted at every door, too." I pointed out. "Yeah, I don't think we're just going to be able to waltz upstairs." Dean said.

"What do you suggest?" Bela asked us. "I'm thinking." Dean said and he goes silent as he thinks. "Don't strain yourself." Bela said and Dean turns to her. "Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man." She said as she smirks at him.

"You got any bright ideas, we're all ears." I said to her, annoyed. "Okay." Bela said then she groans and falls to the floor. Dean and I kneel down next to her.

"Hey, hey, are you alright?" Dean asked her then I turn to the waiter, who comes up carrying a tray of food. "Waiter, my sister has a severe shellfish allergy. There's no crab in that?" I asked him. "No, ma'am." He replied and Dean takes one of the little cakes. "They're excellent, by the way." Dean compliments and the waiter nods and walks away as a guard comes up to us.

"What seems to be the trouble?" He asked us. "Ahhh, champagne, my sister, she's a lightweight when it comes to the sauce. Is there somewhere my husband and I can lay her down till she gets her sea legs back?" I asked the guard, sweetly, and he looks between us then rolls his eyes slightly.

"Follow me." He said. "Right. Thank you." I said and Dean and I go to pick her up. "Come on, you lush." Dean groans as we lift Bela up, her left arm around my shoulder and her right arm around Dean's shoulder.

Later, the guard leads us to a library where there was a lounge couch in the middle of the room and we go and set Bela on it. "You think she's a pain in the ass now, try living with her." I said, chuckling, to the guard. "Thank you very much." Dean said and the guard walks out and Dean shuts the door.

We turn and see Bela starting to sit up. "Maybe next time give us a little heads up with your plan?" Dean said to her, annoyed. "I didn't want you thinking, you're not very good at that." She said, making Dean sigh. "Oh, look at you searching for a witty rejoinder." She said to him.

"Screw you." I spat at her. "Very Oscar Wilde." She sneered and I clenched my fist. Dean and I exchange a look before he shakes his head slightly then heads towards the door. "Room 235, it's in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I'm sure that won't be a problem." Bela said as Dean turns to her. "I'm sure that won't be a problem." Dean mimics her and he walks out and shuts the door.

I sighed and walked around the room as I look over the bookshelves. "You know for a man like Dean, who is not as bright, he is quite the catch. Especially him in that suit." Bela said and I try to ignore her. "Maybe when we finish here, he and I can go and have angry sex." She said and that made me turn and glare at her.

"Do you ever shut up?" I asked her, angrily. "Just trying to make some conversation. You know between us girls." She says. "Yeah, well don't." I spat at her as I look back at the shelf. 

"Am I striking a nerve here?" She asked and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Oh, honey, you strike my nerve everytime I see and hear you." I sneered as I look over my shoulder at her and she smirks a bit at this. I scoff then looked away from her as I look through these books.

Eventually, Dean comes back in. "Did you get it?" I asked him. "Yeah." He said. "May I?" Bela asked as she walks up to him. "No." Dean said, firmly. "It might be more inconspicuous in my purse." She said and I give her an unimpressed look.

"Nice try." I said.

"Just trying to be helpful." She said.

"Well, sweetheart, we don't need your kind of help." Dean said and we head out of the room.

"Well, having a nice time?" Bela asked Gert as we come up to her and Sam dancing. "He's delightful..." Gert said with a smile and she walks over to Bela. "...he wants me!" She whispers and I bite back a smile and hold in a laugh. "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower. See you at the cemetery." Bela said and her and Gert leave. Then Dean turns to Sam and said. "You stink like sex." 

"You got it right? Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing." Sam said to us as we head back to the Impala. "I got it...Mrs. Who?" Dean said, confused. "Never mind, just let me see it." Sam said and Dean starts to reach in his jacket pocket but then started to pat himself down in a panic. "What?" Sam and I asked as Dean takes a ship in a bottle out of his jacket pocket.

"I'm gonna kill her." He growls.

"Not if I get to her first." I said.

"You know what, you're right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture is the way to go." Dean growls after we made it back to our house and changed into normal clothes. "Dean, look, you gotta relax." Sam said to him, calmly. "Relax, oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax." Dean grunts. "I can't believe she got another one over on us."

"You." Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I...I mean she got one over on you, not us." Sam corrected. "Thank you, Sam. Very helpful." Dean said, loudly, then there was an anxious knocking at the door.

"Hello, could you open up?" Bela's voice shouts and Dean opens the door. "Just let me explain..." she said, almost panicked, then Dean let's her in. "I sold it, I've had a buyer lined up since I knew it existed." She said.

