#mary x sam x dean

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Auntie Row

Rowena & Winchester little sister!reader, team free will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Rowena has a soft spot for the Winchester’s little sister, and they get into lots of trouble together (I suck at synopsis, just read the fic it’s better)

Warnings: honestly nothing, time frame makes no sense with reader’s age but 🤷‍♀️

“Rowena, what do you think you’re doing?”

The witch looked up in surprise when the Winchester brothers entered.

“Sammy!” You, the brothers’ six-year-old sister, ran straight to your big brother and giggled when he lifted you into his arms.

“Oh, you’re back,” Rowena said, cringing. “That was quick.”

“Auntie Row is teaching me how to do magic, like Hermione!” You babbled excitedly.

“Rowena…” Dean growled in warning.

“Now now, she’s a growing girl!” Rowena defended herself. “Learning magic is a perfectly natural part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam scoffed.

“But Sammy!” You whined.

“Nu-uh,” Sam shook his head. “C’mon, it’s about time you had a nap.” He carried you out without another word to Rowena, who huffed dramatically and started to gather her belongings.

“When we said you could watch Y/N—“ Dean began, but Rowena cut him off.

“I know you didn’t mean this, but honestly Dean Winchester, how d’you expect the girl to defend herself if she can’t use magic?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “We’ll protect her.”

“Oh honestly, you can’t be around her all the time! If she had magic, she could—“

“For the last time Rowena; no.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Uh, guys.” Sam returned to the room with a slight frown on his face. “Y/N said she wants Rowena to continue her story from last night. She’s refusing to sleep without it.”

“Well,” Rowena smirked. “Duty calls.”

“Hey.” Dean caught Rowena by the arm, and she glared at him. “Magic always comes with a price. I don’t want her to have to pay it.”

Rowena softened.

“I understand, Dean Winchester.”

His grip slackened, and Rowena left to go to you.

…

“I have a little something for you,” Rowena said as she stepped into your room.

“Can we finish the story?” You asked.

“Of course, sweet girl, of course. But first, I want to show you something. You remember that cursed necklace from the story? The one that protected the witch from the angry mob?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded excitedly.

“Well, I think it’s time it protected someone else.” Rowena grinned, unclasping the necklace that was hidden behind her shirt and carefully putting it on you.

“Really?” Your eyes went wide as you stared up at the witch.

“Yes. That will protect you from anyone who wants to harm you. That way you don’t have to use any magic, just like your brothers said.”

“Thank you, Auntie Row,” you breathed sincerely, reverence painting your tone as you admired the glowing red jewel.

Rowena leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You’re very welcome, sweet thing. Now, let’s finish that story, shall we?”

…

“Kiddo, please, it’s just for a few days,” Sam tried to soothe you, but you still wouldn’t let go of his leg and continued to cry. “Mary’s gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

“I could really help you guys on this one,” Mary argued.

“She needs someone to watch her,” Dean reasoned.

“And why am I the automatic choice?” Mary countered.

“You two are not helping,” Sam said through gritted teeth as he picked you up, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. He hated Mary’s distance from you; you were John’s, but not hers. He understood her reason for not getting close to you, but you were just a little kid, and you didn’t deserve that. Sam just rubbed your back, still trying to soothe you as you continued to sniffle.

“If you boys needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

The three adults turned in surprise at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

“I mean honestly, it’s not like I haven’t babysat before.”

Dean was hesitant. “I don’t know if—“

“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, going to grab her duffel. She tossed over her shoulder, “now I can help on the hunt!”

“Am I gonna stay with Auntie Row?” You asked Sam, your eyes wide and pleading.

“I…yeah honey, you are,” Sam sighed.

“Yay!” You grinned, wiping your tears away and squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Ok, ok,” Sam chuckled, lowering you to the ground so you could run to Rowena for a hug. “It’s probably best that you guys don’t stay in the bunker.” Sam directed his next words at the witch holding his little sister. “The bunker’s system still goes a little wonky with a witch inside, so one of your safe houses is probably a better idea.”

“That works for me.” Rowena grinned. “How would you like to go to Paris, sweet thing?” She asked you.

“This is a horrible idea,” Dean sighed. But he still grabbed his bag and headed out to Baby anyway.

…

“We’re back!” Sam called as he stepped into the bunker.

“Sammy! De!” You squealed, running to your big brothers and reaching them just as they came down the stairs. Dean scooped you into his arms and held you tight, comforted to see such a happy sight after such a grueling hunt.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, noticing your outfit.

