#even if it was important dean should still have never said this

[icaruspendragon]

remember in 1x12 (faith) when dean has the conversation with the faith healer and he says, "why? why me? out of all the sick people, why save me?" and the healer answers, "well, like i said before, the lord guides me. i looked into your heart and you just... stood out from all the rest." and dean asks, "what did you see in my heart?" and the faith healer answers, "a young man with an important purpose- a job to do. and it isn't finished."

and then remember when in 2x13 (houses of the holy) when sam asks dean, "why can't you even consider the possibility?" and dean says "what, that this is an angel?" and sam says "yes. maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop. maybe this is god's will." and then dean says "okay. all right. you know what? i get it. you've got faith. that's -- hey, that's good for you. i'm sure it makes things easier. i'll tell you who else had faith like that -- mom. she used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. in fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me." and sam says, "you never told me that." and dean responds, "what's to tell? she was wrong. there was nothing protecting her. there's no higher power. there's no god. there's just chaos and violence. and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. so you want me to believe in this stuff? i'm gonna need to see some hard proof. you got any?"

and then remember in 4x01 (lazarus rising) when dean meets castiel and asks "who are you?" and castiel says, "i'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." and then again dean asks, "who are you?" and castiel responds, "castiel." and dean says, "yeah i figured that much, i mean what are you?" and cas says, "i'm an angel of the lord." and dean says, "get the hell out of here. there's no such thing." and cas shows him the fearsome wrath of heaven and later dean says, "look pal i'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" and cas says, "i told you." and dean says, "right. and why would an angel, rescue me from hell?" and cas tells him, "good things do happen, dean." and dean says, "not in my experience." and cas asks him, "what's the matter?" and then tells him, "you don't think you deserve to be saved." and dean asks, "why'd you do it?" and cas tells him "because god commanded it. because we have work for you."

and then remember when in 4x16 (on the head of a pin) when cas is talking to dean in the hospital and dean asks, "is it true? did i start all of this?" and cas has to say, "yes. when we discovered lilith's plan for you... we laid siege to hell, and we fought our way to get to you before you --" and dean cuts in to say "jump-started the apocalypse." and cas' gaze turns skyward as he says, "but we were too late." and dean asks, "why didn't you just leave me there, then?" and cas, with eyes still upward says, "it's not... blame that falls on you, dean. it's fate." and cas turns his gaze downward once more as he says, "and the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it." and then he turns to dean, looking at him for the first time, and says, "you have to stop it." and dean asks, "lucifer? the apocalypse? what does that mean?" and cas looks away from him and says nothing so dean says, "hey. don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. what does that mean?" and cas is staring resolutely forward as he says, "i don't know." and dean exclaims "bull!" and cas once more says, "i don't." before looking at dean again and saying, "dean, they don't tell me much. i know... how our fate rests with you." and then dean, with tears in his eyes says, "well, then you guys are screwed." and then he says, "i can't do it, cas. it's too big." and then he says, "alastair was right. i'm not all here. i'm not -- i'm not strong enough." and then cas looks back and dean and dean looks away from cas for the first time since the conversation started and says, "well, i guess i'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be." and cas looks away and dean says "find someone else. it's not me." and the tears dean has been trying so hard to hold back finally fall.

anyway. i just thought all of that was kinda interesting.

[apocalypseornaw]

Prove It (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean comes home to find you gone

Dean was leaning against the bar when he saw Sam come back inside. He'd went to call you so you wouldn't be worried that they weren't back yet. The look on Sam's face had him pushing away from the bar and meeting him halfway "What's wrong?"

Sam looked down at his phone which was still in his hand before asking "Dean did you do something to Y/N?" Dean shook his head slowly, "What do you mean?" "She said she didn't give a damn when you got home and hung up on me"

The moment of realization hit Dean like a brick wall "Sammy, I fucked up"

The entire drive home Dean and Sam took turns trying to call you. You must have turned your phone off after a while because it had gone from ringing to the voicemail "If you have this number you know who this is and what to do so there's the beep"

"I can't believe I forgot" Dean said for what felt like the thousandth time. You had told him, you'd fucking told him that you were planning a surprise. What the hell kind of shitty boyfriend was he if he couldn't even come home for the surprise? Or remember it for fucks sake.

"She's just turned her phone off to get some sleep. Her feelings are hurt but she'll forgive you" he knew Sam didn't even believe himself at that point. You did everything for both of them, had for years. You were Sam's best friend and Dean was head over heels yet between the two of them they couldn't manage to rub two brain cells together to remember such an important date.

You deserved to be pissed, you deserved to ignore him. You deserved so much more than to be forgetten. "SON OF A BITCH" he slammed his hand on the steering wheel seeing Sam flinch slightly.

"It's gonna be ok Dean" Sam tried but he shook his head "and if it's not?" He asked and Sam didn't even attempt to lie or come up with some optimistic twist. Sam knew him, he knew that you had pulled him out of such a dark place even long before the two of you had gotten together. You'd been in their lives for so long, the only constant, the glue when they tried to fall apart. They'd you for granted, Dean had taken you for granted and the thought of losing you was too much.

Dean walked into the bunker and until that moment he'd never realized just how loud complete silence was. There was no music playing marking where you were, no sounds of pages flipping if you were reading, no water running for a shower and most of the lights were off leaving the entire bunker lit in that eerie blue color the auxiliary lights let off.

"Check your room, I'll check the garage for her car" Sam told Dean and patted his shoulder before walking off. Dean knew without checking the room, without seeing if your car was in the garage without any other confirmation but the heavy weight in his stomach. You were gone.

-----------

Dean walked into the room he shared with you and immediately noticed your jacket gone off the hook next to the bed. He didn't have to check dressers, they'd be empty. Your boots were gone from next to the bed.

On the table in the corner of the room sat a dark green gift bag, next to it was a covered pie and a card with his name written in your handwriting.

He walked over and picked up the card. When he opened it he sat down on one of the chairs and began to read. You'd poured your heart out onto the page saying how much you loved him and how important it was to you that he knew he deserved to be celebrated and how happy you were with him.

By the time he was through reading he had to lay the card down and close his eyes from the flow of emotions. He'd let you down, the one person you should always be able to count on and he hadn't been there for you. "Dean?" He opened his eyes to see Sam standing at the door. "She's gone Sammy"

He looked at the gift bag and pulled it closer to look inside. A signed led zeppelin album. He laid it back into the bag then opened the pie, apple. When Sam noticed what he was doing he motioned to the hall "There's steaks potatoes and grilled vegetables in the fridge"

"She made all my favorites. She chased down an album that probably took her weeks to get her hands on. She sat here waiting for me to come home to celebrate the last six years we've been together and I couldn't even do that for her" Dean laid his head back against the wall. "I gotta find her Sam. I got to try to make up for this, to show her just what she means to me"

Sam nodded "I'll start making phonecalls to see if anyone's seen her" Dean nodded, his mind imagining you sitting there waiting for him. The excitement giving way to worry then to betrayal. How could he forget?

@lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898 @fluff-lover

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Reunion part 2

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you become tired of all the moving around, and confront Dean in a way he can’t ignore.

Set one month after part 1

Dean could tell that your energy level was fading fast. After spending eight months at Bobby’s place, moving around every few days was wearing you out quick.

You never had been very good at sleeping in the car, and lately that had been the only place to sleep. The lack of rest was coming out in unpleasant ways, and you’d been snippy the past week. Sam, who also wasn’t sleeping well lately, had been clashing with you more and more as the days dragged on. Most of the time, it was all Dean could do to keep the two of you from strangling each other.

On this night however, things were a little different.

Sam had just left in the Impala to get some food to pacify the tense atmosphere, and Dean was doing some research about a possible hunt nearby. They’d just finished up a hunt, and he was hoping not to have to travel far for the next one.

“Hey, how do you feel about a couple hours’ drive tomorrow?” He asked you.

“Gee, I don’t know, how to you feel about driving Baby off a cliff?” You snapped.

“Wow, ok grumpy,” Dean frowned.

“Screw you,” you scoffed.

“Alright easy tiger,” Dean stared at you. He knew you were tired, but some behavior was just unacceptable.

“Why don’t you just leave me be?” You demanded, turning your chair so your back was to him. He reached out and grabbed the arm of your seat, spinning it around so you were facing him again.

“Hey, look, I know it’s been a long few weeks, but this-“

“Oh don’t start this crap, it’s not like we’re all in the same boat here. It’s only been a long few weeks because we’re moving around so much, and we’re not doing that because of me, Dean. That’s all on you.”

Dean stood, “Hey, drop the tone alright? I’m getting really sick of you griping all the time, you were raised better and I expect better, understand?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, standing and brushing past Dean, heading for the bathroom.

Dean grabbed your arm, halting your movement.

“I said; understand?”

You shoved his arm, twisting out of his grasp and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Dean bit back a groan.

Well, that went well.

…

The second the door slammed shut behind you, you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes.

Why had you said all that crap to Dean? Sure, you’d been tired and irritable lately, but were things really that bad?

You felt horrible for every word you’d said, but at the same time, the whole situation of the past month, the past year really, was draining you. You didn’t know where to begin to apologize to your brother, but you really were sorry.

Things were just so complicated now. John had been gone for so long, and even after a month of searching you hadn’t found him. You also missed Bobby, having spent eight months getting closed to him.

But at the same time, you wanted nothing more than to be close to your brothers.

Fat chance of that now. You’d been arguing a lot with Sam the past week, and after what just happened with Dean…

You made a decision just then. Family was too important to leave things the way they were.

You took a deep breath, grabbing the door handle and hesitating only a moment before turning it.

“Dean?”

Dean remained silent as you stepped out of the bathroom and over to where he was hunched over the computer.

“Dean, I’m really sorry.”

Dean hummed, still not looking up.

You felt the tears return despite your attempt to blink them back. You felt stupid, crying through your own apology as if you were the one who should be upset instead of Dean.

“Would you say something?”

At this, Dean looked up.

“Are…are you crying?”

You mistook his worried tone for a mocking one, and at this you could no longer hold back. The tears flowed unbidden, and you buried your head in your hands so you wouldn’t have to face your big brother.

To your surprise, you heard the scrape of a chair and then felt his arms encircle your small frame.

“Hey, baby it’s ok. I’m not mad, really.”

“You’re not?” You sniffed.

“No, no it’s ok, really.”

You still felt the need to explain your outburst.

“I didn’t mean it, really, I-I just,” you bit back the sob that threatened to bubble over. “I’m so tired, Dean. We keep moving around and I’m so tired of it. I don’t understand why-why we can’t just get a home.”

You felt your feet lift off the ground as Dean carried you over to your bed. He sat you down on it and knelt in front of you, his green eyes piercing.

“I know you don’t understand, and I wish I could explain in.”

“Why can’t you?” Your lip quivered.

“We’ve talked about this. You know enough already, probably too much.” Dean brushed a stray tear off your cheek, and gave you a feeble smile. “Can you trust me about this? Please?”

You nodded silently, and then-

“Dean?”

Dean hummed.

“Are we ever gonna stop?”

Dean pulled you into his arms, and his desperate hold made you wonder if he wanted to know that, too.

“I don’t know, baby,” Dean confided. “Maybe someday.” He pulled away. “But for now, you got me, Sammy, and soon dad, too. Can…can that just be enough for now.”

You smiled and pulled him back so his arms were around you once more.

“That’s enough forever.”

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Two

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Pairing(s): John x Daughter!Innocent!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Incest, naive!reader, manipulation, graphic descriptions of porn, fluff, virgin!reader, oral (female receiving), daddy kink *I guess*, praise kink, soft n fluffy, angst (?), light thigh riding, smut implied 

W/C: 5.7k+

A/N: I forgot I was supposed to be posting this story! Happy almost Thanksgiving to my American followers!

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

Some time ago...

Things started off innocently. Sam and Dean were at school and you were at the motel doing what you usually did- you read, and read, and read, and read until John walked through the doors. 

You were ecstatic to see him. John had been away for a few weeks too wrapped up in the case to even call home. The look of relief in your father's eyes when he saw you was like no other, he loved you more than anything in the world. 

John took you to lunch, saying it was to make up for all the time he missed with you- not bothering to pull Sam and Dean out of school like he usually did. Things seemed normal all throughout lunch, you chose of course, but things changed drastically when he asked you a certain question during the car ride home. 

"Do you know what sex is?" John asked, looking over to you as he kept a firm grip on the steering wheel. 

Your brows furrowed at the question. It sounded familiar, it really did, but you had no idea what it actually meant. 

"I don't think so," You told him calmly and he let out a low chuckle. 

Judging his reaction, it definitely seemed like something you should know about, so you began to feel a little embarrassed at your lack of knowledge. 

"You mean, your brothers never taught you what it was?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and keeping a small smile on his face. 

You shook your head and he didn't seem particularly pleased or displeased. 

"Normally, by your age, you know what it is. You're already legally an adult." John mentioned.

"So then... does Sammy know about this?" You asked, tilting your head, and wondering why your twin had never said anything about sex.

"I'm sure he does, sweetheart. Caught him with one of Dean's not-so-private skin mags," John chuckled and you scrunched your nose. 

"What's a skin mag?" You asked him and he continued to chuckle at your question. 

"It's pictures of sex. We call it porn," John answered and you frowned, still not knowing what the hell he was talking about. 

"Daddy, I don't know what that is," You reminded him and instead of the instant explanation you wanted, he looked over smiling and shaking his head. 

"God, I wish you could stay little forever," He sighed and you continued to frown, wishing that you knew why this conversation was occurring or why it was so important for you to know about. "When you and Sammy shower together, does he ever touch you?" He asked and his face shifted to concern.

"Yeah, he helps me wash my hair sometimes, but mostly he just uses all of the hot water," You huffed out, crossing your arms, and John shook his head. 

"I meant, does he put his hands on your body?" He reiterated and you shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what he was gaining with these questions. 

"Sometimes he helps me wash my back," You answered and John nodded his head. 

"Do you ever wonder why you have different body parts than him?" He asked and you slumped your face, of course, you wondered why, but you knew that it was just because you were of different sexes. 

"I guess, but Sammy says it's just because I'm a girl and he's a boy," You told him all the information you knew and he nodded his head. 

"So, you know that boys can't get pregnant right?" He asked and you nodded your head. "And you know that boys don't get periods?" He asked again. 

"Yeah, because Sam doesn't get them and neither does Dean. Only I do," You crossed your arms, thinking about how unfair it was that they didn't bleed once a month.

"Okay, well at least you know the basics," John sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips. 

"Is this the part where you tell me what and why we're talking about this? You said you didn't want to talk about when I get my periods," You turned your head to look for his reaction, and he just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

"I don't. It's just- It's just important if we're going to talk about sex," He muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't know what that is," You reiterated, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

"I, uh, I never had this conversation with your brothers. They kinda figured it out on their own," He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't holding on tightly to the steering wheel. 

It wasn't even worth responding to, so you decided to stay silent until he said something else. You could tell that he was feeling awkward, but you weren't- you were just impatiently waiting. 

John looked over and gave you a small smile to which you just raised your eyebrow, then his face straightened and he knew you were waiting for something more. 

"You know what, sweetheart? I think it just be better if I showed you."

•••

He dragged himself in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. His eyes were locked into hers as his forehead began to form sweat beads, panting like he was running a marathon. 

Their lips connected and their tongues ran against each other as he continued to move above her. When he pulled his lips back, she had her mouth parted slightly, close to tears falling out as she cried out profanities. 

But she wasn't actually upset and he wasn't actually hurting her, they were enjoying it- John made sure you knew that.

You stared at Sam's computer in awe, they were so in love with one another- so happy to be together like this. You didn't understand what was so awkward about it, you were confused as to why you had never seen anything like this before- confused as to why you had never done it. 

They both looked so pretty like this, so close together and in complete and utter bliss. She was gorgeous, her breasts were perfectly symmetrical- almost like she was handcrafted. Her lips were stained with red and her body was glistening in the bright lighting that infected the room. 

He had the perfect body too, big strong arms that held onto her like she was a breath of fresh air. His chest was chiseled flawlessly and he reminded you of John and your brothers, they were all just as handsome as he was. 

"Remember: You only do this with people you love," John reminded from behind you, watching you closely as you reluctantly peeled your eyes away. 

"I can do this with Sam?" You asked as your eyes reached his. 

John frowned at your question and you grew impatient as your excitement only grew.

"I love him. How come we don't have sex?" You questioned again and John's face fell into the palm of his hand, his fingertips rubbing harshly against his temples.

"Sweetheart, you don't do that kind of stuff with your brothers," John answered with a sigh, picking his head up to look back at your confused stare. 