"So the whole reason for us going to the Charity Ball was...?" I said, annoyed. "I needed a cover. You were convenient." She replied and I rolled my eyes.

"Look, you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back." Sam said to her. "It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time." She said. "In time for what?" Dean asked and she looks at us, and I could see fear in her eyes.

"What's going on with you, Bela? You look like you've seen a ghost." I said. "I saw the ship." She replied. "You what?" I said, shocked, and she gives us a look of worry. "Wow, you know, I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower –" Dean sneered at her.

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

"We figured out the spirit's motive." Sam said and he hands her the photo of the spirit and another man. "This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy." Sam said.

"So?" Bela said, shrugging. "So they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family's blood." Sam said and Bela's eyes widen a bit. 

"See first there was Shelia who killed her cousin in a car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance, and now you." I explained. "My God." She whispers.

"So who was it, Bela? Hmmm? Who'd you kill? Was it daddy? Little sis, maybe?" Dean asked her. "It's none of your business." She growls at him. "No, you're right. Well, have a nice life – you know, whatever's left of it." Dean said to her then he looks over at us. "Guys, let's go." He said and we start to gather our things.

"You can't just leave me here." She said, panicked. "Watch us." I said to her. "Please. I need your help." She pleads to us. "Our help? Now how could three serial killers possibly help you?" I spat at her. "Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence." She said. 

"That's not why you're gonna die. What did you do, Bela?" Sam asked her. "You wouldn't understand, no one did. Never mind, I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself." She said. "You do realise you just sold the one thing that could save your life." Dean said to her. "I'm aware." She said. "But, maybe not the only thing." Sam said.

We make it to the graveyard where Sam is setting up a kind of sacrificial circle. "Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked us. "Almost definitely not." I said when an angry storm starts. "Sammy, you better start reading." Dean said and Sam nods as he opens the book and reads it outloud.

As he reads the winds starts to pick up and starts to rain. "Stay close!" Dean shouts. "Behind you!" Bela shouts and Dean and I turn around to see the ghost. Dean and I go to fire at him but the ghost throws both of us through the air before we could pull the trigger.

I shake my head then see Bela begins to cough up water. "Sammy, read faster!" I shouted and Sam reads faster while Bela begins to weep.

Suddenly, the storm calms down and the sailor ghost turns around and sees his brother. "You...hanged me." The sailor growls. "I'm sorry." His brother said, apologetically. "Your own brother." The sailor said, angrily. "I'm so sorry." The brother said then the sailor screams and charges at his brother. They clashed together, looking like a splash of water hitting each other in mid-air, and disappeared.

The next day, we were packing up, getting ready to leave our squatted residency, when the door opens and Bela walks in. "You three should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in." She said. "Anyone just did. Have you come to say goodbye or thank you?" Sam said. "I've come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother – very clever, Sam. So here." Bela said and she hands the three of us a stack of cash.

"It's ten thousand – that should cover it. I don't like being in anyone's debt." She said. "So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You are so damaged." Dean said. "Takes one to know one. Goodbye." Bela said and she turns and walks out of the building.

"She's got style, you gotta give her that." Sam said. "I suppose." I grumbled as Dean looks over the stack of cash. "You know, guys, we don't know where this money's been." Sam said and Dean smirks. "No, but I know where it's going..." Dean said then he laughs.

Later on in the Impala, Sam is looking at a map from the backseat while Dean is driving and I was in the passenger seat. "Seriously, Atlantic City?" I said to Dean. "Hell yeah, play some roulette. Always bet on black." Dean said, smiling, and I chuckle and shake my head as Sam does the same.

"Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um, I want you two to know I understand why you guys did it. I understand why you two went after the crossroads demon." Dean said and Sam sighs. "And if the situation was reversed I guess I'd done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what both of you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you guys are gonna be okay." Dean said and I look over at him.

"You think so." Sam said. "Yeah, you two'll keep hunting, y'know, both of you live your lives. You guys are stronger than me, you are." Dean said and Sam and I clear our throat at the same time. "You are...you guys'll get over it. But I want you two to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am." He said and I give him a look of disbelief.

"You know what, Dean, go screw yourself." Sam said and I nod. "What?" Dean asked, confused. "Sam and I don't want an apology from you – and by the way, we're adults now, Sam and I can take care of ourselves." I said, firmly. 

"Oh, well, excuse me." Dean grumbles.

"So will you please quit worrying about us? I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. We don't want you to worry about us, Dean, (y/n) and I want you to worry about you. We want you to give a crap that you're dying!" Sam yells and Dean says nothing.