"Oh, right. That's her Daddy. I almost forgot." You said and his eyes widened.

"I think you've had enough for today," John cleared his throat and his hand reached over you to stop the video playing in the background, but your hand reached his first. 

"Daddy, don't turn it off. I like it," You told him with a small smile, his wide eyes staring at you as you watched his Adam's apple move up and down as he gulped. 

John nodded his head slowly, bringing his hand back to rest at his side, and you turned your head to watch the screen again. 

You stared intently as you began to focus on all of the sex happening right in front of your eyes. She sounded so pretty every time he shoved himself fully inside of her. He was grunting and telling her how much of a slut she was and at first it confused you- it was a bad word and Dean used it negatively when he didn't like someone. So why did she seem so happy to hear the mean name? 

After watching the first few minutes, you discovered she actually liked being called slut. She kept saying yes yes yes, and it only made him go faster, which in return made her cries louder. Her begging was like music to your ears, and for a second you began to imagine yourself in her position. 

What if someone made you feel that good? What if they made you so happy that you were screaming in pleasure? 

Thinking about being her brought out a feeling that you had never felt before. First it gave you the chills and you had goosebumps prickling on your skin. Then you started to feel it in your stomach- almost like period cramps, but in a good way. 

After that, having pants on almost seemed uncomfortable, especially after feeling a new type of wetness in your panties. You watched as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, so passionate and raw, and it made you jealous. 

"Why don't you kiss me like that?" You snapped your head around to look at John. 

His face became flushed and it took a few seconds for him to respond back- which were mostly incoherent mumbles. 

"Don't you love me, Daddy?" You asked and he instantaneously jerked his arm away as you absentmindedly placed a hand on it. 

"I do love you, baby, I do. I just- they're not real. I didn't mean to- uh, they're not related." John managed to muster out, obviously flustered by your comments. 

"She kept calling him Daddy," You frowned, once again thinking about how much you wanted to be in her position. 

"I know, sweetheart. It was just the first video I clicked on. I wanted to get this over with." He sighed and it hurt your heart that he didn't want to do it with you. 

What if he didn't love you enough to do those things? What if Sam or Dean didn't love you enough? 

"Don't be sad, Y/N. It's just a video." John said, picking up on the sudden mood change, and reaching over to cup your cheek. 

Usually, it would make you feel better- it's something that he always did when you were upset- but it was different this time. 

"You don't love me enough for sex," You said, pushing his hand away and looking down. 

John had put you through all of this trouble of telling you about it- even showing it to you, and now he was going to deny the pit you felt in your stomach? 

"Y/N, you didn't even know what it was thirty minutes ago. You're not ready to have sex," John said in a quiet tone and you continued to frown.

Why was he being like this? Why would he show it to you if that's not what he wanted?

"I'm ready. I want to be like her, Daddy. The video made me feel things." You told him honestly, gaining the courage to look back up at him. 

Just as your courage regained, you could tell that his was suddenly gone. He looked as pale as a ghost as he swallowed down whatever liquid was in his throat. 

"What kinds of things, princess?" John asked nervously, almost sounding like he was guilty of something. 

His eyes were locked on yours and you couldn't help but feel like you might be able to break him. A perk of being Daddy's little girl was getting whatever you wanted. 

"I don't know how to explain it," You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to explain the way your core was aching for something. 

"It's called being horny. It's natural," He chuckled nervously, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead. 

"Do you feel it too?" You asked, seeing the way that his pants were tightening around his lower region like a tent. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," He sighed aloud, and your eyes watched as his hand pressed against the crotch of his pants.

"I want to be like her, Daddy," You confessed as your eyes began flickering up and down between his face and his legs, not sure which was a prettier sight.

The sweat and the bulge were both good indicators that he was ready to do things that were in the video, you just knew it. With a sudden whiff of confidence, your hand reached back and landed on his thigh, rubbing circles with your fingers. 

John didn't say anything. He didn't move either. You watched closely as his pants became more restrictive and it was evident that your hand on his thigh was doing something for him. Smiling at the reaction, you looked back up to him and saw an unusual darkness in his eyes. 

It came as a surprise when his hand came to meet yours and you expected him to move it away, but instead, he trailed it higher. Your fingers traced the rough denim material until they landed in between his legs. A small groan left his lips and you grinned at the sound because of how much it resonated with the guy in the video. 

After your hand sat there for a few seconds and you admired how hard he felt underneath you, he stood up without warning. You frowned, wishing that he never moved. 

Sighing aloud, John looked down at you as you looked up at him through your lashes. His hand came up to rest on your cheek as his thumb lightly brushed your bottom lip. 

You held onto his hand, relishing any touch that came to your body, and just as soon as it began, it ended. He pulled his hand back and you watched as he walked towards the opposite side of the room. 

"Come here," John commanded in a low and gruff voice, sitting on the edge of the unmade motel bed. 

You weren't sure whether to be eager or concerned as you stood up from your chair and made your way to him. His arms opened up as an invitation and you straddled his hips, lazily hanging your arms on his shoulders as you began to realize how intimately close the two of you were. 

You looked down, feeling instant relief as you pushed the weight of your core on him. It wasn't much, but even through your jeans and his, you could feel how good he felt pressed against you. His fingers came to the bottom of your chin and motioned your head up so that he could look at you. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" John asked, his eyes begging for you to say yes as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"Yes, Daddy. I love you," You confirmed, breathlessly waiting for him to do something to relieve the rapidly burning coil in your stomach. 

John's lips connected with yours as soon as he got his answer and you tried your best to copy his movements. It was effortless when your mouth began to move in sync with his. Each time his tongue reached into your mouth you felt like you knew exactly what to do. 

His lips felt like soft pillows every time they ran against yours- he was so perfect, you wanted to make him happy just like the guy was in the video. You chased his mouth as it pulled away, but didn't complain when you felt the wet kisses on your neck. 

John was sure to be careful as he took his time, giving you soft and warm kisses all along the crook of your neck, occasionally stopping to nip at your ear. 

Your fingers raked their way through John's hair and you heard him groan when you shifted your hips in an effort to get more comfortable. His fingers reached down, pulling the fabric on your torso over your head. 

You felt the goosebumps on your skin in reaction to the colder air and you traveled his gaze to your breasts. John brought his hands up, cupping through your bra and marveling at the sight in front of him. You took the initiative to reach around and unclasp your simple cloth covering, letting it slide down your arms and shoulders as your nipples hardened. 

"You are so beautiful, sweetheart," John said breathlessly, his eyes completely focused on the stiff peaks in front of him. 

Your cheeks swelled with his approval and you moaned when he brought his mouth to one of your breasts, tweaking the nipple with his tongue and running small circles around its entirety. Something about the way he was sucking made your core itch for attention, so your hips pressed up as close to him as possible. 

John moaned against your breast, his lips ghosting the skin on your chest and latching around the other nipple, treating it just as well as its predecessor. 

His hands trailed down the sides of your body, reaching the middle, and undoing the button on your jeans before encouraging you to stand up. As you raised, he slowly pulled your jeans down and let his fingertips touch your skin as they moved south. 

When the denim was pooled around your ankles, you held onto his shoulder for support as you kicked them off lightly. 

"Sit back down, Y/N," John told you and you followed directions. 

Straddling his hips once again, feeling much less constricted, he gripped tightly onto your sides. He shifted you slightly so that you rested completely on his thigh, instead of in between, and began to move your body back and forth. 

Small whimpers fled your mouth as you felt the friction rubbing against your aching core, it felt so unfamiliar and foreign to your body- but it felt so good. 

"Feel good, princess?" You heard John chuckle lightly, as his hands continued to move you. 

The wetness from your panties was sure to have made its way out, but you didn't care. Being like this with him like this felt so good. 

"Daddy, I want to make you feel good too," You told him, looking back into his eyes. 

John's hand reached up and brushed a stray hair away from your face, smiling at you. 

"Let Daddy make you feel good first," He answered in return and you nodded your head. 

His lips collided with yours as his grip on your hips tightened, picking you up and laying you flat on your back. He continued to kiss you passionately as he hovered above you, his hand reaching down and dipping into your soaked panties. 

You felt him smile into the kiss as his fingers easily glided through your slick and you moaned every time they would ghost against your clit. 

"You're so wet for me, baby."

"Is that a good thing?" You asked him and he chuckled at the question. 

"A very good thing," He told you and you smiled with the praise. 

Placing a quick peck on your lips, he adjusted himself so that his knees were on the ground. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your soft cotton underwear, pulling them down, and encouraged your thighs to open more. 

John brought his calloused thumb up to work small circles on your bundle of nerves and you moaned at the feeling. Everything that he did made you feel more and more relieved, you could practically feel how much he loved you. When you situated yourself on your elbows so you could see what he was doing, he looked up at you. 

"Can Daddy taste you?" He asked, licking his lips, as he looked directly into your eyes. 

"Please," You squeaked out, feeling hot and bothered and needing as much of him as you could get. 

Watching as his head disappeared in between your legs, you bit your lip as his tongue trailed once up your slit and collected as much wetness in his mouth as possible. You could hear his groaning in approval just before he began to delve into your core again. 

Not bothering to suppress your satisfaction, you moaned as his tongue flicked itself over and over on your clit, bringing out a type of burn that you'd never felt before. 

You could feel your core heat up as he relentlessly attacked you with his tongue, alternating between circling and flicking, perfectly timing when one or the other became too much or dull. He began to suck down lightly, pulling more moans out of your throat, and you felt the uneasiness in your stomach waiting to spill itself. 

Your fingers locked themselves in his short hair, gaining a grunt from him as he began to go faster with his motions. His tongue was hammering your sensitive bud at a furious pace, leaving you a moaning mess as something suddenly snapped inside of you. 

"Daddy," You whined when he didn't stop. 

Your hips buckled and your thighs tried to shut themselves as John's hands wrapped around and held you down. He kept the pace as he helped you get through whatever it was that just happened. Once he was satisfied, he came to the surface, leaving your legs shaking. 

"What was that?" You asked him, panting as you tried to stop your legs from moving on their own. He continued to hover above you.

"That was an orgasm, sweetheart," John told you before placing a tender kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself when his tongue reached into your mouth, moaning at how satisfied and happy he seemed to be. 

•••

Things were never the same after that day. John insisted on not taking your virginity until he was sure it was going to be special. He wanted the whole candle-lit dinner and the rose petals on the bed, but mostly- he wanted it not to occur in a shitty motel. 

John wanted the whole nine yards just for you and as much as you wanted that too, you didn't really care about the fine details. You wanted him as soon as you could get him and you didn't care what the circumstances were, even if that meant losing your virginity in a crappy motel where the beds creaked.

Plans were whisked away from the two of you, a hunt would come up or Sam and Dean would stick around for too long. It almost seemed impossible to find the 'right' time. 

In between, John helped you learn different things that surrounded sex. You could only assume that those acts were just as satisfying as the real thing, but it only made you crave him more. 

You were so eager to please John and he seemed to feel the same way about you, making you feel more special than Sam or Dean ever felt. Everything just made so much sense, everything seemed so perfect. 

It was hard to contain yourself around your brothers, but John wanted to keep your relationship a secret. You didn't understand why. Why wouldn't he want to show Sam and Dean how happy he made you? Was he embarrassed? Were you not good enough to boast about?

Those questions didn't matter in the middle of the night when he would steal you away to his truck. Every bliss-filled night brought a euphoric feeling that lingered for the following days... but then he would leave. Again. 

It became a routine. Things would seem so hopeful that maybe in a few days, he would be able to steal you away for the night- make it special, but those plans seemed almost hopeless as the weeks went on. 

The hunts became more frequent, especially after Sam came home from school, and John wanted both of his boys as strong as possible- so he chose to hunt by himself most of the time. 

John also became a bit hunt-hungry, losing days of sleep and trying his best to find the monster that killed your mother. It was consuming him and John only really ever seemed to be at peace when he was with you- when you helped suck out every ounce of worry from his soul. 

But a strange guilt was burning slowly in your core. Sam was the one person you trusted in your entire life. The one person you could trust with your secrets, the one person you could trust to be on time, the one person you could trust to be there for you. 

When Sam would come home from school and tell you about his day, or come back from a small day hunt with Dean, you would have nothing to say to him. 

You weren't reading like usual, you were too busy with John or learning new things from porn. You weren't supposed to tell Sam and it ate at you every day. 

It hurt to keep something so special and important away from him. You've told him everything since the moment you could talk- the only saving grace was that he was keeping things from you too. 

First, it started off with him not telling you about sex or what it was. Then, it turned into getting girlfriends that he wouldn't tell anybody about. He was hiding things from you for the first time in your life and you didn't understand why. 

Was he upset with you? Did John say anything to him? Or was he just growing apart from you? 

Showers seemed to be less fun for the past three months. Sam barely talked to you. He barely cracked a joke, he didn't even turn the water cold on purpose to make you squeal. It was just a shower now. You got in, you washed your hair, he washed his hair, you washed your body, he washed his body, and then you both got out. 

Sam wasn't the same Sam that you knew and loved, but you tried your best not to notice.

It was another day. Another boring and quiet shower. Sam hogged all of the water while you focused on trying your best to be normal. 

To be honest, you were upset. All of these months, waiting for him to say something. You were waiting for Sam to explain why he was acting so strangely, but he didn't. 

Sam closed himself off from everybody and every shower that remained silent, other than the casual 'pass the shampoo' that seared into your heart. Maybe Sam didn't love you as much as he used to. Maybe he found someone else. 

You couldn't hold it in anymore- you couldn't live without knowing what was going on in Sam's head. 

"Are you okay?" You asked Sam quietly. He just shrugged his shoulders in return. 

Sam muttered 'I'm fine' and nodded his head, turning back to finish washing his hair. You frowned, knowing that he was probably not fine, and continued to pry. 

"Sammy, please. Just talk to me." You frowned, watching the soapy water fall down his back.

"Talk to you about what?" Sam asked in return, bitterness in his voice that shocked you to your core. 

His tone definitely showed you that he was upset about something, and it hurt to know that he was bottling it in himself. You trembled when he snapped, shivers running down your spine that brought you to cross your arms, and you watched the way he glared at you when he turned around. 

It hurt especially because it was the same glare he often gave your father. It was the same hatred in his eyes and you didn't know what you did to deserve it. 

"Y/N, I'm not angry. I promise. I'm sorry for scaring you." Sam must have picked up on your hurt as his face slumped into concern, placing his hand on your arm. 

You immediately pulled away as Sam continued to look at you sympathetically. 

"I just wished you talked to me, that's all," You replied quietly.

"Yeah, well, I wished you talked to me too," Sam muttered in a voice so close to a whisper you almost couldn't hear. You decided to look back up at him. 

"That's what I'm trying to do, Sam," You told him just as softly as before, looking into his soft eyes. 

Sam gave you a small smile out of courtesy, and you could tell it was hurting him just as much as it was hurting you. 

"I just feel like you are avoiding me. Like you don't want to tell me what's going on in your life anymore." You admitted.

"What about you?" Sam scoffed and you raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, you don't talk to me about your life. Why should I?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

"I don't go to school anymore and I barely leave the motel. There's not much to say," You sighed, frowning at how his aggressive switch was flipping on and off with each comment. 

Sam didn't get upset with you often, but most of the time he was irrational and tended to say things that he didn't mean. 

"Just- just tell me about a book you've read recently," Sam struggled to get out and you shrugged your shoulders. 

"Um, okay. I read The Little Prince recently. The guy in the story crashed in the Sahara desert and-" You were quick to explain. 

"You told me about that book months ago, Y/N," Sam cut you off with hints of a low growl. You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to reach his eyes as they ran away from yours. 

You hadn't read it in a while, but, it was the most recent book you had read- that part was true. The truth about what had been preoccupying your past few months was a secret, a secret that John didn't want anybody to know about. 

For a second, you thought about telling the truth- maybe Sam would be happy to hear about it. Happy that John loved you so much. Happy that you weren't sitting at home miserable every day. 

Ultimately, you decided that you didn't want to upset your father. What if he stopped whatever it was that was going on between the two of you? That, in addition to Sam and Dean, was the only thing that ever made you truly happy around here, and you didn't want to take it for granted. 

"I, uh, I reread it. It's a great book," You lied, this time trying to look away without being too conspicuous. 

It hurt every part of you to lie to Sam like this, especially because you were lying about one of the most important things in your life.

You never lied to Sam, ever. When he didn't say anything back, it ate you completely. The guilt you felt was pounding in the back of your throat. It only took you a few moments of silence to realize that you couldn't take it anymore.