"So, what, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?" I asked him, annoyed, as he keeps his eyes on the road. "I think maybe I'll play craps." He said and Sam sighs while I scoff, fold my arms across my chest and look out the window.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Man (Dean Winchester)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Wife!Reader

Summary: Dean never wanted kids. Until he married you, and now he's changed his mind.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children, you don't want kids) p in v, brief fingering, creampie, breeding kink, bit of dirty talk, established relationship, cursing.

WC: 3.4k I'm sorry

A/N: Idk what has gotten into me lately, but it's just filth all up in this head. Just one thought, dean and kids. That's it. He wouldve been a great dad if the writers didnt hate him, fight me. If this flops I'll cry myself to sleep. Kay enjoy the not soldier boy filth

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Dean never wanted kids. Not really. How could he? He could never be selfish enough to bring a child into his life. His way of life wasn't the life any child deserved. He knew he didn't. But he didn't know if he could ever give up hunting, it was all he had ever known. All he was raised to do. And deep down, that's exactly what he didn't want, he didn't want to be the father he had, and in so many ways he and John were alike. So he promised himself he would never bring a child into this world, into his life. 

And then he met you. 

The sweetest girl he had ever met. You were the prettiest, too. The second he laid eyes on you when you served him at a local dinner in Lebanon, he knew you were something else. And the minute you flashed him a smile, he was done for. He wanted you. And good thing you wanted him too. 

Dean never thought he would want to marry anyone, settling down, going to bed and waking up next to the same person for the rest of his life, he never thought he would have any of those things. But then, he fell in love with you. And much to his relief, you loved him too, exactly the way he was, hunting and all. Though that was a conversation that took weeks of processing before you were fully on board, but you moved past it. You would even, at times help them, or more like Sam, research. Hunting was a big part of who Dean was, it was his life, and you wanted to be part of it. How he was ever lucky enough to deserve someone like you he didn't know. Sometimes he wondered if he had died and had gone to heaven, you being a vision of the bliss and happiness he so desperately wanted. But no, he was alive and you were real. 

So he married you. 

Kids were never in the equation though. It was brought up here and there, the possibility, the fantasy, the what if, but you both figured it wasn't right. Dean thought it would be for the best, he would just ruin their life like his father ruined his and Sam's. 

Until your sister gave birth to a baby girl. 

Dean wasn't in the picture when your nephews had been born, they were in elementary school now. But when your sister got pregnant again, right around the time you and Dean got married, you were thrilled. You loved your nephews, and you were going to love having a niece now. You had shared your excitement with him, but he didn't see the hype. What was so exciting about a crying red-faced shit dispenser? But alas, he at least tried to share your excitement. 

Until he actually saw you with the newborn in your arms. 

Dean had driven you a few states over to your sister's, so you could help out with the boys while she got settled back home that weekend. He wasn't around much, he felt out of place and like he was intruding, he had only met your family a handful of times after all. But on the last night you stayed at your sister's, he found you in the nursery, the red-faced baby peacefully cradled in your arms. He was speechless. He had never seen you with a baby before. The way you held her with care and gentleness, the way you said loving words to her, the way you smiled at her. It was like his heart had stopped and he was frozen in place. 

You heard the floorboards creak behind you and you turned around. You saw, Dean, standing by the door, face pale as a ghost. You raised a concerned eyebrow at him. 

"You okay Dean? What are you doing just standing there?" You asked him softly, as not to disturb the almost sleeping newborn in your arms. Dean blinked twice, swallowed and nodded. 

"Yeah I'm.. I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a nervous smile and half pointed at you, "I was just watching you. Not— Not watching like that, just y'know—"

"Oh jesus. Just come here, would you?" You giggled at his nervous rambling and nudged him in your direction. He looked at you with apprehension, but nodded regardless. He walked towards you and stood behind you. He was at least a head taller than you, so he could easily stand behind you and look over your shoulder. And his heart definitely stopped then.

"She's the cutest little thing isn't she?" You said to him, smiling at her as you rocked her in your arms. 

Dean let out a long breath as his eyes landed on the tiny being in your arms, "Yeah she uh, she's somethin'." He met her eyes and he only smiled awkwardly. She giggled and lifted her tiny arms. 

You laughed softly when she did and looked over your shoulder at him with a smile, "Baby, I think she likes you." You said to him when she kept her arms lifted and even fisted her tiny hands in his direction. "I think she wants you to hold her." 

"Wha-what?" 

You turned around to face him and his eyes were wide and his eyebrows were knitted into a nervous and confused expression. He was cute, sometimes he melted your heart without even trying. 

"Do you know how to hold a baby?" 