"Sammy, I'm- I'm lying to you." You told him, feeling a rush of relief flood your body as you looked down to the ground.

"I know, Y/N," Sam told you quietly and you nodded your head, the guilt vacuuming back into your body. 

This is why you shouldn't have lied to him in the first place. He knew you so well, too well to let anything slip by. 

"Do you want to tell me the truth?" He asked softly, bringing his fingertips to your chin so that you could look back up at him. 

You nodded your head, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as he looked at you with so much care- something you missed dearly from him. 

"I- I can't." You told him, jerking your head to look anywhere but at him. 

You loved Sam more than any person in the world, but this was something that you needed to keep from him.

"Because Dad said you can't?" Sam asked you and your eyes shot up to look at him, widened at full capacity. 

He knew. That's why he was so upset. That's why he didn't talk to you, why he closed himself off from everybody. But, why? Why did he seem so upset about it? If Sam knew, why hadn't he brought it up sooner?

"It's okay, Y/N, really. It's okay, you can tell me the truth." Sam told you, pulling you close as you frowned into his chest and began to let your mind run. 

What if John found out you told him? Would he not want anything to do with you anymore? Even though the shower was still running against the both of you, the only wetness you could feel were your tears. 

"He's going to hate me, Sammy," You told him, sniffling as you pulled back to look at him. His arms were lazily hung around your torso as he stared down at you with soft eyes. 

"Y/N, did he hurt you?" Sam asked softly, gripping your waist tightly and gently forcing you to keep focused on him. 

"What?" You asked, furrowing your brows as you noticed that Sam seemed to look sad. "No- no, he didn't hurt me. Why would he hurt me?" You questioned again and his grip loosened around you, looking just as confused as you did. "Are you upset?"

Sam took a few seconds to answer, head shaking a confused expression formed on his face. 

"I, uh, no- I'm not upset. I just thought-" He trailed, seeming to be at a loss for words. "I just thought he was hurting you."

"Daddy would never hurt me," You gave him a small grin, shaking your head at the silly comment. "Sammy, he's made me very happy." You purred, feeling his body tense as your fingers glided up and down his sides. 

It was a small chance that you took- if he wasn't upset... then maybe he was happy. Maybe he was just jealous this entire time.

•••

Next Part

[meganlpie]

Sleeping Knight...Of Hell?!

Based on this request: : Would it be possible to do a spn Cain x Winchester reader fluffy, where cain gets cursed by a witch well helping the Winchester take down a witch. Ends up getting sleeping beauty and won’t wake up in till the reader kisses him from @sirlsplayland

Here you are, lovely! I apologize for the wait! I do not own ANY SPN characters. They are the property of the creators/writers!

Warnings: Angst-ish? Sleeping Beauty AU. Fluff.

Pairings: Cain x Winchester!reader

Under normal circumstances, you and your brothers would not want to work with a demon, even Cain. No matter how kind and fair he could be. But with you currently unable to hunt and no one else available, your two brothers reached out to Cain. The demon seemed to have a soft spot for you so he agreed to help until another hunter became available.

       "You guys be careful. Call me if anything goes wrong. Broken arm or not, I will haul ass," you said as the boys and Cain prepared to leave. Dean rolled his eyes while Sam chuckled. You turned to Cain. "Same goes for you." His blue eyes didn't betray the surprise he felt at your words. He hadn't known his safety was so important to you. Cain gave a quick nod before all three headed out, leaving you alone and bored out of your mind.

       Your boredom didn't last long, however. Too soon, the boys reappeared in the bunker along with Cas and an unconscious Cain. "What happened to him?" you asked, worry creeping into your tone without your permission. "We think he was hit with a spell, but we don't know what and we can't wake him up," Sam explained. Dean nodded along with Sam. "Cas tried and we ganked the witch, but Cain's still not waking up. But he's breathing so I guess he's still alive. For now anyway."

       You helped your brothers get Cain to a bed in the infirmary before beginning the long and difficult task of research. All the while, in the back of your mind, you worried for Cain. What if he never woke up? For some reason, the very thought made your insides churn unpleasantly. You made it your sole mission to figure out a way to wake him and soon.

*time skip*

       Weeks. You lost count of how many weeks it had been since your brothers returned to the bunker with Cain. You'd tried everything you could possibly think of to wake him. You'd even called in Rowena, who offered to go through every spellbook she could to help. Mostly because she didn’t want to be on the bad side of the Knight of Hell should he wake and partly because you told her that you’d owe her. She was very much like her son in that way. And it was Rowena’s son who would crack the case wide open.

Crowley sat with you, your brothers, Cas, and Rowena as you explained to him what was happening. While Crowley didn’t care much for Cain, he did respect him. “So you’ve had no luck waking Sleeping Beauty.” Sam shook his head, but you stared at Crowley as if he’d just said the most brilliant thing of the century. 

“Rowena?” you asked after a moment, prompting the redhead to look at you. “Are there any spells that can copy fairytales? Like…a sleeping curse?” Rowena’s brows furrowed as she thought. “I suppose there might. After all, your human fairytales have a basis in fact. It’s quite possible, but if so, I’m afraid Cain is going to sleep forever, dearie. True love’s kiss doesn’t exist.” You nodded solemnly before standing and leaving the room. All you could think about was poor Cain being asleep until the end of time.

You weren’t paying attention to where you were walking and soon found yourself in the infirmary where Cain was. With a sigh, you pulled a chair up next to his cot and sat down. “I’m so sorry, Cain,” you said softly even though no one else was around, “If I hadn’t gotten hurt, you wouldn’t be in this mess. And I have no idea how to help you. Rowena thinks you’ll be stuck like this forever.” You reached over and took Cain’s hand, repeating how sorry you were. 

You remained like that until Sam appeared in the doorway to let you know they were heading out on a supply run. “Hang on, I need to come too. There are a few things I need.” Sam nodded and turned away before speaking over his shoulder, “Alright. We’ll meet you at the car.

Once Sam was gone, you glanced at Cain again. “Come back, Cain.” You stood and leaned over him. “Come back to me,” you whispered as you leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. You straightened up all the way. However, as you turned to leave, you felt something tugging on your hand. You looked down and were surprised to find Cain’s eyes open as he stared at you in amazement. “Cain,” you whispered, unable to fight back the sound of tears in your voice.

Cain slowly sat up, his blue eyes never leaving your face. “You…” he began, “You brought me back.” Your brows drew together and you started to shake your head, but Cain stopped you. “Yes you did. I heard everything. I was trapped in my own mind, unable to move or speak, but I heard it all. It was your determination, your kiss, your…love that woke me, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened. The idea you’d gotten from Crowley had been right. It was a sleeping curse. And just like the fairytales, it was true love’s kiss that broke the spell. But that meant-

“Cain? Only a kiss of true love could have worked, if my theory was right.” A brow rose on Cain’s forehead. “Yes,” he confirmed, “Ask the question that’s on the tip of your tongue, Y/N. You already know the answer. You only need to ask the right question.”

“Does this mean that you-that you love me?” A rare, soft smile made its way onto Cain’s lips. “And you love me.” You stared at him and he stared back, an amused smile still on his lips. For a while, neither of you said anything. But the silence was soon broken by Dean. “Hey, I thought you-” You looked back at Dean, whose mouth was open in surprise. “Sonovabitch,” he muttered before turning on his heel, probably on his way to tell Sam what was happening. When he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but laugh a bit. You looked back to Cain to find him still looking at you. His hand came up and rested on your cheek. “May I?” he asked, quietly. You swallowed thickly, but agreed. Cain’s lips met yours in a moment later in a soft, sweet kiss.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @esoltis280 @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

SPN Tags: @jotink78

[urne-buriall]

so I said there was one more spirit of the west alternate scene to go. this time we pose the question: "what if Cas wasn't away at the lawyers' after the final fight with John?"

John would look for him at Bobby’s or Ellen’s. He couldn’t bring them into his mess.

He had the option to pass through town or around it, but he didn’t want to attract attention. The Impala was a beautiful car, but everything that made it so distinct made it impossible to hide. He felt that just driving through with his broken window, even if all the others were rolled down, people would simply take one look and know. The evening deepened, but it wasn’t dark yet. They’d peer in the windows and they would see a battered boy, see the way Dean gripped the wheel to hold himself up when his whole back curved in a vain attempt to ease the horrible pain in his ribs.

It was tempting to go to the laundromat, to try finding Cas once more, but there was nowhere in town to conceal his car. Street parking only. He didn’t know if John would try to follow him now or later. Whatever happened, he couldn’t afford to be found out.

He didn’t even know if Cas was there. He hadn’t been this morning. He’d be so busy and he wouldn’t want Dean’s problems and...

No, that wasn’t it. That had never been it. Dean spent so long not wanting anyone to know, but he’d announced it for the first time to Kate, yesterday. That barrier had broken. The worst had happened. There was no point in trying to hide. This was the time it had to come out. What else could he do? What else could he lose? He’d lose Cas if he hid from him now.

Still, he had to get off the map  before he figured any of this out.

He took himself out of town. He didn’t have much money, didn’t want to spend the last of it on a motel room that would only grant him one or two nights of shelter. As darkness fell he pulled the car in at a truck stop favoured by long-haul drivers. There was a row of payphones along one wall. The one nearest the kiosk door was in use, so he took the furthest possible to avoid being overheard. He put a quarter in and dialled Cas’ number from memory.

It rang three times and Dean despaired, but before it could ring the fourth Cas picked it up.

“Hello?” He sounded tired. He was likely sick of phone calls. He didn’t like phones at the best of times, and Doc’s death compounded the amount of time spent answering calls.

“Cas, hey,” said Dean. “It’s me.”

“Dean.” His voice relaxed over the line. “Cesar said you were looking for me.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Same here,” said Cas. “I was wondering if I should call.”

“No,” said Dean, too quick. He cleared his throat briefly. “No, it’s. You can’t call the ranch for a while.”

“Oh.”

So much could be said about that ‘Oh.’ Dean closed his eyes. He should talk more, but his words were too thick in his throat. He closed his eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded his head first, even though it couldn't be seen. A tear slipped down from his closed eyes. He turned his body to angle away from the parking lot, bent towards the phone and the separating glass. “I just—” he said. Tried to get control of himself. He couldn’t confess to it all over the phone. That didn’t feel right. “I just had to leave there.”

“Where are you now?” It was a fast question, splitting down straight to the important elements without first asking why.

“Truck stop,” said Dean. “Thirty minutes out of town. I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Can you come here?” asked Cas.

“No, Cas,” said Dean. “I can’t be in town. Because the car… I mean, the— the gossip. People would know where I am.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Cas,” said Dean. By which he meant, he was not in current danger. Likely. If he was spotted crying to his boyfriend over a payphone at the edge of a truck stop, that might not be the case for long. He straightened up, although it strained his sore ribs again to do so. He wasn't sure how bad he looked yet. Sometimes it took a while before bruises found their colour.

“You want to stay somewhere out of town,��� Cas clarified, thinking out loud.

“I don’t have loads,” said Dean. “I thought maybe a motel, but that... that won’t work long.”

“Can you call me back in ten minutes?” Cas asked abruptly.

“What?”

“I have to ask someone something.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean didn’t want to hang up the phone. He didn't want to lose his connection to Cas. He was afraid he’d never get it back. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

“Ten,” Cas said again.

Dean checked his watch after he hung up so that he could be precise. He went back to his car, closing the door and looking over at the passenger seat covered in glass. The rock that John threw sat against the door. Part of Dean wanted to get rid of it, to pitch it into the pine forest that bordered the large parking lot, but part of him didn’t have the spirit. It reminded him of his father and of why he could never go back. A horrible talisman of what had just happened. It felt too powerful for him to mess with.

After ten minutes passed, he went back to his previous phone. He ignored a few looks from two truckers standing by the front end of an eighteen-wheeler. He was looked at sometimes. He knew his deficiencies. This time, he couldn’t tell if what they eyed were his injuries or his too-delicate features. He didn’t want to stay past this phone call, jumpy under the attention. He felt increasingly unwell. The sky was dark not just with encroaching night, but with rain clouds carried in by a cool wind.

“I have somewhere you can stay,” Cas said after he answered.

“You serious?”

“Missouri mentioned it to me at her barbeque. That she had a place a little quieter and out of town. She’d been renting it to a writer, but he left. I have a lease on the apartment, but I said I’d remember it. It’s still available. We can go there tonight.”

“We?”

“I— I won’t stay if you don’t want me to,” said Cas. “But I want to make sure you’re set up.”

“No, I want you to stay,” said Dean. “Just…” He didn’t want Cas to expect too much. He didn’t want to share the only thing he had to bring: the pain and the damage. “It’ll be good to see you. We’ll... We’ll talk when I get there.”

Cas gave him directions, said he’d be there before Dean. Dean pretended he didn’t see one of the truckers peel away from the cab to slowly make an approach. He got into the front seat and started up the car, feeling the eyes follow him as he drove away.

In the night, it was slow going to make out the roads, the varying turns. His muscles kept spasming as if they only now understood the pain. He felt ghastly and sick. He wanted to fall asleep. It took all his focus to keep his vision straight. He wanted to stop driving and rest instead.

Finally he reached the cottage with its open gate. He parked the car under a leanto, where he might avoid rain coming in the window. The motorbike rested there too.

Inviting light seeped around the curtains of the front windows. Dean opened the door to step in and Cas looked up from where he’d been unloading a paper bag of groceries.

The expression on his face changed. Dean knew what it meant. Knew how bad he must look. That distress as Cas swept forward from around the island to meet Dean at the door. When Cas hugged him it was fast but careful. An arm around behind his shoulder blades, one around his waist, close but not tight. Leaving it to Dean to lean his body in and grip Cas tightly in return. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, and his eyes felt hot again with unspent tears.

“I thought— You said you were okay,” said Cas.

That was all it took. Someone saying, definitively, that this was not okay. Dean shuddered with the first wave of tears, face bent into Cas' collar. And he was held, rocked, hair stroked until he’d collected himself enough for Cas to lead him to a couch and sit down with him. An arm still around him, encouraging him to stay close.

“What happened?” His voice was low as gravel, quietly encouraging.

“Sam left,” said Dean.

“Sam left,” Cas echoed.

“And I knew it was over. I told Adam’s mom what he’s like, and he found out.”

“He’s done this before,” said Cas.

“My whole life,” said Dean.

Cas let his hand stroke over Dean’s shoulder, a reassuring touch, thumb rubbing. He paused and looked over at where his hand rested, then down at Dean. “You never fell off Jagger.”

Dean shook his head. “Bad fight. Went down the stairs.”

Cas slid his hand back across Dean’s shoulders, then gently lifted it to Dean’s face. His thumb traced outside the edge of a bruise. “Where else are you hurt?” he asked.

Dean gestured  at his ribs. Cas helped him out of his flannel shirt, lifted off his t-shirt to check on the bruises.

“Lie back,” Cas said as he stood. “I’ll get you some ice to help the swelling.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Dean, and Cas stopped. He looked at him steadily, and even though his expression hadn’t changed there was something about that look, that suspended moment. Dean wiggled his way to lie down against the couch.

“Please let me look after you,” said Cas. And Dean nodded his head.

No one had taken care of him before. He’d hidden every hurt. Even from the person who caused them, never letting on to John the consequences of the pain he caused because it would only inflame his anger all over again and make him despise Dean more than he already did. For being weak, for being useless, for accusing John of bad conduct by holding his own actions up to him. Dean had spared everyone but himself from witnessing the reality of his distress.

Cas came with painkillers and a glass of water. He had Dean hold an icepack wrapped in a tea towel to his cheek and Cas iced the worst parts on his ribs. The throbbing pain abated some under these two influences. Meanwhile, Cas returned to the kitchen to make up a can of vegetable soup and buttered toast. While he found the pots and plates in the kitchen, Dean’s eyes danced around the ceiling of the cottage, then took in the furniture.

“This place reminds me of somewhere,” he commented, the first words he’d spoken in some time.

“Where?” Cas asked.

Dean tried to place it, thinking of any guest house he might’ve stayed at while travelling for events, but his mind came up with nothing. John favoured cheap motels when they weren’t at the farm, and with so many horses to look after they didn’t leave it often.

“I can’t remember,” said Dean.

Outside, the rain picked up, sounding against the cottage roof and hushening the rest of the world. Cas looked up from scraping butter across toast and said, “I’m glad you’re not out in that.”

That night Cas stayed with him, sharing the bed in the cottage’s pale blue bedroom, a white afghan draped only up to their waists in the warm night. One side hurt less to sleep on than the other, so Dean slept facing Cas, their arms and knees intertwined. Cas’ soft, even breaths did more for Dean’s peace of mind than anything else could’ve.