"Yeah but—" 

"Okay then hold her. I'm right here, you'll be fine, she won't like, gauge your eyes out or anything." You reassured him, teasing him a bit. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at your comment. 

"Hilarious." He rolled his eyes. He wanted to say no, but there was something about you, holding the little girl that made his stomach twist and turn. He couldn't even describe the feeling, but he knew he liked it. "Fine." 

Dean tensed up the second he had the newborn in his arms. He didn't know if he was holding her too tight, if her head was supported enough, if he was holding her steady enough. He looked at you with panic for a second, but when the little girl reached out her tiny arms and her tiny fingers touched his jaw, he felt like his heart stopped. He looked down at her, his eyes finding her big ones and his face softened. And he smiled, he actually smiled. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean couldn't take his mind off it. You with a tiny being in your arms. He thought about what it would be like to see your belly grow with his child, to see you hold a baby with his eyes and your nose. He thought about doing all the things his father never did with him. He thought about being a better father. 

The entire ride back home, Dean was absent, he said very little and you knew something was on his mind. You knew he could get lost in his own head and it'd be damn near impossible to get him to talk about it. You hoped he would eventually. Though you had the feeling neither of you were in much mood to talk. It was late, Dean was probably tired from hours of driving and you were exhausted from days of babysitting, though you loved spending time with your nephews and niece, you were exhausted. So whatever was on Dean's mind, you could wait until morning to try and beat it out of him. 

You were already in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness when Dean walked in the room. He had been gone a little while, probably talking to Sam about how much he hated being at your sister's. He turned the light on when he walked in, but he immediately cursed to himself when he saw you on your side of the bed, deep under the covers. You lifted your head, looking around the room a bit confused until you found him. 

"Sorry sweetheart, didn't know you were in bed already." He flashed you an apologetic smile as he undressed himself, only leaving his boxers and plain black t-shirt on before he turned the light back off and joined you in bed. 

"It's okay," You mumbled, happily sighing when he wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled your back to his chest. "You know I have a hard time sleeping without you anyway." 

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. He laid there, his nose brushing against your neck, happily taking in your scent as his fingers unconsciously rubbed circles over your flat stomach. He didn't know what the fuck was going through his head. But he just couldn't get rid of that image of you with your niece in your arms, how peaceful and happy you looked. Maybe you did want it, a family, and he was being selfish by not allowing you to have that because of his insecurities and past trauma. It terrified him, the idea of messing up like his father did, the idea of being just like his father. 

But maybe, maybe he was a better man than John Winchester. Maybe with such a sweet and gentle wife by his side, he had grown softer. He could be better. 

"Hey baby," He mumbled against your neck. You half opened your eyes, not quite asleep yet and you hummed at him, letting him know you were listening. "Are you still on the pill?" 

You opened your eyes fully at his question. Confused, you rolled over on your back and looked at him, "Uh yeah, why?" 

"Have you thought about, you know, not taking it anymore?" He asked, clearing his throat a bit as his fingers stilled their patterns on your stomach. You looked at him even more confused. 

"Unless you want to try abstinence, or you're missing wearing a condom, no, I haven't thought about it." You answered with furrowed brows as you looked at him in the darkness, trying to read his face. "Dean, why are you asking me this?" 

"Do you want kids?" He blurted out, not being able to control his rambling thoughts. He could've been more subtle. He sighed and continued, "I mean, would you ever want to have kids.. With me?" 

"I uh.. I mean, yeah at some point I thought about us having kids but," You paused, running your fingers up his arm reassuringly, sensing he was on edge and nervous. "I thought you didn't want kids." 

"I didn't. Not before," He sighed, his hand sneaking under your shirt to lay on your flat stomach, his wedding band feeling cold on your skin. "I honestly thought I'd be a shitty dad. I'm all kinds of fucked up. My life is a mess and I thought I'd be cruel to bring a kid into this life, raise 'em the way I was raised." 

"Dean, you're not fucked up, your life isn't exactly normal but, that doesn't mean your life is a mess. You're an amazing husband, I'm happy to be living the life I'm living with you. And you already are a good dad," You told him, your hand coming to run through his short hair. He frowned at you, like he didn't know what you meant, so you continued. "Who do you think raised Sam? Who do you think raised him to be the good man that he is? You did, you took care of him when you were just a kid, you taught him everything he knows, and he turned out well didn't he? You're a good man Dean, wouldn't that make you a good dad?"  

"God I love you." He sighed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he leaned down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

His hand lingered on your stomach, blunt nails scratching the skin even so slightly as his mouth covered yours. His lips were soft at first, but when he shifted so that he was hovering above you, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking as much as he could until you were pulling back for air. In the process, his hand had lingered further down your stomach, until his hand was slipping into your sleeping shorts. You gasped softly, feeling his middle finger brush over your clit.

"You know it's probably not gonna work if we try tonight, right?" You asked, your voice breaking when you felt one of his fingers rub small circles on your clit.

"No, I know. But there's nothing wrong with a bit of practice." His pink lips twisted into a small smirk as he dug his teeth into his bottom lip before he dived into your neck. 

His lips ravished your pressure point, sucking and slightly digging his teeth until he felt a pool of wetness coat his fingers. His lips curved upwards and he moved downwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses until he found the hem of your shorts. He pulled back, pulling his hand with him. You squirmed slightly under him, face warm when his green eyes found yours just as he pulled your shorts down your legs. He shot you a wink before his face was between your legs. You gasped softly when you felt his warm breath fan against your core, but he pressed his lips to your inner thigh instead and squeezed the other between his fingers. 

“Dean,” You exhaled heavily, trying to fight the urge to just push his head where you wanted him. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes and his lips were curved into an equally playful smirk. 

“Yeah I know baby.” He started to move up, hearing the urgency in your voice. He pressed his lips to your hip bone and trailed up. Though his lips lingered particularly long when he found your stomach, the idea of your belly growing with his child making his cock strain against his boxers. 

Your fingers found his short hair and you pulled him up, crashing your lips against his with fervor. He settled between your parted thighs, you could already feel him against you, he wanted this as much as you did, hell maybe more. He pulled his shirt over his head before he kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and he tugged his boxers down his hips, his cock springing against his stomach. He held himself up on his forearm as he guided himself to your entrance. He groaned how wet you were, your slick walls taking him with ease. 

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath as he looked between you, watching himself disappeaar into your walls. 

Dean didn’t waste much time. His hips found a pace, and he found it quick. It was hard and it was deep. He made sure you felt every thrust he gave you, every time he drew his hips back only to slam back in. But he wasn’t just fucking you, no. He was making love to you. He had a reason to. And fuck did he have a reason. He was fucking with you with purpose. And now that you were feeling it too, you were just as insatiable as he was. At some point, you weren't even quite sure when, Dean slipped your sleeping shirt off, which really was just one of his old t-shirts. For some reason, that habit of yours only got him off. The idea of you, his pretty wife, in his clothes. Fuck he often wondered when he ever got so lucky or if he even deserved it. 

He pulled back a little, jaw slightly hanging open as he ran a hand over your breast, kneading one between his fingers. And then he was leaning down. His mouth found one of your breasts, the nipple already hard as a rock, and he suckled, giving the bud attention until it was red and puffy. And then he switched to the other. They would get bigger and plump with substance for his child, he thought. And maybe you realized that too, because as your body arched under his, your hand came up to cup his head, fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck, Dean please, please don’t stop.” You trembled, your voice breaking as a broken moan left your lips. He could hear the desperation in your voice, that aching need for release, he knew you better than he knew himself. 

“Come on, let me see it, let me see you fall apart,” He coaxed as he pulled back, hiking one of your legs high on his torso. He buried himself so deep it made your eyes roll into the back of your head when he brushed over your most sensitive spot. And he did it, again, and again. Until you were crying out. But what really sent you over the edge was his thumb brushing over your clit. He rubbed quick circles over the sensitive bud until your walls gripped him so tight it made his eye roll back. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my girl.”

He held you as you trembled, his hips slightly faltering and his thrusts became a bit erratic as he chased his own release. 

“Gonna fill you up,” He groaned in your ear, your juices allowing him to bury himself just a fraction into you. You held him, arms thrown over his neck and his name leaving your lips like a faint praise. Though you were still a bit hazy, you felt him press a hand to your stomach, cold wedding band sending slight chills down your spine. “Right here.” 

You were trembling under his, thoughts barely coherent, but you breathed out, “Yes, please.”

Your lips found his jaw and your fingers pulled his hair so hard it made him groan. And suddenly he was still, buried deep inside you as pleasure overtook him. He spilled himself inside you with a groan, the muscles in his back tensing as his head fell over your neck. He sat still inside you, his pants and your own mixing in the air. He had come inside you many times before, hell, he didn’t remember the last time he didn’t, but fuck, this felt different. It felt so goddamn right, the idea of what this meant of it felt right. 

Dean moved eventually, probably when his arm got tired of holding his weight. He pressed a wet kiss to your lips before he slipped out of you, the loss of him making you hiss softly when you felt your mixed juices drip down your thigh. Though you expected him to lay down beside you but he moved down instead, and you gasped in surprise when you felt his lips on your stomach. And he pressed his forehead against your belly, his ringed hand rubbing your side gently. You felt him sigh, and you heard him mutter something you couldn’t quite make out. He kissed your belly again, for a bit longer before he was on feet, telling you he would be right back as he tugged his boxers back on. 