Still, he had a dream that didn’t seem like a dream. Watching his mother move through this cottage, her blond hair loosely braided, setting Sam down in a white wicker bassinet while Dean, just four years old, leaned over with her to make sure that Sam was okay, and to be there if his mom needed anything, like the hug she then wrapped Dean up in, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead.

He woke from the dream with an aching mix of feelings. Confusion and tenderness and a wish that he could’ve known how to make things right. In the moonlight he took in Cas’ sleeping face. Those dark eyelashes against his cheeks, his lips faintly parted. It struck him in a way that he hadn’t quite understood before that this was right. This was where he was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be with. This was the beginning of the life he wanted to have. The love he wanted to have. This was the choice he got to make.

It wasn’t about that final fight. It wasn’t about the fear of John or the feeling that he couldn’t return home. Dean wasn’t accepting whatever fate handed him: he was choosing this. He would choose a life with Cas, whatever that future might look like. He would choose someone who could heal rather than hurt. Who didn’t need to offer anything other than a lifetime of love and regard. Who believed in Dean and saw him as the person Dean wished himself to be. The person he could be with Cas’ love.

He fell asleep again with more love swelling his heart than he had ever known. This night had set him free.

[rewatching-sam-and-dean]

even as someone who does not ship the brothers (or deancas), i feel that there is no denying the heavy handed undertones of romance between them, and the writers' very intentional and frequent exploration into incestual themes, if one is truly understanding the show. however, it's also my understanding that a lot of hellers/deancas people/whomever use a frustrating argument that "sam doesn't really know dean" when in reality, he will always know dean better than cas. thats the whole point of the show. when dean and sam 'betray' each other from the other's persepctive, the person doing the betraying genuinely believes they are acting in the other's best interest, whereas with dean and cas it's always for personal benefit.

to stop the rambling, i wanted to ask, purely in interest of seeing multiple sides: if so many hellers were not so anti-sam and did not project so much onto castiel, do you think the fandom at large (outside of that group) would have less of an issue with the ship? again, i am genuinely curious and you seem both well established in the fandom and well versed in the show itself. i feel as though where other shows do have beef between shippers and such, the supernatural fandom is watching two completely different shows and so many of them are bypassing crucial parts.

Hey Anon!

I don’t ship Wincest either (though most Wincesties I know are cool), and I REALLY don’t ship Destiel. But, I do joke about brother husbands a lot and love the brothers’ codependency. Still, I don’t think the writers are actually ever suggesting there are true romantic feelings to Sam and Dean’s relationship. Or maybe I should say, I don’t think canon (or subtext) Sam and Dean are actually (even secretly) hot for their brother. However, I think the romantic parallels and even outright nods to incest are very deliberate (and obvious). Partly, it’s on brand for the horror/gothic genre of the early seasons, but it also serves the purpose of highlighting how important Sam and Dean are to each other. They are each other’s soulmate, life-partner, and number one, which are usually roles reserved for couples. Also, I think the show just likes to make jokes as well. It’s clearly deliberate when the show goes from having characters assume they are couples, to villains making incesty remarks about them, to Dean asking if Sam wants a divorce.

I agree that Sam knows Dean better than Castiel, or anyone else. And Dean knows Sam best. That being said, they don’t understand each other perfectly, and they speak “different languages” in terms of showing care a lot of the time. Sometimes this is works in a complimentary way that has them in sync (Dean loves his family, especially Sam most, and Sam needs to be Dean’s number one), and sometimes it causes friction between the brothers (Dean letting Gadreel inside Sam or Sam trying to cure MOC). But, I agree that MOST of the time when they “betray” each other it’s when they are trying to help each other, or at least it’s a byproduct of something they feel they need to do. They never treat each other as expendable. And I also agree that betrayals between Dean and Castiel just hit different. I think this is because 1) they don’t have the same obsessive love underlying everything they do to/for each other (despite what hellers think), 2) they are more brothers-in-arms than true adopted famoly until later seasons 3) Castiel is not human, and I believe that Dean (however subconsciously) treats him differently because of that, and Cass not being human also changes his view of the fallout his actions will have with the people he cares about, and 4) I agree that they both betray each other out of personal interest in thst they value other things/people more highly than each other quite often (Dean will always value Sam above all, and Castiel often values whatever mission he is on above the brothers or is at least willing to risk them for it to an extent).

Feel free to ramble in my asks whenever you like. Clearly, I do it too, so no judgement here.

My short answer to your question is … yes. If hellers didn’t hate on Sam in a transparent attempt to make him seem less important both to Dean and to the show in general, I doubt Sam girls would care that people shipped Castiel and Dean. It’s the attempt at twisting canon and down-playing Sam that is frustrating. And yes, the projecting added significance onto Castiel is massively annoying because it shows a lack of understanding of the show, whether purposeful or due to ignorance. And that annoys everyone who cares about the “fscts” of the show. It’s also their insistence that Dean is bi … because reasons (often offensive, stupid and/or steryotical) that annoys the people who actually enjoy Dean’s true chracter, not the fan-fic woobifued version of him that hellers (and some AAs) fawn over. But, I think what pisses the fandom at large off the most about hellers is their insistence that they get their way and the tantrums they throw about being “robbed” when a ship that was clearly never going to sail in the show continued not to happen. More specifically, their need to hate on actual actors, writers, producers, networks and other so called “homophobic” fans who don’t agree with them is abhorrent to many.

I agree with your final sentiment completely. It is like Supernatural is at least two totally different shows, depending on which type of fan you are talking to. I mean, there are arguably more than two versions of the show in collective fans’ minds, if we consider which of the brothers a group sympathizes with most and how they interpret the chracters’ actions (Sam is a whiny brat … Dean is an abusive monster 🙄). But, out of all the fan groups, there is only one who seems to be "watching" a piece of media that does not even resemble the actual show … and it’s hellers.

And to be clear, I’m not talking about Destiel shippers in general here, but hellers in particular. No one I know, including me, cares if people ship Dean and Castiel for their own enjoyment, but it’s the insistence they are right and attempted rewriting of canon (and threatening real people) that makes people ragey.

Anyway, thank you for your ask. I’m sorry my reply was so long. (This is likely one of the reasons I don’t get a ton of asks, lol).

[thenameisgul]

The thing with Castiel is that he had a lot of storylines that had potential to develop, but were cut short for whatever reason I don't understand: like Godtiel, humancas. For example, with humancas, an entire season could be devoted to exploiting that, it could be a separate storyline unrelated to Sam or Dean, he could meet other angels and have to solve problems himself. etc. But no, they abandoned it after a few episodes, for what? to make Dean not look like an asshole for abandoning Cas when he was most vulnerable, so as not to divert the audience's attention away from two brothers? I have a feeling the writers kept Cas/Misha around because of his popularity with fans, but never gave him the status he deserved for a character with so much potential and importance to the story line. I'm only in ss10 and heard that Cas is treated even worse in the later seasons, I don't know if I should continue watching or not.

if there's one thing I realized pretty early on when I was finally watching season 7 after a decade long break, was that in the Supernatural universe, there was no other character that was as interesting and multifaceted as Castiel.

The second thing I realized was that it was not a very good thing for the showrunners to have a supporting character be like that when your entire show revolves around two brothers.

The reason they killed off Castiel in early season 7 was because they wanted the show to go back to being about Sam and Dean and with Apocalypse over, they didn't know what to do with Castiel. But clearly, he was too popular and they brought him back because the network itself told them to bring him back.

Now, a good writer would've been able to find a balance to keep Cas' story relevant and entangled with the Winchesters, as they did in season 6 but with Kripke leaving the show and new management in the writer's room, that didn't happen.

I almost, almost get it? Like, you have your story, you have your lead characters and people love them but suddenly you bring a supporting character who becomes an instant fan favorite, who's, debatably, a lot more interesting because of the history you gave him but never intended to explore and now he's sticking around so you just don't know what to do to make him not take over the narrative? You make him weak.

Cas couldn't have stayed the badass, powerful angel who's lived for a millennia because then that'll require the show to have villians even more powerful than that to be any competition and that leaves the Winchesters irrelevant.

So they tamed him down alot, which in itself wouldn't have been such a bad thing, especially if they went with the human!cas arc for longer like you said but to do that would've meant they couldn't use Cas as an easy way out of all winchester's problems and they needed that too so 🤷‍♀️

My main problem with all of that, mostly comes from the fact that, and I may be wrong here, but it seemed like the writers actively resented misha/castiel for being popular. Like he was, in misha's words "a foil to the boys" and while the writers couldn't let him go because the show would lose ratings, they actively diminished him. The random demeaning comments about Castiel from other characters, especially, from dean seemed a little too pointed. Not to mention how the producers actually publicly said 'misha wasnt a good actor' when he's literally one of the best actors on the show!

So yeah, if supernatural had better writers, or atleast if they kept hold of the good ones (because there were some good ones) they could've given Cas and the show a better story.

I hate to say it but they did it to Sam too. Sam was such an complex character but they just stopped trying after a while with his character. So I guess it was a theme with these writers.

And as a Castiel fan, its frustrating, I gotta say that. But you know what the best part is? that no matter what they did, how dumb the storyline they gave him he still came out as the most interesting character every time. So there you go.

So I'd say watch the show, its really good when it gets good or maybe just open Misha's page on Supernatural wiki and only watch his episodes if that's your thing because tbh, you wouldn't miss much if you left the rest. lol

[girls-alias]

Loss - Dean Winchester

Title: Loss - Dean Winchester Words: 869 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW:

Prompt:

Dean being depressed and drinking a lot ever since you died.

DEAN'S POV:

Alcohol helped. The taste was soon like water and slipped down my throat easily. It hurt less when I was too drunk to think. 

I ignored Sam's disapproving looks every day but they all seemed to fade into one. The longest day of my life. I lived with pain but this was death. I felt as though death had a hold of my insides and was pulling important organs out of my mouth. The alcohol numbs the pain. That's all I need. 

I don't need someone to be sympathetic, I don't even need to kill monsters. I have to kill my thoughts, every second I don't have a drink in my hand I think of her. Sam was shouting at something recently. Said it had been 6 months but just yesterday I was holding her. Just yesterday I was kissing her, laughing with her. I had her. 

I know alcohol wears off but so does pain. If I numb it for long enough I won't have to feel it, not now, not ever. 

I saw my whiskey bottle coming to an end and stumbled towards the kitchen, I had no idea the time of day or even the season. I fought to keep my eyes open as I stammered around. More drink is all I need! I finally made it to the kitchen. No beer, no whiskey, nothing. Either I had drank it all or Sam is hiding it. I groaned and threw my now empty bottle across the room. I have to have more, I can't feel this pain, I can't. 

I continued to stammer around until Sam blocked the door with his body, looking at me disapprovingly and sympathetically. How does anyone like him, I have no idea? 

"Move," I said plainly already trying to pass him. He thought for a second before moving aside yet following me. I grabbed the keys from the table, hoping he hadn't noticed. 

"You can't go out driving in this state," He demanded only making me scoff. I was surprised when he ripped the keys from my grasp. Alcohol was slowing my reflex speeds.

"Give them back!" I shouted but he didn't take my slurred words seriously. 

"You'll die if you drive," He commented and I felt myself sobering up from the rage coursing through my blood. He thinks I'm afraid of death. He thinks I haven't been begging for someone to come and kill me. Hell, I've called demons plenty of times giving them the full opportunity to kill me. I have handed them guns, knives, even chainsaws and no one will kill me.

"Give me the keys, dumbass," I demanded but Sam was childlike and threw them down the hallway. I groaned and started making my way towards them. He followed me closely rambling my ear. I ignored every word until he said it. "Don't you dare say her name!" I screamed now facing him, my hands clenched into fists. He looked horrified but softened his face as he sighed. 

"She wouldn't want you to do this," He said softly as if I was about to attack. If he keeps talking I will. I will do everything I have begged others to do for me.

"How would you know what she wants?! When did you stay up with her all night when she was in pain? When did you think she was the one for you? When did you think your luck had finally changed?" I paused as the anger took over. "Where were you when she had cramps and needed a hand to hold? Where were you when she promised she'd always love me? Where were you when she was bleeding out and needed you?" I screamed out not caring for his puppy eyes. "Where were you, Sam? I had to hold her, I had to watch her die in my arms because you weren't there. Where were you?" I screamed, my throat instantly sore. He looked startled by my words. I blamed Sam to some extent but I knew it was my fault. It was my fault I loved her, I should have known I would have gotten her killed. I scoffed. "You wouldn't know what she'd want if she was still here telling you, you didn't know her and you never will. She was the love of my life and now what kind of life do I have? It's cold and pointless. The alcohol numbs the pain but what do you know of real pain? You've forgotten Jess, I will never forget my true Y/N. You can either stand beside me or get out of my fucking way!" I gasped slightly realising that after all this time I had finally said her name. My eyes instantly burned as tears collected in them. 

I sobbed, falling to the floor. I gripped at my jumped begging it would swallow me. Sam hurried to me, hugging me tightly as I cried. My breath caught in my throat. I screamed letting out the sobs that collected in my chest. Sam jumped but held on a little tighter. After a while, he stopped jumping when I screamed. He held me, he never let go. 

I need my baby but she's gone. 

[yandere-fics]

Pauline Rhune

♡ "My parents invited us to the villa tonight, you better show up or I'll like kick your ass, or something like that." ♡

She's sort of a tsundere yandere, she expects you to be able to just know that dumbass is a term of endearment for her. You might occasionally get her to be honest with her feelings on late nights when she's tired but for the most part you won't get a crumb out of her. She's very sadistic to anyone who she perceives as a threat to your relationship and unlike the others she'll also punish you for not picking better company. Never anything too severe but if you really push it then you'll remember how much of a bully Pauline can be.

♡ "Idiot can't even remember my name. Like do I have to spell it out for you? P-a-u-l-i-n-e R-h-u-n-e. We're literally like the biggest family in the academia." ♡

The Rhunes run the magic academy in the kingdom though Pauline herself can't use normal magic. The Rhune's became embroiled in the academy when their distant ancestor began to study why Rhune's tend to be extremely possessive of their lovers, more so than most in the kingdom normally are. Pauline's field of study is curses, which is the only thing she can cast primarily.

♡ "I'm 26 you freak, god why can't you remember anything today? Do you need your head checked or something?" ♡

She was supposed to get her title and inheritance at 22 but she never met her darling so her parents refused to give it until they were sure she was ready for it so she needs a darling to prove she's ready for the responsibility. She's also very worried that you keep asking things about her, she wants you to be able to remember everything about her cause you're important to her.

♡ "Women if it isn't already obvious, idiot." ♡

She's a lesbian also she would flick you on the forehead for asking when you should know she likes you.

♡ "Ugh you keep asking dumb shit today. I have no job currently cause my family won't like give over my title already, you should know this, dumb dumb." ♡

At the current moment she can only study at the magic academy but once she gets her title she'll likely be an assistant royal mage or perhaps dean of the academy, really whatever life style suits her and her darling more at that point in time.

♡ "I uhm oh- you like actually want to know what things I like? Well I'm like major into curses and shit like that, y'know. I also, likeyourdumbface. Don't ask me to repeat what I said again." ♡

She's extremely diligent with her job which is why she's desperate for the title so she can begin the next step in her studies. She also really enjoys bullying people, even her own darling is not safe from this.

♡ "You're really talkative today, is this gonna be like a permanent thing? You're sort of giving me a major headache. If you have to know, I hate losers." ♡

Don't worry she doesn't think of you as a loser and she loves hearing you speak. She isn't a fan of people since compared to her most of them are losers who are fine coasting by off of their nobility instead of using their nobility to actually do something cool. She's not a fan of clerics since they can dispell her curses and usually she gets reprimanded for cursing someone if they find out. It's not a harsh sentence but she still feels like she should be able to curse whoever she wants.

♡ "I'm like pretty smart if that's what you're asking? I mean shouldn't it be obvious that I'm brimming with talents? There's no need to ask what I'm good at since I'm totally amazing anyways." ♡

She's very talented at cursing people and convincing people to be her lackeys. She knows how to find the right person for the right task which is how she found you to pretend to be her darling in front of her family, unfortunately for her she was too good at finding a fake darling since the fake became real quickly.

♡ "Come on, we've been meandering too long, they'll be like totally pissed if you keep them waiting any longer." ♡

[holylulusworld]

Sweet Home Lawrence

Summary: You come back to your hometown.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, past rejection, past unrequited feelings, a/b/o, a/b/o/pack dynamics, best friends brother trope, idiots in love, age gap (4 years), implied claiming/mating

A/N: This story belongs to my pack collection.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

 Weird. Confusing. Scary as hell.