You were too tired to question him, you were fucked out and sleepy, so you simply nodded. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until you heard Dean say your name and you felt his hand on your face. You opened your eyes, squinting slightly as you looked at him. He had a wet rag on his hand, so you let him clean you up. He was silent the whole time, not a single sound came from him. And his expression was unreadable. You sometimes wished you could see what was on his man's mind. Even after being married and him opening up to you about a lot of things, the man was still impenetrable. 

He found his spot beside you eventually, the room dark as you settled on his chest. He threw an arm around you and held you while his other arm was behind his head. You shifted, head tilted back and you brought a hand to his face, palm flat on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed. 

“You’re a good man Dean.” You said softly, catching the adoring look in his eyes, even in the darkest they were still bright. “And you’re a good husband, and there’s no one else I would rather have kids with some day.”

A smile tugged at his lips, “Some day? That means we gotta keep tryin’ right?”

You could hear the insinuation in his tone, and you could see the suggestive smile on his lips, even in the darkness, “Yes, yes we do.”

“Awesome.”

[deanwanddamons]

Writing Pattern Game

I was tagged by @zepskies and @kaleldobrev ♥️

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

First Lines

Love to Hate You - Soldier Boy x F Supe!Reader.

‘His strength was phenomenal’

Undercover- Prologue - Detective Dean AU

Dean had woken with a start. A sheen of sweat covered his body, his limbs tangled in the sheets.

Undercover - Chapter One - Detective Dean AU

Dean walked through the winding streets of Pasadena, Los Angeles, making his way towards the precinct where he would now be working. 

Undercover - Chapter Two - Detective Dean AU

Dean and Benny entered the abandoned warehouse, their Glock 19’s drawn, the flashlights that were tucked up beside the muzzle providing only a small amount of illumination through the dense shadows.

Invisible - Dean x F!Reader (eventual)

Y/N was Bobby’s niece.

Who Ya Gonna Call? - Jensen Ackles x Makeup Artist Reader

“You're going where?” Y/N asked, lightly brushing her thumb over Jensen's skin in order to blend the foundation she was applying to his face.

Right In Front Of Your Eyes - Barista!Dean x Barista!Reader

“How about this photo?”

Down on Dean - Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Hearing the distinct slam of the Impala’s door, Y/N was excited that her boyfriend, Dean, was home from his most recent hunt. She had been waiting in the crow's nest for him, bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently, knowing what she had planned.

The Sheriff and the Painted Lady - Cowboy!Dean x F!Reader (Kind of)

Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror. How had her life ended up like this?

No One Will Notice - Demon!Dean Winchester x Y/N

You hoped he would be back. The devilishly handsome man who, when you had first met him, had scared the hell out of you.

Patterns

Personally, I haven’t really noticed any patterns. Sometimes I start with dialogue, other times it’s descriptive 🤷🏻‍♀️

If anyone else notices something I don't, please point it out to me! ❤️

No pressure tags: @waywardbaby @iprobablyshipit91 @waynes-multiverse @wayward-dreamer @justagirlinafandomworld @princessmisery666 @pink-sparkly-witch @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior and anyone else who wants to join in.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Man's Best Friend with Benefits: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

!! Warnings: stillborn, baby in dies in womb, trauma associated with that, explicit (minor) talk of baby dying, heartbreak, really heavy angst, canon angst and violence !!

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

"Help me, please! It's my wife!" Dean yells as he barges through the doors of the hospital.

The nurses drop what they're doing to help Dean, wheeling over a portable hospital bed to set you down on. Joanna is in Sam's arms with no clue what is going on, Sam is trying not to panic and freak out his niece, but Dean is a complete mess. He has tears rolling down his face, his hands are shaking, and his heart is racing a million miles a second.

"Sir, we need you to calm down. What happened?" one of the nurses asks him.

"Please help her. She can't die. She fell down and she won't wake up."

A couple of doctors aid the nurses in wheeling you into a room to assess the damages without Dean present. Two nurses hold Sam and Dean back, and he watches as you disappear into the examination room with a bunch of nurses and doctors.

"Sir, could you please tell me what happened?"

"I'm not sure. My daughter said she fell. She was just doing laundry. I don't know how she fell. Please save her. She's pregnant with twins," Dean begs.

"I can assure you that the doctors are going to do everything they possibly can to save all three of them. Please, let's get you checked in, and we will be able to move forward from there."

Sam waits in the waiting room with Joanna while Dean checks in, and once he's finished, he joins Sam. Dean rests his elbows on his thighs, puts his head in the palms of his hands, and just cries. Sam has never seen his brother like this before. He knows how much Dean loves you and his children, but this is just heartbreaking.

"I can't lose her, Sam," Dean sniffles. "I can't lose any of them."

"Let's just wait until the doctor comes out. She's going to be just fine. She's the Sapphire Witch. She'll be just fine."

"Shit, I forgot about James." James is a cop that asked Sam and Dean for help on a case. He didn't leave a detailed message, but if he asked Sam and Dean for help, it has to be monster related. "I can't go, Sammy."

"We'll figure it out."

Joanna fusses and begins to cry. She hasn't eaten anything since you got home from the previous case, and she is getting cranky. All of her toys and snacks are in the Impala, giving Dean the opportunity to escape the hospital even for a little bit.

"Her stuff is in the car," Dean sniffles and grabs his daughter from Sam. Both Sam and Dean get up and leave the hospital to head to the car. "I can't believe this is happening right now."

"Are we calling James, then?"

"No, not right now. I have to know what is wrong with Y/N before we do anything."

Dean opens the back door of the car and sets Joanna on the ground before getting her bag that has all of her toys and snacks in it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be staying here, so he wants to be prepared for anything.

"I wonder what he wanted. We owe him for saving our asses."

Dean shuts the door just as a Doberman dog runs up to Sam and jumps on him.

"It's a puppy!" Joanna grins.

"She has no tags. I wonder where her owners are."

The dog jumps back down and before their very eyes, the dog transforms into a slender dark-skinned woman with a red collar around her neck. Sam and Dean jump back as Dean grabs his daughter to protect her and Sam unsheathes his knife.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Not a shapeshifter, so you can stash the blade. I'm a familiar."

"A what?"

"A companion to a witch--some witches. They split their time between human and animal form," Sam explains.

"I get a more accurate read on people in my other persona. Approaching guys in a hospital parking lot like this can get complicated. My name's Portia. I belong to James Frampton."

"No, that doesn't work for us because that would mean our friend is a witch," Dean shakes his head.

"Wow, you're quick," Portia says sarcastically.

"James is a fucking witch?"

"He wasn't one when you met him, but that last case you worked on with him, he wanted to learn more about the black arts and witchcraft. It became the center of his life."

"Wait, so you're telling me that James, the cop, became a witch because of us?" Dean scoffs.

"You don't like dogs, do you?" Portia grins, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Is James still a cop?" Sam asks.

"He's a homicide detective. His new powers make his work even better."

"What does he need from us?" Sam asks.

"Well, something's been happening to him. It started with excruciating headaches, screaming sounds in his ears, and horrible nightmares. He wasn't able to sleep or think. He can't work. It's like he's having a breakdown. Maybe you can find a way to help him."

"So, he thinks these dreams are real? He thinks that he is actually killing people?" Dean asks, trying to wrap his head around this.

He has too much on his plate right now to be thinking rationally about this.

"I think so. At least that's what I picked up before he started blocking me," Portia sighs.

"What does that mean, blocking you?"

"Familiars and their masters can communicate telepathically. I can get inside of James' head anytime I want, but he shut me out."

"You think maybe there's something in there he doesn't want you to see?"

"Possibly something dark, you know, that's destroying him. He can't go to the police, and he doesn't trust other witches."

"You're saying he trusts us? You do know who we are, right? We're the last people that somebody like James needs to be telling his troubles to," Dean sighs.

"This was my idea. I was the one who sent you the text under James' name. He doesn't know you're here, but I think you're maybe all he has."

"I can't leave, Sammy," Dean says emotionally. "I can't leave Y/N knowing she is here like this."

"It's okay, I'll call Garth. He'll understand and work it with me. I'll call with updates as long as you do the same."

"Yeah," Dean whispers.

Dean tosses his brother his keys since he grabbed everything he needs out of it. Sam and Portia get into the car. Sam takes out his phone and calls Garth, grateful that he answers on the first ring.

"Hey Sam, what's up?"

"I need your help on a case."

"What's wrong with Dean?"

"Y/N is in the hospital. It's not looking good, so I need you to help me with this one. Dean is out of commission right now."

"Yeah, of course. Send me the deets."

"Thanks, Garth."

Dean watches his brother drive off with a sometimes dog, and he scoops Joanna into his arms while she snacks on something. As soon as he enters, he sees one of the doctors asking around for whoever came in with you.

"For Y/N? Anyone here for Y/N?"