Coming back home after what feels like a whole lifetime is a step back to you. You didn’t make it in the big and busy town. At least not for long.

“Y/N, Y/L/N! Oh my god! You are back?” Damnit, out of all the people Mary Winchester is the one to spot you first the moment you set one foot out of your luxurious car. The one you bought when times were still better for you.

“Mrs. Winchester,” you give her a friendly smile, but wish that she leaves you alone. It’s not that you don’t like her. No. She always was nothing but kind to you. “How have you been?”

“I should ask you the same,” she smiles wildly and wraps you in a hug. “Look at you, you’ve grown even more beautiful.”

You want to protest. In your mind, you’ve never been pretty, not even close. Or else…

“Just look at you, Mrs. Winchester. You haven’t changed at all.”

It’s true. She has some lines on her forehead and fine wrinkles around her eyes, but she’s still the beautiful woman you admired when you were just a teen.

“Now you are flattering me, Y/N,” she tuts. “So, does Sammy already know you are back in town? How about Dean?”

“Sam knows,” you bite your tongue, not wanting Mary to know that you will do anything to avoid seeing Dean Winchester again. “Dean and I didn’t stay in contact, though. I don’t think he’ll even remember his brother’s friend.”

She gasps. “But you were so close back then,” Mary wonders aloud. “I know Dean was elder, but you got along so well. Everyone was rooting for you. The pack was rooting for you.”

“I-what?” you laugh bitterly. “Dean didn’t even give me a second glance. He was all over other omegas all the damn time. He never was interested in me, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Oh-I didn’t know any of this,” she says. “I’m sorry for bringing Dean up. But Sammy will be happy to see you again.”

“I’ll make sure to give him a call,” you weakly reply. The truth is, to avoid meeting Dean, you’ll stay away from Sam too. Even if he didn’t do anything wrong, he’s still Dean’s brother. “I need to get to the house. My uncle said it needs some reparations. I got to check on the list he made.”

“Of course, my dear,” she hugs you again and pats your back. “It was good seeing you again. I hope you didn’t forget that you are always welcome at our home. Come over any time.”

She finally leaves you alone and you can breathe again.

Like hell. You won’t go anywhere near their house. Dean Winchester always had the talent to pop up out of nowhere. You’ll not give him the chance to take you by surprise.

“Electricity is already fixed, heating too,” you sigh. Relived. Your uncle already took care of the most important things. “Wallpapers, floor, new painting. That’s manageable. My furniture will be here soon.”

You look the list up and down. It’s been a while since you moved, and it feels odd being home again.

It doesn’t feel like back then when your parents were still around, and you didn’t care about the future.

Now it is different. Years wasted on a dream you couldn’t reach. Or you did, but not for long.

Like with everything good in your life, your career ended in a mess too.

Engrossed in the to-do list your uncle left on the old kitchen table, you barely hear someone knock at your door.

You get up to open the door, if not, they won’t go away.

“Hello,” you sigh. Someone must’ve told Sam that you are already back. And it certainly wasn’t you. “Sweetheart?”

You open the door, heart dropping to your feet as the wrong brother stands in front of your door. A shudder runs through your body and you instinctively tilt your head in submission as the alpha steps closer.

You can smell it. He’s the new alpha of the pack. The leader.

Why did Sammy not tell you so? You would’ve avoided coming back to Lawrence if only you knew Dean will be the one dictating your life from now on.

“What are you doing here, Dean? I’m barely back in town,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. It’s bad to mess with the leader.

“Mother said you are back,” he shrugs as you look up at him. “I wanted to come over and say ‘hi. I live over there now.”

He points at the house across the street.

Fuck. No. Dean lives right across the street. He’s the new owner of the large house you always admired. The one with the beautiful backyard and winter garden.

“Uh-hi. As you can see, I’m busy checking on the house,” you wave the list in front of his face. “Can we talk about the rules of the pack later? I’m rather tired.”

“I didn’t want to talk about the rules of the pack.”

“What else do you want to talk about, Dean?” you’re confused about his behavior. He gets a collar out of the pocket of his coat, holding it in front of your face. “I don’t understand.”

“I came here to talk about us, not the rules,” he steps into your personal space and opens the collar. You’re staring at the DW tangling from the collar as he tries to put it around your neck.

“What the fuck!” you push him away, making the alpha growl. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just put a collar around my neck.”

“But we promised each other to mate. I want to make you my omega,” he looks confused and hurt. “Y/N. Sweethart…”

“You want what? Mate me? After you rejected me years ago,” you whimper at the memory. “My family and I had to leave town and the pack. I wanted you to be my alpha and to give me your mark. But you rejected me and paraded around town with Lisa Braeden the other day. I won’t have you anywhere near me.”

“You were only eighteen, Y/N!” he argues, nostrils flaring now. “I was elder. Four years elder. I couldn’t claim you. It would’ve been against our rules. I have always wanted you, but you were so much younger and…Lisa was a distraction, nothing else.”

“My parents mated at the age of sixteen!” you snap at Dean. “This had nothing to do with my age. You only wanted to fuck as many omegas as possible. And look where it got you. A loner without a mate or pups.”

“Y/N, they were both sixteen when they mated,” Dean bites back. He’s hurting as much as you do. “Don’t argue with me, omega. I talked about it with my father and he—”

You whine. “No, you didn’t,” you sniffle now. “How dare you tell John about this…us…I wanted to be yours. But after you had what you wanted, you lost interest…”

“Enough of this,” the alpha cuts you off. “I had to stay away from you. My father said I must wait until we are both more…mature. How should I have known that you and your family will leave town in the middle of the night?”

“I told Sammy where we are going!”

“My father wouldn’t let me leave town,” Dean’s voice grows louder now, making you flinch. He growls and snarl while holding the collar in a tight grip. “The pack decided that I cannot leave until you turn twenty-one. And then…one of the omegas said the kid is my kid. I spent months proving that I didn’t knock her up.”

“You never called, or wrote a letter,” you drop your gaze and shake your head. “You forgot about me as you never wanted me.”

“That’s not true!” he growls loudly. “After the girl admitted the kid isn’t mine, my father got sick…like really sick. I had to help him with the pack. And then, when he got a little better, Sammy said you are about to mate with some other alpha.”

“I never…” you shake your head. “I had a few dates with that guy. He didn’t even get to second base…”

“Sammy lied?” Dean questions.

“Sammy got it wrong,” huffing you look at the collar dangling from his fingers. “Maybe I didn’t correct him.”

“The moment Sammy said you are going to come back, unmated,” Dean purrs low in his throat and steps closer; if that’s even possible,” I looked for the collar and waited…and waited. My heart did somersaults when mom called me this morning.”

“She ratted me out?”

“I would’ve come around earlier, but I bought a new flannel and got you flowers,” he drops his eyes to the collar in his hands. “Fuck. No! I forgot the flowers at home. Wait! I’ll get them for you.”

“Dean…what are we doing here?” you shake your head. “It’s been years. We both changed, and moved on.”

“You’re unclaimed, and I don’t have a mate,” he clears his throat. “Y/N Y/L/N. Omega. I’m here to announce that I’m officially courting you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I don’t care,” he looks you up and down. “Father is no longer the leader of this pack. I’m the leader and decided you are going to become my omega. Period.”

“You’re a cocky sonofabitch,” you grin as he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his chest. “I won’t forgive you so easily.”

“I’m gonna make you forgive me really quick,” he dips his head to press a soft kiss on your lips. “I always knew how to make you forgive me for being stupid. Why don’t you invite me in and we can talk about me being stupid.”

“You’re stupid, that’s true.”

“You can be stupid with me,” he murmurs against your lips. “For the rest of your life.”

“I can be with stupid for the rest of your life,” you grin against his lips. “Don’t you remember? You’re so much elder.”

He grunts.

“Let me inside. I wanna have a look around your house again.”

“Again?” you furrow your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh—uh…your uncle asked me for help. He didn’t have the time to have a look at your house. I made sure the electricity and heating get fixed. I can’t let my omega freeze, right?”

“You could’ve just invited me over,” he hums thoughtfully. “Imagine, a freezing omega, alone in the dark. A strong alpha, who comes to my aid. You missed an opportunity there, Winchester.”

“How about you come to my home tonight? I know you only got a few things with you.”

“Your mother did spy on me, huh?”

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles while brushing his lips over yours again, “come with me. Please. I don’t want to be away from you for another minute. I almost passed out when Sammy said you will come back. I thought that I lost you forever, but here you are.”

“I let him believe that I’m still dating that alpha,” you shrug. “Maybe I didn’t want people to believe that I can’t find an alpha wanting to stick around.”

“I want to stick around,” he nips at your lips. “Please let me stick around.”

“If you order food, I’ll stay at your place for tonight,” you give in, just a little. “But no funny business, Sir. I haven’t seen you for a lifetime…”

Hours later Dean lies wide awake with you in his arms. You’re not wearing the collar, but his mark.

It all happened so fast it appears to be a dream. He can’t believe you ended up mating.

“Warm,” you mumble rubbing your cheek into his chest. “Tired.”

“I know,” he softly kisses your hair. Dean’s heart swells as he knows, you feel safe and comfortable in his arms. Even after all those years, you belong to him. “The pack will get mad.”

“Hmm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you give in to your instinct and the warm feeling spreading through your body. “Dean.”

“It’s alright. They will understand that their leader needed his omega,” Dean whispers as you drift into sleep. “No one will part us ever again…no one…”

Tags in reblog.

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 5

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.6 k 

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Let’s learn more about reader, shall we? No Winchesters in this chapter, sorry guys!

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

Life was running its course as usual. Well, as usual as it could when you were a hunter. Your family didn’t quite know about this new career of yours. Except for your brother. To the other members of your family, you were travelling the roads of the states, doing odd jobs. You never went into specifics; they didn’t need to know everything.

Your father thought you were wasting your time, seeing as you weren’t making a lot of money. And it was true, being a hunter wasn’t always rewarding—financially. But money didn’t really matter to you. Helping people was far more important than anything else in your eyes. Also, it was reward enough to finally do something you chose for yourself.

Graduating high school, going to college, had all been for your father. You were the eldest and the first one to go to college, your father was proud of that. He had told you that much. You were going to set an example for your younger siblings. A good example they were supposed to follow. But none of them had. And they were still successful, while you had been stuck doing something that had made you miserable.

You graduated, of course, you had put in the work. And you may have gone to a community college but your degree was worth the same as one you may have gained from Yale or Stanford. People tend to look down on people who went to community college. As though your education had less value because you didn’t pay 30k or more to get into college. Of course, Community college didn’t have the same facilities as a prestigious one but you were still getting a good education. One that had the same value that one could receive in those high paid colleges.

College had offered you some time away from the chaos that was your home life. But it had also further strained your relationship with your siblings. And from that point forward there were no going back to the way things were before that.

“Dad, I’m trying to help here.” You sighed, frustration slowly rising in your chest.

“Help? How am I supposed to pay for this?” Your father shot back. “I don’t have 300 bucks laying around.”

It was a lie. He had the money; he just didn’t want to use it. His door had broken due to poor maintenance on his part. It needed to be fixed. You had found the people to fix it. It was, in your opinion, for a good price. But for him it was too expensive. He wanted things done for him without having to pay for anything. He even looked at you, asking you if you had the money to pay for it.

“Then, leave it open.” You snapped.

“Mind your tone with me.” He said in a warning tone.

“Oh, I am, trust me.” You replied. “You don’t want to fix it, and you don’t want to leave it open. So, what do you want to do?”

“So, I should just pay the guy?”

“YES!” Your hand slammed on the counter in your outburst. You took a deep breath. You needed to get out of this house before it escalated into something far bigger. “It’s either you pay the guy and he fixes your door. Or you don’t and your door stays open for strangers to waltz in. Your choice.”

You left after that. You knew your father, he was going to fight you on this, grumbling for hours, fight some more and then simply agreed to it. Walking away was the best decision, it saved you from the unnecessary headaches.

Dealing with your parents was unpleasant to say the least. Your siblings had limited their contacts with them and you were the only one who still had a relationship with them. Although, at times like this, you still wondered why. One could say; “Well, it’s family.” However, family wasn’t everything. Family didn’t excuse everything. Not to you anyway. Not anymore

Thankfully, Garth needed your assistance on a hunt. You were more than happy to help him. Especially, if this hunt was taking you away from your infuriating ways. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be working with Garth on this one. It was a fellow hunter that required assistance. A fellow hunter, you’d rather avoided. For as long as you could.

His name was Andy. Tall, freckled face, blonde hair, a really handsome fella. You two had met on a hunt and hit it off pretty quickly. It was nothing more than a fling. Or so, you thought. You weren’t looking for anything serious. But it had become so. He was a good guy and had treated you well. And yet, things between had ended in a somewhat sour note.  

“Hey, pretty girl.” He greeted you as you sat across the booth from him.

“Hey, Andy.” You greeted him back.

“You’re looking real good.” He smirked leaning across the table. “Are those new jeans?”

“Andy—” You sighed tiredly. “I’m not here for that. You said you needed help.”

He put his hands up, and he leaned back. “Business as usual.”

You scoffed. “So, what is this about?”

There was nothing the two of you couldn’t do together, Andy had told you, once upon a time. When the two of you were hunting together. Before there were feelings involved. Before it had gotten messy. You worked well together, you always had. But things between you had gotten complicated. And you decided to just walk away. It was easier this way.

The hunt had gone fairly quickly. Nothing any of you had not faced before. He was sitting in your motel room, shirtless while you patched him up. He let out a hiss as you pierced his skin with the needle.

“Sorry,” you quietly said. You worked in silence, piercing his skin with the needle and thread, sewing his skin back together. You were focused on making sure the stitches weren’t too tight.

“Where did you go?” Andy asked you suddenly.

You paused, glancing up at him. “What?”

“When you left, where did you go?”

You let out a deep breath, “as far away as I could.”

“Was I so bad you had to run away?” He scoffed.

“No. If anything you were—you are one of the good ones.” You reassured him. “I’m not.” You paused, resuming the stitching. “I thought it better to run away to save you from me. I would have hurt you.”

“Bullshit.” He snorted, you frowned.

“So, you know better than I do?”

“In fact, I do.” Andy reached for your hands, stopping their movements. “You got scared because of what you were feeling. And instead of trying to find out if I was feeling the same, you ran away. It was easier than rejection.”

Way to call you the fuck out? You remained quiet and pulled your hands away and finished stitching him up. Could he really blame you for this? He knew the kind of home you grew up in. He knew what sort of childhood you had. You told yourself you wouldn’t walk away from him. You liked him a lot, he made you feel good, put a smile on your face. He made you happy and that terrified you. So much so, you simply walked away from him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you by leaving.” You apologized softly, without looking at him. “You deserved better.”

“So did you.” He got up from his seat, he put his shirt back on and you turned to him. He had a soft and sad look on his face.

“I left you.” You reminded him.

“I know.” He stepped closer to you; his hand came to rest on your shoulder. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your temple. “Still, you deserved better too.” Andy grabbed his coat before going for the door. He turned to you, “see you around beautiful.”

“See you around handsome.” You smiled back and watched him leave.

Your throat clogged up; your eyes welled up with tears. Regrets clawing at your chest. Every single time, you let yourself have feelings for someone, you enjoyed the relationship and then—you get cold feet, you get scared and you ran away from them. Why couldn’t you just let yourself be happy? Why did you have to go and ruin everything?

And what you hated the most was the fact that he didn’t hate you. It would have been easier if he had been mad. If he had told you how horrible you made him feel. It would have felt better if he had told you he would never forgive you for hurting him the way you did. If he simply hated you as he should have. But none of that happened and it made you feel utterly horrible for the way you ended things.

Andy deserved better from you. Much better.

Your siblings were raised the same way you were and yet, they were happily married with kids. And you just couldn’t understand why it was not happening for you. Why were you so afraid and why were they not? Maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe you were more broken than the rest of them. Maybe, you were broken in ways they were not.

Or maybe— maybe, you weren’t simply made for love. Or at least, there was no one in this world that you could love, or that could love you. In some toxic and twisted part of your brain, you had wanted for Andy to come after you, to fight you on this. You had expected a text or a call, for him to ask you what was going on. But none came, you left and he had accepted it. Even now, he did not fight you back on this. But he did not.

You weren’t good enough for your parents and you weren’t good enough for your siblings. Why would you be good enough for Andy? Why would he want to fight for someone like you? When even your parents did not care to do so.

You weren’t good enough.

You never had been.

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[misguidedasgardian]

From the Ashes (III)

III. Doctor's In

MASTERLIST

Summary: Sometimes, the worst monsters are real people 

Warnings: Supernatural (and all that comes with it), monsters of all kinds, pyrokinesis, cursing, murder, impersonating of law enforcers, guns, knifes, guts, hearts, eyeballs, frankenstein doc, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 2,9 k

Notes: Let’s kept this party going, like SPN, this will be like short chapters, with plot of course, and a story that progresses along.

“You still keep that?”, asked Dean, you giggled

“Of course I do”, you had a map, a big map, those for tourist, of all the united states, in it, you were marking the places you had been, because, as hunters, you should never “repeat the treat”, meaning, after posing for federal agents, or policemen, or anything, you shouldn’t really come back. You marked Denver with a big X

“What did you see?”, he asked gently, you looked at were John had gone, to the bathroom, you were at the local diner

“Uh?”, you asked looking back at him, “when?”

“When that Djinn got you”, he said again

“It was a dream”, you said seriously

“(y/n), you mumbled “mom” when you were waking up”, he said, you looked back at him, it had been a beautiful dream

“My mom was alive”, you said, “I went to Stanford to study architecture, I met Sam, he finished school and married Jess, you had studied too, went to USF and studied mechanical engineering”, you said quickly, he frowned, “I got married and had twin girls”

“Really?”, he asked, you nodded, he chuckled, “what a trip”, he smiled, “who’s Jess?”

“Sammy’s girlfriend”, you giggled

“He has a girlfriend?”, he asked, amazed, you nodded

“Who has a girlfriend?”, asked John 

“The guy we are after”, he said simply

“He should be 120 years old”, John said weirdly, you and Dean shared concerned looks

“He was into younger women”, you said quickly. he didn’t buy it

“I appreciate you’re back”, he started, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “but I need you to focus, both of you”, he said severely, and you really appreciated that he didn’t include any “but” or “ifs”, “I understand it’s hard to come back…”

“Yes, Ser”, you said firmly, even Dean seemed surprised, “I’m sorry”, he nodded, more pleased

“What did you see, Ser?”, Dean asked, John looked at him, and then at you

“When?”, he asked

“When those Djinns got you”, he asked, you knew he was dying to know

“Focus on the right things, Dean”, he said severely

“(y/n) told me”, he said, as he was a little kid

“Anyways”, he said, “let’s check in, and then we’ll gather the info”

“People showing up dead with missing body parts, right?”, you asked, grabbing the paper clipping over the table, “are we sure this isn’t just a gang for organ trafficking?”, you asked gently

“Yes, but… the stitches… they are using silk, that is a way old method to stitch those”, muttered John, you nodded

“Great”, you mumbled. 

“Let’s wait until we are in the motel”, muttered John looking around, you both nodded, you put the clipping away

“Yes Ser”, you said at the same time.

This motel in particular was… nicer, one room with two twin beds, it was comfortable.

“Oh look, we have a kitchen!”, you admired 

“Nice”, said Dean without caring, you dropped the two bags filled with weapons on the bed, Dean and John got ready, they started getting dressed in suits

“Why can’t I go?”, you asked Dean

“Because you can’t keep a straight face, you are always smiling and giggling”, he mocked, “and you look 20”, you rolled your eyes

“I’m 22”

“Exactly, besides, the trope of Seasoned agent and his apprentice never gets old”, he said with a smirk, they both looked handsome in suits. You walked towards Dean, and helped him, arranging his tie that was crooked, he kept looking at you

“You never told me”, he teased

“What?”, you asked him

“Who was the guy you married in your dream”

“You still on that?”, you mocked, trying to hide how nervous you were, he kept smirking at you, “some guy I met on the trip”

“Uh, that important uh?”, he asked

“Not really, he was handsome though, and it was a dream you know”

“I know when you are lying”, he teased.

“Idjit”, you chuckled

“We need you to give us some intel”, said John, you barely nodded

“Yes, I’ll do”, you said quickly, setting up your computer on the table, “but you do know I can lift 1.000 pounds, right?”, you asked, very seriously

“Yeah, yeah, sure”, mocked Dean, but then he stopped and looked right back at you, “how do you know how much you bench?”, he asked

“I like to go to gyms and freak gym rats out”, you said simply

“I need you to check on the places the people had been snatched from”, said John, giving you a list

“Great”, you said happily, you did like this part, the investigation, like you were detectives

As they left to start their investigation, you prepared a small pack and left too. 

You had seen so many cities, each time though you couldn’t possibly learn the layout of another one, but you did, you always learned them, and soon you managed to wander around and always come back to the motel.

Parks, that was a favorite spot for beasts, vampires, werewolves and ghouls to snatch their victims. 

A guy who used to run everyday by the park got snatched two days ago.

You looked around, not knowing what you were really looking for, something… 

You wouldn’t tell this to John, or Dean, not even Sam when he was with you… and of course you didn’t know what humans perceived or saw or heard… but in comparison to the boys, you noticed you could… sense everything more clearly, you had really acute instincts… 

So you walked a path through a more distant part of the park almost through the woods 

The hair in the backs of your head were standing up, all your senses seemed heightened, you entered a subspace in your head of maximum alert even though you weren’t really scared, if was like you were on the hunt… even though you didn’t really hunted for anything 

The police should have been looking around, so you were being childish to think they would left anything unchecked, but still.

You found nothing.

All of that for nothing, you took the path back to the city, more frustrated than anything, it was childish to think you were going to crack this thing alone, and also, you should get used to the idea that it was going to take a while to adjust back…

“Mama!”, screamed a small child, his mother was with him, “I don’t wanna go down there”, he said, grabbing onto her hand

“Why?”

“There is a man in the woods! Frankenstein!”, he cried

“Last time I let you watch those movies with your cousins!”, she said angrily. You looked back at the forest, but there was nothing there.

The sun was already setting, so you started walking back to the motel, you stopped by a store, to buy some food, now that you had a kitchen in the room, you found some steaks, you bought beer, and buy a lot of snacks, you sensed it was going to be a long night to try and figure this out. You wanted to do something nice for them, so you used your credit card with your fake name

“You are such a nice girl”, said the old woman who was minding the register

“Thank you”, you whispered softly, a bit embarrassed

“You take care alright? there is a bad man out there”, she warned, you found it odd

“What do you mean?”, you asked 

“You take care”, she muttered, you nodded

“Thank you”, you said quickly, grabbing your things. This was a strange town.

You drank beer while you cooked the stakes and made some sides to go with them, John and Dean entered shortly after.

Dean whistled

“I’m so glad to have you back!”, he said happily, kissing your cheek, “I can get used to this”

“Well… don’t”, you said with a giggle. “How did it go?”, you asked

“It was… pretty disgusting”, John, as usual, didn’t say anything but he seems pleased, “we’ll discuss it after dinner doll I don’t want to spoil it”

“I actually saw a couple of things”, you said, “I was walking at the park and… I heard this kid say that he didn’t want to go to the woods, that Frankeinstein was there”

“That could be anything”, said Dean as he help you put the plates a the table

“I felt this weird vibe”, you explained, but they shook it off

“This is so fucking good”, moaned Dean as he ate, “it’s been a while since I’ve eaten a home cooked meal”, he said happily, finishing his food

“Thanks”, muttered JOhn, you only smiled, being glad that you did this for them

After dinner with beers in hand, you started discussing the important things

“We found maggots on the inside of a guy’s wound”, you wanted to throw up the good meal you put together

“Even if that’s disgusting… it is a clue”, you said quickly, taking out the things you researched, “Like the silk used to sew the wounds shut, is a really ancient method, doctors I used to do it like this on the late 1800s”, you said firmly, “so this… doesn’t look human to me”, they shared concerned looks

“A victim is missing its liver, the other, one eye, the one with the worms, and another’s lungs”

“It seems so random though”, you said, “usually is one part for monsters, this thing… is taking parts then trying to patch them up? it’s weird”, you said 

“Agreed”. said Dean.

“Do we have a pattern? like the victims? are they connected?”, you asked.

“They all seemed to be young and healthy”

You spend most part of the night making theories until you finally fall asleep. Since John found you, you bunked with Dean, it wasn’t odd, so you both took one of the beds. You ran hot at night, so Dean was always happy to keep you near when it was cold outside. 

“I’m gonna do make some rounds”, announced John surprisingly, you both looked at him

“We can go with you Sir”, Dean said quickly

“You stay and rest, so you both can go tomorrow”, hes aid firmly, and you knew, with that voice, he didn’t any discussions

He didn’t do you any favors, if he would have wanted you to go, he would have said so, you both understood it, so he left, leaving you both alone

“It’s weird”, you said

“What is?”, he asked back

“You don’t want to hit the bars or anything?”, you asked

“Not really, I’m beat”, he said, accommodating himself ready to sleep, you followed suit soon after.

But something woke you up in the middle of the night, you turned around to see Dean comfortably tucked in, you were sleeping in shorts almost on top of the bed, it was hilarious

John wasn’t back yet.

It was four in the morning.

You got up and dressed, left a note for Dean that you were going to make a few rounds too, and left. You put on your most comfortable boots, you were going on foot.

You were trying to come to a balance, before you left for your trip,John would be so cautious with you, sometimes as far as leaving you in the motel instead of taking you. You’d think you’d be his secret weapon, the muscle of your little group, but the truth is, you weren’t. He was very protective of you, sometimes you even considered he was fearful of you, of what you could do.

And then, when you found yourself alone, you really tested your own limits, and pushed them too, you discovered more things about yourself when you were alone, because you weren’t being pressured constantly. You were so afraid before that you’d hurt somebody, you could see the fear in the Winchester’s too. But you started hunting alone, and even though sometimes you messed up, you got the job done.

Now you believed you needed to adjust back to John, and he needed to adjust to the fact, that you weren’t that little girl anymore, you were a supernatural being, that had total control over her body, and what some may call your “powers”, it was a bit grinding to call them that, the fact that you could burn people to a crisp, not age, and have super strength, but still.

You walked back to the park, something kept calling you there.

You saw the Impala parked by the entrance, and your stomach sank

You ran through that park, all of it, in seconds, it was empty, the night was chilly, and you didn’t know what to do. You took the same road towards the woods. You couldn’t see much, but the moon still lit up the way, and besides, as stated, you had more capabilities than the regular human. You followed the path until it was no longer one, you were in the middle of the woods, this was bananas. You soon heard the noise of a creek, a river.

“JOHN!”, you called, not caring for the consequences, you wished for a wendigo or something, you really wanted to have a good fight, fist to fist.

But no such luck.

You wished so badly you could fly

You could though.

You found a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere, as you stood in front of it… you started catching a disgusting smell, not fresh, but… hits that something recent had been going on. 

You entered quietly, on guard. This might be hunted but you really believe it was not a ghost what you were hunting.

You had a knife on you, you held it tight in your hand, and you uncovered your other from your gloves.

John grunted against his restraints, against the leather this maniac had placed in his mouth. To look so old and disgusted this man had strength, that was for certain.

“I prefer to go younger”, he whispered, “but you have strong arms”, he purred, John fought some more, as the doctor prepared his amputation knife. 

He ripped his shirt off, to be able to see. This man’s face was… twisted, he had cut many pieces of many people and stuck them to himself, to replace parts he had lost himself. He was held up in the basement of an abandoned house, and John was dizzy from the chloroform this monster had used on him, the entire room smell of death, old antiseptic, and the metallic reek of blood.

He stopped before the rusty knife could touch his skin, and the doc looked beyond

“You brought a friend I hear”, he purred, “I sense a strong heart on that one”, John moved even more

He was checking the park, as he remembered what he had said, he came from behind, drugging him, he gave him a fight, but at the end, the chloroform did its trick, the next thing he knew, he was tied to this lunatic’s medical bed.

But he stopped, looking surprise, a thin line of blood dripping from his mouth, and John noticed a blade coming out of his chest where his heart should be

The doctor dropped to the floor and there you were.

With a pull you freed John

“I think this is the worst, so, the best moment to scold you and say, you shouldn’t go out there alone”, you said, angrily, you were the best weapon at his arsenal, and he didn’t use you.

You often wondered that if was because he was scared of you, or didn’t trust you, you didn't know what you preferred 

“Thanks, I was in a bind doll”, the second time he called you that, he had never called you that before. He was weak, he almost dropped to the floor, and there you were, ready to grab him

“We need to get out of here”, , you said quickly, we can come back tomorrow. He wanted to fight it, but he understood he couldn’t, so he let you help him get out of the basement and out of that nightmare cabin.

That… things… was dead 

“He said he had the cure for immortality”, John muttered

“Is that something you are interested in, John?”, you asked almost mockingly, as you started walking through the woods

“How did you find me so quickly?”, he asked, his legs seemed to come out of their stupor, 

“I’ve changed in the past two years John”, you said quickly.

You should have come back, you should have burned that palace to the ground.

But you didn’t, you wanted to get out of there, you didn’t want to set it on fire because the authorities were going to find it, and even though that was going to give a certain peace to the victim’s families, you couldn’t risk all that medieval equipment, and him, coming out to the light, you figured if you came back tomorrow, things could be more clearer 

John had seemed to understand what you meant that night, he seemed to believe he underestimated you, he did. 

But it all went to shit when you returned the next morning, and everything was gone.He was gone. 

You failed.

Sorry if the one before came out a little weird, I'm so nervous I feel like I'm loosing my touch, nobody is reading me anymore, anyways, if you are reading this, it means that you did! love you ❤️

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@deans-spinster-witch

[nescaveckwriter]

Stethoscopes and Triangles - Chapter Four ❤️

A/N: Urghhh 😱 y'all this is just sad, for Amy, frustrating for Sam and heartbreaking for us! But I hope y'all enjoy this, 💕 and oh yeah guess who we meet in this, yep, that amazing green eyed man😋 so sit back and enjoy. 💕

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, angst, heartbreak, cheating, punching, mentions of blood, anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Sam Winchester, Amy Summers, Ruby Jones, Paul Summers, Ada Brown, Dean Winchester.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:2552 😅

Chapter Four 🤩

Rolling over, searching for the large man, opening her eyes slightly, "Sam?" Glaring at the alarm clock 2 in the morning, removing the covers and slipping on her slippers, her eyes still puffy, from the sleep. Walking in too the living room with its open plan kitchen, she finds him slumped over in the chair, still wearing yesterday's clothes, his head resting on his right arm, his hair hanging over his handsome face. Lightly touching his shoulder, her voice calming and sweet, "babe, my love, wake up, go get some proper sleep in our bed please"

He arouses a little, lifting his head with difficulty showing the stiffness in his neck, "Amy? What time is it?"

"It's 2 in the morning, come get up" she tugs at his arm, and he just follows her, too tired to fight with her, letting her know, that he's not nearly done reading and going through the paperwork. He just stumbles on the bed, work clothes and all, spayed out, on the bed, his voice croaky from the sleep. "I love you Amy" a sweet smile lining across her lips, "you too babe" The light snores coming from him, let's her know, he's fast asleep, and she ain't getting a inch of help to remove his working clothes. Slowly removing his tie, while placing a soft kiss, on his cheek, "sweet dreams babe" She whispers, removing his shoes, and socks, covering him up with the blanket. As she curls up next too him, thinking about how he looked after her, these last few weeks, her fingers lingering across the now healed scar on her neck. But she worries about him, its almost as if his carrying around this burden but she can't quite figure out what it is, and its been coming for some time now, he works so much, and the hours are getting longer, or maybe she's just imagining things, because usually she's at work also working long hours, maybe she just never noticed it before. With those thoughts running around in her mind, she falls asleep. 

She gets woken up by the shift on the bed, glancing at his side, he runs his hand over his face, her voice sweet "morning babe" he's head cocks to her side, he sounds tired "morning sweetie" he gets up walking towards the bathroom, "I'm going to take a shower and get ready to head into the office" sitting half upright now, "enjoy your shower love, what do you want for breakfast?"

He doesn't even look her way, he just walks in, closing the door behind him, and letting her know, that he'll get something on the way, no need for any trouble. Finding it a little odd, but kind off writing it off due to the fact that he's tired, she gets up, to make some coffee. As she waits for the coffee machine, Sam's phone vibrates on the table. She strides closer, thinking maybe its important or the battery is about to die.

 It's a message from a Ruby Jones, : Hey Sam☺️ just want to know for when I should book that little place for the two off...