"That's me," Dean says quickly and jogs over to him. "Is she okay? Are my kids?"

"Come with me. It's best if we talk in here."

The doctor leads Dean to an empty conference room where he can talk freely about your condition without anyone overhearing them. Dean sets Joanna on the table, and she nibbles on her snack while playing with her dolls. She doesn't know what is going on, and it breaks Dean's heart knowing she doesn't understand what might be happening.

"Please, is my wife going to be okay?" Dean keeps it together for the sake of Joanna.

"You said she fell? What did she fall on?"

"I don't know. Maybe the washing machine?"

"From our initial CT scan, we noticed she has a cranial bleed that will need immediate surgery. She is being wheeled down as we speak, and I will be performing her surgery. If we can stop it from getting worse, I hope for her to make a full recovery."

"What about my kids?"

"Due to your wife's condition, the babies need to be born today through a C-section. We have a pediatric surgeon on stand-by for when that will happen. They will be born two months early, so they are both going to be placed in the NICU for two months as we monitor their progress."

"Okay," Dean whispers.

"I'll give you some privacy. I will be out as soon as we have more information for you."

The doctor leaves the room to give Dean some time alone. Dean wants to cry for you, but he knows that if he starts doing this, it's only going to freak Joanna out.

"I want mama," she says.

"Mama is going to be okay. I promise. Mama is just sleeping right now. She'll wake up soon."

How can he expect to think about Sam and Garth when he knows you're lying inside an OR waiting to get operated on? Sam can handle this kind of case, no doubt, but he still worries about his little brother. In fact, when Sam and Garth got to Portia's house, they weren't the most welcome by James.

"You had no right to do this!" James yells at Portia.

They are in the kitchen while Sam and Garth are waiting in the living room, but they can still hear them.

"I was afraid for your life!"

"My life is none of their business!"

Portia gets so angry that she turns back into a Doberman and storms out of the room. She looks at Sam and Garth before leaving the room altogether. James walks into the living room, and both Sam and Garth stand up to greet him.

"Sam, Garth."

"Why don't you tell us about these dreams? She said people were dying in them," Sam says in understanding.

"Dying? They were torn to bits. I could feel my fingers rip into their flesh."

"But they were dreams?" Garth asks.

"Well, I woke up in my bed. I'm not sure if they are dreams or not. I know these people died, though. I checked with the precinct."

"Maybe you heard it, and it stuck in your head. We can't jump to conclusions," Sam says.

"You don't think I told myself all that? You don't think I didn't say, 'that wasn't me. I couldn't have done such a thing'?"

James walks over to the table where his bag is sitting. He unzips a pouch and pulls out a blood-stained shirt he found in his trash can after having the dream about killing someone.

"Is it yours?"

"James Martin Frampton," James shows them the initials embroidered on the pocket. "What is happening to me?"

"Maybe you pissed off another witch, and he or she hexed you and forced you to kill those people?"

"It's possible, I suppose, but I never heard of it."

"How many of these dreams have you had?" Garth wonders.

"Four. The most recent one was last night. It was a blind man. I was choking him, and, uh..."

"Alright, James," Sam cuts him off seeing how distressed he is about this, "we're going to help you figure this out. If we're going to help you, you need to help us."

"How?"

"House arrest, my friend," Garth grins, tossing a duffel bag of witch-proof chains onto the ground in front of him.

James wants to know who is doing this to him, so he has no issue chaining himself up. If someone else dies, and he is chained up the entire time, then someone is doing this to him. Someone is framing him for these murders, and that would prove that another witch is involved.

Sam and Garth need to do some research in case James isn't lying, so for the time being, they are hanging out in a motel nearby.

"How is Y/N doing? What happened?" Garth asks innocently.

"She fell and hit her head against the laundry machine. We don't know much except for it's a big deal. I'm not sure what's going to happen with her or the twins. I wanted to be with Dean, but I know he wouldn't forgive me if I didn't help James."

"My thoughts and prayers are with her."

"Thanks," Sam whispers. Sam takes out his laptop while Garth has loads of newspapers, files, and other things associated with the case. "So, I just got to the crime-scene reports, and they are exactly the same as James told us about the vics, dates, and locations. The most recent one was a blind man, just like he said."

"That's not good," Garth sighs.

"Also, I looked into his record on the force. He went from rookie detective to lieutenant basically overnight, and in the last four years, his solve rate's been right at about 100%."

"If he's been using his magic, it's obvious that he would have that success rate."

Sam stares at his laptop, but he isn't thinking about the case. He's thinking about you and his niece and nephew. As if on cue, his phone rings, and it's a message from Dean.

She is being taken into surgery. Will update you later.

x

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