She just glares at the phone, she can't read what the message said further his phone is locked, but she can't help but too think that's why he's been acting so distant, so different, his having an affair, cheating on her? Her hands are shaking, her chest feels like it going to explode, "how... Why... Is he really cheating?" She mumbles underneath her breath. The tears burning behind her eyes, she places his phone down, her eyes get caught on his suit jacket that's draped over the kitchen chair, she looks a little closer there's a makeup smudge on his collar, she picks it up to take a closer look, then the smell of another women's perfume hits her nostrils, her lower lip trembling as emotions of anger and sadness swirl around in her chest, swallowing down the tears, as she throws the jacket over the chair, pouring some coffee in her cup. Hearing Sam walking towards the kitchen, barely looking at her he throws in the files in his suitcase, taking his phone and walks towards the door, he turns around, "Have a good first day at work Amy, I need to head into work, love you" and heads right back out of there apartment door. She's left standing there shock on her face, knowing that she's right, that man she loves so dearly is cheating on her.

Still left standing there, too shocked too move a muscle, the door flung open, Sam's voice bring her out of her haze, "forgot my car keys" she glares at him, confusion prominent between his eyebrows, "did I do something wrong"

Walking closer towards him, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her face "Am I not enough"

"What are you talking about Amy?"

"If you don't love me anymore give it too me straight, you don't go behind my damn back, and get another woman"

Surprised Sam looks at her like she's crazy "What the hell Amy? What is the matter with you?"

Her jaw clenches, "the Ruby chick with her messages, the make up and perfume on your clothes, you barely look at me, you work later than normal, wanna tell me I'm crazy, please go ahead"

Starting to get irritated with her accusing him of something so far from the truth, he turns towards the door, giving her one last glance as he shouts "if you think I'm capable of doing something so damn outrageous, I don't even know what I'm doing in this relationship anymore, goodbye Amy" walking out and smashing the door closed behind him.

Sliding down the kitchen cabinet, sobbing frantically, shaking her head, never in her entire life would she had thought that Sam would cheat, that Sam would be just like her father. She was always so determined to not end up like her poor mother, scattered and broken through a damn affair, but yet here she is.

 As Sam speeds to work, his thoughts can't help but to race to the sight his just seen, the look of betrayal of sadness of anger on her delicate face, her ocean blue eyes, was filled with despair, making them appear darker than they are. "Dammit" he cusses underneath his breath.

Shaking his head, if only she knew the reason he can't look her in the eyes, the reason his been working such long hours, its not because he's a cheat, no! He's building a case, a case where it looks like Paul Summers her father is involved in.  Recalling the witness that came forth, a older lady in her late forties, scared too death, she was bawling her eyes out so he pulled her into a hug, it can't be easy losing your only child. He recalls the message Amy was talking about, unlocking his phone reading the message, Hey Sam☺️ just want to know for when I should book that little place for the two off you. 

He asked Ruby too book a special place for Amy's birthday coming up, he wanted too treat her, knowing he has been distant. But all that has gone too hell now. Thinking he should probably call her, and try too explain, but knowing her, he needs too let her cool down first, he knows the impact her father's cheating had on her, she was so reluctant, going out with him in the first place, and now she thinks that he loves another woman. "There's only one woman for me dammit" he cusses to himself, as he pulled into the parking.

Walking through the hospital doors, first time in a couple of weeks, she felt so happy too be able to go too work this morning, doing what she loves, and now... now she feels, weak, sad and broken. Walking straight to the ER. she just wants too forget about everything and drown herself in her patients problems, she's caught off guard, by the 'Welcome Back' banner hanging, a few balloons, and some nurses and doctors, welcoming her with smiles, and nods. Ada comes too give her a welcome back hug, as her best friend's arms snakes around her, she can feel the tears damming behind her eyes, she squints in order, to hide them, too push them back.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad your back, and okay, you gave me a good scare, there for a minute"

Amy forces a giggle "Thank you, Ada, and everyone, for everything, but I'm back now, let's get too work okay, we've got lives to save."

Knowing her best friend, better than she knows herself, she agrees with Amy, and gives everyone orders, where to go, which patients to see, and what to do. She won't pry, but she knows, that something aren't right, she'll just wait till she comes and talks too her.

It was a slow day, nothing too serious, just the usual GSW'S and minor injuries. But it was mid shift that, the ER. had multiple injured people entering through the doors, a Navy helicopter full off injured seals, with severe injuries, is about to land.

It was literal chaos, but Amy felt right at home, in fact it's when she felt most alive. Ada said she should check out the man, in trauma bay 2, and she went right in, expecting, no actually hoping it was something challenging. As she took some gloves, she witnessed a man, about mid thirties maybe early forties, something about him seemed familiar, but he sat on the hospital bed, cargo pants and a grey vest exposed his muscular arms, the open gash on his arm, blood seeping through and the right side of his face, there was an open deep wound, blood gushing from it. She walked closer, introducing herself. "I'm Dr. Summers, how are you feeling"

He flinches, his green eyes piercing through hers, "I feel fine, can I go now"

Shocked by his answer "No! I need to check you out first"

His picture perfect jawline hardens, "then do it already dammit"

She just smiles and assures him, she'll do her best and she starts to stitch up the wound to his face and proceeds to the one on his arms, he doesn't say much, he's pretty restless, and every now and again  she need too tell him to sit still, as she finished with the stitching. He got up, towering over her, about too leave but he didn't get far as she kindly told him "Please sit down, we still need to run some tests" 

He looks at her, like she just spoke another language, as he spoke in a rough voice "No! I need to check on my brothers." 

Her eyebrows furrowed, as she got irritated by his demeanor, her voice stern "I said sit your ass down now, I'm not done with you" she steadily pushed him back towards the bed, careful not too hurt him, but stern enough to let him know, she's serious.

He just threw his hands in the air, letting her know, his sort off surrendering, thinking too himself, damn this doctor is hot, any other day, and he would've asked for her number, but not today, his too worried about his team.

"I'm going to order your labs, and see a few other patients, if I come back here and see your not here, I'll get security and let them handcuff you the bed, understood" she warns

He just smirks as he's amused by this woman, who's ordering  him around as if his her two year old, not happy he folds his arms, mouthing "yes mother".

She can't help but too smile a little at the stubbornness of her patient. She proceeds further too attend to some off the other patients.

Sam sits at his desk, going over all the evidence, his gather over these few weeks, his got a solid case, a slam dunk so too say, usually he'd be so happy, but not today, if he wins this case not only will a very bad, dangerous man be off the streets, but he might loose Amy in the process. He is going to make sure her father is behind bars, by the end of this week.  Lifelong if the jury votes in his favor. 

As he sips on the cold bitter brown liquid, he hears chatter outside his door, before he could get up, he's door flung open, hearing Ruby shout, "Sir you can't go in yet" the older man just walks through, his voice loud "He'll see me"

Sam is shocked when he sees its Paul Summers, calmly he tells Ruby "You can go, thanks, close the door behind you"

She just nods and closes the door. The older man's voice angry, a warning tone "what do you think your doing Sam?"

Calmly getting up, striding closer to Amy's father "Good afternoon, Mr Summers, something I can help you with?"

"What do you think your doing, this is going to not only ruin me, but Amy, do you not cares what happens to her, by falsely accusing me"

Sam smirks, "Falsely, I don't think so, I have multiple evidence and witnesses, that can bring you down."

"Ha! We'll see about that, now won't we?" he has a devilish smile on his face. "I'm not the bad guy here, you are Samuel!"

Pointing his finger to door, "I think you better leave Paul" 

"What, like Amy is going too leave you" he provokes the young man.

"This isn't about Amy, this is about you, you are a Crime Boss, ordering your people to execute your demands , smuggling weapons, drugs and people over the border, even human trafficking, how can you, you have a daughter, how do you live with yourself."  

He laughs, "It's only business, and that money is what gave my daughter the ability to be a doctor, I am the reason she is who she is today"

Sam can't take this man's audacity anymore, he starts raising his voice "No! Paul, your not worthy off the name father, Amy, put herself through college, she worked hard to get where she is today, and the only thing she got from you, is a damn voice of you in her head, claiming she is still not enough.!"

The man's jaw tightens and his fist clenches, without thinking it through, he throws a punch, towards Sam's face, grinning as he watches the blood dripping from his now broken nose. "Don't you ever tell me I weren't a good father" as he turns around to head towards the door, he watches Sam take the back of his hand, to wipe off the red , sticky liquid, off his upper lip. "By the way Sammy boy, I bet you my case will get thrown out" he walks out leaving Sam standing there balling his fist's as he wants to punch that stupid grin off the old man's face, knowing he can't it will jeopardize his case, he will just have to wait to get him in court. But the most important thing he can do now, is make sure the witnesses is save, because something tells him, that warning weren't just for show, no! he is planning something, something big!

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch12: Dear Dad

Summary: A new enemy makes herself known... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Gore. John Winchester should be his own warning. Word Count: 5399 Recommended Song: Cold as Ice -- Foreigner Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

The boys were rejoicing over the return of their father. I watched with bated breath, worried that something would go wrong. I still had that unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach and something told me not to let my guard down. I brought the neck of my t-shirt to my split lip and dabbed at the slow trickle of blood.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean said quietly as he separated himself from his father's warm embrace, almost sounding embarrassed. "I didn't know. I'm sorry." The way he talked made my skin prickle, as if this was the only person who could command Dean's respect. I had never seen him, or Sam for that matter, bow to anyone like this. It made my skin crawl that Dean fell into a kind of obedience that he had with no one else.

"It's alright. I figured it might have been," John replied. He sounded so sure of himself.

"Then why are you here?" I demanded. The words came out much more spiteful than I had intended, earning me a harsh glare from Dean. I shrugged it off and held John's cold gaze. Neither my wolf nor I liked the commanding presence he held. He stood as if he owned the room and dominated the space, an admiral trait amongst humans. But to me… it felt like a threat.

John's gaze was harsh and cold, like a bitter winter. It felt like he was analyzing every inch of me and judging me based on what he saw. I didn't like the calculating look he was giving me.

"I came to help my sons," he said icily, and his no-nonsense tone caused me to narrow my eyes at him. "Mind telling me who the hell you are?"

Dean jumped into action without a second thought. "She's a hunter. A friend of ours." John didn't even look his way and instead held my firm gaze. He didn’t buy it – the brothers knew better than to hunt with people that weren’t part of the family.

I uttered my name coldly and extended my hand to John. "I'm new to the business."

John's brown eyes narrowed in thought, pondering what I had said. "You got any family in the business?" My skin itched. He really put it together that quickly?

I nodded. "Yeah. My uncle. I saw his phone number in our journal, you know. He never told me about you." I crossed my arms and did my best to look intimidating. It was harder than I anticipated, knowing that I was inadvertently defying a well-known hunter, a man that his sons, my friends, looked up to with a great deal of respect.

Dean’s head snapped in my direction the moment I mentioned the phone number. My gaze slipped to his for just a second, shooting him a cold look. Now he understood. He looked sheepish, realizing he had blown off such an important conversation.

I nearly had a heart attack when John cracked a subtle grin. "Funny," he said slowly. "I remember him. Good man, better hunter. He never mentioned you either." He grasped my hand tightly and shook it. "Thank you for looking out for my boys. I know they can be a handful."

I flashed my own grin and nodded. "You wouldn't believe the shit they've gotten into while you were gone."

He chuckled and clapped Dean on the shoulder. Dean smiled a genuine smile, one of the few I had ever seen him show. "I bet I could tell you stories about these two you that would have your head spinning," John laughed again, a well-worn sound, as though he used to laugh a lot. "You boys remember that hunt outside of San Antonio? With the rugaru? You boys just about-"

"Dad," Sam interjected with an almost warning note. John looked towards his youngest son, a flash of pain dancing over his eyes. "When did you get here?"

John swallowed before speaking again. "About the same time as your friend, I assume. Burst in right before the girl took a swan dive," he paused and looked towards the now broken window. "She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," the boys said in sync. John nodded slowly, pondering as he took a few long strides towards the window.

"Good. That doesn't surprise me," he sighed and locked his hands behind his back, surveying his limited view of the city block. "It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" questioned Sam, walking up behind his father. John nodded solemnly.

"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcize it or send it back to hell- actually kill it." My eyes widened. Demons can't be killed, at least not to my limited knowledge they can't. And how did John expect to kill a demon of this caliber? From the stories I had heard, this thing was no joke.

"How?" Dean asked, voicing the very question I was asking myself.

"I'm working on that," his father responded. I frowned at the vague answer. Was he really not going to involve his boys in this? They had just as much of a right to know as anyone. I opened my mouth to retort but was cut off by Sam.

"Let us come with you," the youngest Winchester said. It was more of a command than a question. "We'll help."

Dean flashed a warning glare toward Sam and turned away from his family, reaching for his bag of weapons. My eyes followed Dean's reserved and surprisingly defeated-looking form. It was like he already knew this was going to go nowhere.

"No, Sam, not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt," John stated with a note of finality in his voice.

Sam clenched his jaw and balled his fists. His teeth ground together, as though he was trying to hold himself back from arguing. "Dad, you don't need to worry about us-"

"Of course, I do," John argued. "I'm your father." He sighed and ran a hand through his mussed hair, a bit of it sticking up with dried blood from where I had hit him. I felt a mix of pride and shame; pride, for landing a blow like that to one of the most famous hunters in America, and shame, for having fought him at all. "Listen, we can talk about this more when we get back to your hotel room."

Dean perked up at this, eyes wide with relief as he spun to face John. "You're coming with us?"

"For now," he answered. "I'll meet you there." He paced towards his fallen weapons bag and slung it over his shoulder, then stopped to think for a moment. He turned to me, emotions masked under his heavy gaze. "How about you ride with me. You can help give me directions to the hotel."

My heart thumped in my chest with worry. Was he already on to me?

Dean spoke up before I could answer. "Dad, you can just follow us-"

"It's alright, Dean," I said, holding up a hand. His jaw snapped shut, eyes filled with worry. It struck me just how much he almost looked like a puppy when John was around. He lost his bruising confidence and command as soon as John and I fell through the door. "I can handle myself." Dean's gaze hardened at my words. He knew what I really meant.

If John was going to find out who I really was, it would be on my terms. He wasn't going to find out what I was that easy.

The eldest Winchester nodded and motioned for me to follow him down the many stairs I had climbed up not that long ago. I sidestepped over the fallen door on the ground floor and followed him out of the building.

I realized that the pickup I had seen park a few alleys down was in fact his. I couldn't help but beat myself up over not putting two and two together – I couldn't have known, but I should have known.

To my surprise, the cab of the pickup smelled a lot like the boys – or rather, the boys smelled a lot like their father. The seats were worn and stained, and the scent of cheap beer hung in the air. It was the same beer scent that hung off Dean. Apparently, he and his father had similar tastes. John had an interesting smell, one of motor oil and beer, like when he wasn't hunting he was under his vehicle doing something. I remember the brothers mentioning that he was a mechanic before all this happened. Old habits die hard, I guess.

"You know, I've heard of you before. I dropped by Missouri Moseley's place not long after you three visited her."

My brows rose and I cocked my head to look at him. He stopped by Missouri’s, but didn’t bother to find his sons? And now he was just conveniently close enough to Chicago to be here for this hunt. Was he… following us? "Yeah? That was my first case with your boys," I answered coolly, fighting to keep the suspicion out of my tone.

John hummed thoughtfully, his eyes fixated on the dark road ahead. His brows knit together for a moment and he turned his face away from me, shrouded in shadow. "Where'd you say they picked you up?"

"Alabama. Few months back."

"Right. Alabama."

We drove along for only a few minutes, the Impala steadily distancing itself from us. As the boys turned a corner and disappeared from sight, John jerked the wheel in the opposite direction and turned sharply. I extended my hands to hold onto the dash, for fear of being knocked over. He guided the raised truck to a parking spot and halted.

The moment was tense with the two of us sitting in complete silence. I picked at the hem of my coat, borrowed from Dean, and waited for him to speak.

John inhaled deeply and clenched his hands on the steering wheel, holding it with a white knuckle grip. "You know," he started, his voice rough, "I hunted with your… uncle a few times. Got to know him pretty well. He never once mentioned anything about having a niece." His brown eyes latched onto my own, surveying me with deep suspicion and distrust. "The only family he ever mentioned was his sister, and I was told she died on a werewolf hunt years ago."

I swallowed dryly, lifting my chin in defiance. "So what? You trying to say you don't think I am who I say I am?"

"I think something is off about you," he grumbled. "You're hiding something."

"I can assure you, I'm not," I growled. "He was my uncle, and his sister was my mother."

"That would make you as old as Dean, for that to be plausible." Yeah, just about. Only a couple years younger. He leaned back in his seat and placed one hand on his hip to where I was sure he concealed some sort of weapon. "Something about your story doesn't check out, and I'll be damned if I let someone I don't trust around my boys."

I bit back a warning growl. "With all due respect, John, while your boys have been gallivanting around the country searching for you, I was the one helping them." I scowled at him, grimacing with distaste at his words. "If I wanted to hurt them, I've already had ample opportunities."

His fist clenched over his hip and a worn scowl rested on his face. I maintained the heated stare-down for what felt like years before he finally dropped his and looked out the front window.

"So what's the story?" he inquired. "What happened to your mom?"

I huffed and leaned back in my seat with my arms crossed. "She, uh, died on a hunt not long after I was born. I lived with my father. He left when I was seventeen... I moved in with my uncle after that."

It wasn't completely a lie. No, my mother hadn't died, but John didn't need to know that. That would have just raised even more questions that I either couldn't or didn't want to answer. And yeah, I had lived with my dad after she 'died,' but I had also lived with my mom.

"Why'd your dad leave?" he pressed, pulling a toothpick from the glove compartment and sliding it between his teeth.

I shrugged. "Hell if I know. Guess he just finally got fed up with me." No, he got fed up with living without her, I thought to myself. Despite their volatile and frequent fights they loved each other. “I look like her. That’s what my uncle said,” I tacked on hurriedly, building the story. Again, only a half lie.

John hummed in response and rolled his tongue over his teeth. I lifted a brow at the motion. Sam had the same habit when he was lost in thought. "Where is your uncle? Haven't heard from him in a while."

I stiffened, eyes glazing over as I stared out the window in front of me. John really didn't know? "He's dead," I mumbled. "Almost two years ago. Wraith hunt." I rubbed my eye, fighting back the occasional tear that wanted to slip through. Thinking about his death was one thing, but telling someone else about it made it feel so much more real...

"Shit," John whispered. "He was a good hunter."

No 'I'm sorry'? Seriously?

"Yeah," I mumbled back. "Yeah, he was. The best, I think."

"Did he ever get the wolf that got your mom?" John asked. I scoffed. Right back to hunting, like I wasn't suppressing the urge to cry. "He'd mentioned wanting to a few times."

"No," I sighed. "And, uh… he didn’t think it was a werewolf that killed her."

That caught John's attention. His head slowly turned to face mine, eyebrow raised and eyes holding a question in them. "If it wasn't a werewolf, then what was it?" Fuck… I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

"Um… you know about skinwalkers, right? Dean mentioned you went on a hunt when the boys were little."

“Yeah, I know of ‘em. They're just myths. If they did exist, they're all dead now."

I felt my hackles rise and fought the urge to growl at him. "Then what about your hunt?"

He shrugged. "I got a tip-off that there was some activity in the mountains of New Mexico. Small city nearby, people disappearing and then their bodies turning up with almost no distinguishable marks – all of them had their hearts missing. Wasn’t a full moon, so couldn’t have been a werewolf." My skin prickled as I felt him turn his heated stare toward me with that cold, calculating feeling that made my skin crawl. “I’ve seen a few similar cases since then. Nothing fruitful, though.” 

“Makes sense if they’re extinct,” I grumbled.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There was a local legend, probably spread by the Navajo – they're native to that area, you know, and the deserts around it like Arizona. Anyway, a bunch of locals were talking about seeing wild wolves with red eyes. Massive wolves apparently, bigger than any dog. When I went out there and looked around, there was nothing. No wolves, no bodies, no trace of nothing. Even the witnesses had either moved away or refused to talk and acted like they hadn't seen anything. I tried to work the case, but there was nothing to go on."

I shifted in my seat and turned my upper body to face him. "The lack of a case doesn't negate their existence."

John chuckled again, an airy, disbelieving sound. "No, but it doesn't prove their existence either. I haven't heard about a fresh skinwalker case in years. Last person I met who actually saw one is probably in her late eighties now. Hell, even then she wasn't sure what she saw. Said it was just as likely to have been a Chupacabra," he hummed and turned his dark, almost black eyes on me. "What makes him so sure it was a skinwalker that did her in?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, searching for a feasible answer and finding none. "Dunno. He never… found any real facts. Just a feeling, I guess," I finally said, my voice lacking the confidence I felt.

John laughed once before putting the truck back into drive and pulling away from the curb. "On a hunt, the only thing that a feeling will get you is dead."

I narrowed my eyes at him and leaned forward slightly as he accelerated the heavy truck, the engine roaring to life. "I think feelings are important on a hunt. Without them, it becomes more about the thrill of the kill and less about saving a life."

He mulled this over for a few seconds before speaking. "Feelings save people, yeah. But the lack of it wipes out monsters. There's a reason why we don't have skinwalkers or vampires anymore - someone lacked those feelings. And now, those monsters can't hurt anyone again."

I straightened in my seat, utterly surprised by his coldness. I had never met anyone with such a dark philosophy. Even my uncle, an incredibly skilled and well-known hunter, valued compassion for the victims over the death of the monster. I sat back against my seat, staring out the window with wide eyes.

I blinked twice, realizing that I could never alert John to what I really was. If I did, he'd certainly kill me. God, to even bring skinwalkers up was so fucking stupid. What the hell was I thinking?

"You know," he started. I refused to turn my eyes toward him. "I'm glad someone like you is with the boys. You don't seem like the type to put up with their shit."

"No," I stated. "No, I try not to put up with anyone's shit."

"Good. The boys need that, for when I'm not around."

I bristled, my shoulders tensing. I’m nothing like you. The remainder of the trip back to the hotel was silent, aside from the occasional direction on how to get there. I was thankful when he parked and I was out the door before he had even unbuckled his seat belt.

I threw my backpack on, slinging it over my shoulders, and rushed to our hotel room. I tossed the door open and leaned against the wall, catching my breath. God, that was nerve-wracking.

The brothers poked their heads out from the kitchen where they were organizing weapons on the kitchen table. Dean's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed, a million thoughts rushing through his head.

"I told you not to come!" he shouted just as John pushed the door open. "I told you to stay put! What if you had gotten hurt!?"

"Lay off, Dean," John said, dropping his own pack on the bed nearest the door. "She was just looking out for you, just as you would have done for her."

Dean was fuming and he raked his fingers through his hair angrily, giving it a slight tug. "She defied a direct order, dad!" I scoffed and pushed past him, shoving him lightly on the shoulder. Sam gave me a pitying glance as I threw my bag on the second bed and flopped into the other unoccupied kitchen chair.

"Sounds familiar," John retorted. "She must’ve gotten it from you."

I suppressed a chuckle, catching Sam's hazel eyes as he fought the urge as well. Dean sputtered and from this angle, I could see his ears flush a deep red. John's eyes flitted around the shabby room, taking the place in before landing on Sam. His eyes warmed and then clouded over with deep sadness and longing. I recognized that look. It was a regret.

"Sammy," he sighed and crossed the room to his youngest son, who stood from his chair to meet him. "Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, his eyes tearing up a bit. It surprised me to see Sam on the verge of tears. I knew they fought before Sam left for college, but I never knew what about or how bad. I felt it wasn't really my business, nor did Sam want to discuss it.

"It's good to see you again," John said, his own eyes moist. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam added, gripping his shorter father in a tight hug like this was their last chance at rekindling their relationship.

In all honesty, it might have been. Not even a beat after the two separated, John was suddenly thrown across the room, his back hitting the cabinets roughly.

"No!" Dean screamed, rushing towards him before being tossed in the opposite direction like a limp rag.

"Dean!" I screamed. Sam rushed towards his father, who screamed as something tore into his chest.

I felt an icy sensation as something sunk into my back and shoulder and slid down my back. My back burned and I screamed, spinning and ripping the flesh more as whatever it was unhooked its claws from me. I could see the red seeping into my vision once more, but I shoved it back when I heard Dean scream my name and point toward his bag.

I lunged towards it and dragged it off the table, pulling it onto the floor and rifled through its contents. There had to be something in here that would produce enough light to ward these shadow demon things off.

I screamed again as I felt icy talons dig into the back of my thigh and suddenly I was being dragged backward on my stomach, pulling the bag with me. The thing tore into my leg, shredding whatever muscles and tendons it could reach while I tossed contents out of the bag.

Finally, my hand clenched around the familiar shape of a flare and I held the object high above my head as the Daeva ripped through my leg like a piece of paper. I screamed through clenched teeth as I uncapped the flare and tossed it on the ground.

The room filled with blistering white heat and the icy feeling in my leg was replaced with burning pain. My eyes swam with unshed tears. I wasn't sure if the blinding light or the pain was making me cry. My head lolled forward and I vaguely heard the brothers screaming around me.

My eyes struggled to focus on a bulky shape as it slipped toward the door. I blinked and grimaced in pain as I lay backward. My mangled shoulder hit the floor and I hollered in pain, lifting a hand to my mouth to suppress it.

Suddenly I was rising, a weight gently pushing into the undamaged areas of my back and another hooking under my knees. I curled into a ball against the chest of whoever had lifted me. Blood dripped onto my face and I had half a mind to look at where it was coming from – or rather, who it belonged to.

My rescuer coughed from the smoke of the brilliantly white flare. I clenched my eyes shut from the pain and the searing light. Suddenly, the cold air hit my exposed back and I whimpered, clutching tighter onto the swath of fabric under my palm.

"Dean!" I heard Sam shout and pound toward us. "Is she alright?"

"Fuck no, I'm not alright!" I shouted into Dean's shirt. "My leg looks like fucking spaghetti!"

Dean chuckled morbidly and set me down on the hood of the Impala on my stomach, keeping my mangled back and leg clear of the still warm metal. I pressed my elbows to the hood and attempted to prop myself up. He brushed my hair out of my face to get a good look at my feverish eyes and red complexion.

"At least you're alive," he offered weakly and rid himself of his jacket, exposing the brown flannel underneath and pressing it to my leg. I howled and gripped his arm, digging my nails into the soft flesh. "Keep pressure on that," he said before limping towards his brother and father.

"Come on, we don't have much time!" Sam shouted, wrenching one of the back doors of the Impala open and ushering his father inside. John didn't move. "As soon as that flare goes out, they'll be back!"

"Wait, wait. wait! Sam, hold on a second!" Dean shouted, gripping his father's arm to keep him steady. He looked forlornly towards John, a look of regret on his handsome, but bloody, features. "Dad can't come with us..."

"What!?" I screeched from the hood of the car, doing my best to turn and face the boys without causing any more damage. "You've spent months looking for this motherfucker, and now you're telling him to leave!?"

"Dean, what are you talking about!?" Sam demanded, tossing his arms in the air in frustration.

John sighed and pulled his arms from Dean's grasp. He shuffled away from the side of the Impala and walked along its edge to where I sat. "You all are beat to hell," he mumbled out, exhaustion written on his leathery features. He ran a calloused hand through his hair, matted with blood.

"We'll be alright," Dean stated reassuringly.

"Like hell, we are, Dean!" Sam shouted, floundering and dripping blood onto the roof of the car. "We need to stick together! We'll go after those demons-"

"Sam, listen to me!" Dean snapped, cutting his brother off. "We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He- he's stronger without us around."

I flinched at the brutality of his words. My head swam with thoughts and profuse pain - wouldn't he be in just as much danger on his own?

 I blinked and my head swam. When my eyes opened again, the edges of my vision were dark and out of focus. I blinked a few more times to refocus on the situation at hand. Focus on the pain after the job. My uncle used to say that a lot, especially when he came home from a rough hunt.

I remembered my first hunt with him – nothing special, just a wendigo that was rampaging through campsites in the Rockies. My hips had gotten cut up pretty bad – I had wanted to call it quits. I felt like I couldn't run, let alone shift and hunt the bastard down.

Focus on the pain later.

Do the job now.

Focus on the pain later.

When I opened my eyes, John was pressing a firm hand to my temple, stemming a flow of blood that I hadn't even realized was escaping. I blinked to clear my eyes and focus on his scruffy visage. His eyes held a certain earnesty and sadness in them. My ears were ringing as he spoke to me.

"Take care of my boys," he said, fear leaking into his voice. "They're all I've got left." I winced at the pounding in my skull and nodded. He smiled softly. "Your uncle would be proud of you."

And with that, he was gone, the only reminder of him being a warm feeling left on my cheek, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

—

"I can walk just fine on my own, asshat," I grumbled to a frustrated Sam. I gripped my crutches tightly as I made my way out the hospital door.

"Yeah right," Sam retorted, placing a large hand on my lower back to help guide me towards the car. "The doctors wanted you to stay overnight-"

"Yeah, and what are the doctors going to say when in two days they can't see their patient's bone anymore?" I glowered at Sam. The damage was bad, but not bad enough for me to stay around humans for this long. "I'll be going now, and I'm taking my exposed bone with me, thank you," I snapped as I did my best to shrug on Dean's now shredded coat. This had quickly become my favorite article of clothing, despite it being covered in blood and vomit, and now having deep slash marks down the back. I thought it gave it character.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it. "Dean's not going to be happy when he sees what happened to his coat."

"Dean can suck my metaphorical dick," I hissed. "You said he doesn't wear it anymore anyway - why did he even have it?"

"He uses it for a pillow when we're driving."

"Guess he'll have to get a new pillow then," I said as I used my crutches to propel me forward and towards the Impala. "When is he getting out?"

"He said he'll be discharged in a few minutes," Sam replied as we stopped beside the car. He unlocked the Impala and opened the door for me. "He just has to pay the bill and then we're done."

"You mean some poor sap whose credit card you stole has to pay the bill?" I teased as I attempted to slide my crutches into the car and then sneak in beside them. I hissed as my ankle caught on the edge of the car and I fought to lift my leg without any more pain.

"You alright?" Sam asked from his place by the door.

"Yep, I'm fine," I hummed. "But are you OK? I mean... you didn't seem too happy about... everything..."

Sam laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I get it, why dad had to leave again. I'm not happy about it, but I'm fine."

I opened my mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Dean limping towards us. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up!" I said, tossing my hands in the air. "And how come they didn't give you crutches!?"

"Because my leg doesn't look like it went through a blender," he sassed. "Listen, we need to get out of here before those Daevas come back. I want to be long gone before they show up here again."

Sam nodded and shut the door on me before sliding into the passenger's seat. I leaned forward and peaked over Sam's shoulder as Dean got into the car. "So where to?"

Dean spun in his seat and propped his elbow up on the back of his chair. He glared pointedly at me. "You are going home. Sam and I will probably rest up for a few days and then go back to hunting."

I frowned. "What, so I get shredded by shadow demons and you guys just toss me?"

Dean laughed. "I don't know what the hell they gave you for the pain, but I'm pretty sure it removed your filter."

"Shut it," I pouted, dropping back into my seat and crossing my arms over my chest. "In my defense, I feel like I just went through a blender. I think I'm allowed some sass, thank you."

"Save it for your family, Clifford," he said, earning a robust laugh from Sam. "You'll be home in..." he checked his watch, "I'd say thirteen or fourteen hours. You can gripe and complain all you want then."

"Or," I said, drawing out the word as I leaned forward, "I could harass you boys the whole way there. Maybe jump out of the car. After all, you guys put me in this situation."

"Woah, wait a minute!" said Dean, holding up a hand as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "Last I checked, I told you to stay put."

"Should have barricaded the door, Dean. You should know as well as anyone that I don't listen to anyone but myself."

Dean grumbled as Sam and I laughed, profusely teasing Dean until he finally hushed us by playing some music. Despite the pain in my leg and back, I couldn't help but be filled with joy. Again, I had succeeded in, to put it plainly, not dying while with the boys.

And better yet, I finally felt ready to see my pack again.

[sargasmicgoddess]

Grad writer here with some clarifying comments: my field of study is philosophy of religion (more philosophy than religious studies if that's a necessary distinction), my mentor in question is my Philosophy professor, but another mentor I've worked with in the past is an English Lit dean who specializes in Dickens who said "You never want to publish the first draft, and your dissertation is like the first draft of your career." I don't think either of them are trying to be condescending, more to say "even when you have the letters after your name, keep working"

Thank you for the clarification! I think it might be a difference in discipline, in this case. I'm looking at things from a science/social science perspective, and it may differ from a liberal arts perspective.

The aspect of knowledge generation via research in my area often has an end goal of integration of the knowledge into policy or interventions. So, dissemination is crucial for getting this knowledge out in order to harness its immediate and future translational impact.

Thanks you for this very fun discussion! My head is still swimming (in the best way possible) after a semester on the philosophy of science. I think your mentors are right in that you should continue working. For me, the sense of wonder I've acquired is priceless, and I feel so very much at home in my program. I wanted to train as a research scientist, and that's what I'm getting. The letters behind my name are appreciated and important, but definitely not the end goal. My growth and contributions to the field are what mean that most to me.