“Auntie Row took me to shops in Paris, and we got a lot of clothes!” You babbled excitedly as Dean let Sam pull you into his arms.

“You’re spoiling her, Rowena,” Dean chuckled, no longer quite so hesitant about the witch now that he saw how happy you were.

“And she deserves every bit of it,” Rowena said.

…

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry darling, but you must sit still!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sam asked curiously as he stepped into your room to see you and Rowena sitting in front of your vanity.

“I’m trying to do her hair, but she won’t stop squirming,” Rowena explained, running a little pink brush through your hair.

“It’s all knotty!” You whined.

“Well it won’t be in a minute,” Rowena said.

Sam just smiled as he watched you, finally getting experiences that you’d never had before; motherly experiences.

The more he watched, though, the more he noticed how much you were squirming, and how much you seemed to be whining.

“Hey, you seem kinda grumpy, kid. Did you get a nap today?” He asked, coming to stand beside you and Rowena.

“Yeah,” you sniffled.

“You’re kinda pale,” he muttered under his breath, getting on one knee and reaching the back of his hand out to touch your forehead. “Jeez kid, you’re burning up.”

“She’s ill?” Rowena put the brush down and turned your chair around so you were facing her, repeating Sam’s gesture and checking your temperature. “She is quite hot.”

“Hey, let’s get you into some pjs, ok?” Sam suggested, lifting you into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

“I already had a nap!” You insisted, squirming in Sam’s arms.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case,” Dean said, stepping into your room. “Something wrong?”

“She’s got a fever,” Sam sighed. “You should go without me.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rowena spoke up. “Just leave her with me.”

“I don’t want to leave her when she’s sick,” Sam argued.

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll give her some herbs and she’ll be out like a light, she’ll sleep until you get back.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sighed.

“How about this,” Rowena said. “You put her to bed, and leave once she’s asleep. I’ll watch over her, and I’ll call you if she worsens.”

“Alright.” Sam looked at you. “Is that ok kiddo?”

You nodded sleepily, suddenly not so eager to fight another nap.

“Sammy, my tummy hurts,” you whimpered.

Sam nearly melted at this, more reluctant than ever to leave you.

“I know sweetheart, c’mon let’s get you into some pjs and then you can go to sleep, ok?”

Sam helped you get dressed while Dean packed for the hunt. It didn’t take long to have you tucked into bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sam lingered in your doorway, unsure about leaving you like this.

“She’ll be fine,” Rowena soothed the Winchester brother. “She’s asleep, and I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag that Dean had packed him. “Just…take care of her, ok?”

“Always,” Rowena responded.

And she did. When the Winchester brothers returned, your fever had broken and you were resting on the couch with Rowena, some cartoon playing on the tv.

“Hello boys,” she greeted when she saw them.

“Hey kid.” Sam went straight to you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Are you feeling any better?”

Rowena went to speak to Dean while you answered Sam with a distracted “yeah,” continuing to watch your cartoon.

“Her fever broke,” she explained to him. “I think it’s best if she rests a bit more, though.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Dean said sincerely. “She really seems to like you.”

Rowena smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

…

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked you.

You nodded, finally pulling your gaze from the cartoon.

“Yeah, I like Auntie Row!”

Sam smiled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[fanfictionalraven]

Sleep Without You

Title: Sleep Without You

Song Inspiration: Sleep Without You by Brett Young

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen, Mary, Jody, Donna, Charlie

Word Count: 2,082

Warnings: Reader gets drunk, fluff

Author’s Note: This story is not canon compliant because I prefer my characters alive and happy.

“Do not make us come in there and take her, Dean,” Jody says through your bedroom door. You throw your head back and laugh from where you’re standing over the bathroom sink. Dean rolls his eyes from where he’d been watching you get ready. He walks over to the door and pulls it open with a dramatic huff.

“I’m not holding her hostage,” he tells the small group of women he finds waiting. Jody looks past him and you stick your head out of the bathroom.

“I’m almost ready. Sorry,” you apologize. Donna looks between the two of you suspiciously.

“There was definitely some hanky-panky going on here,” she says. Dean rolls his eyes again and walks back over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. You laugh but blush despite yourself. She wasn’t wrong. The second Dean had seen you in the little red dress, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

“Honestly, I’ll meet you at the car in five minutes,” you tell them. Eileen laughs and nudges the two other women down the hall, sending a wink back at you before she disappears herself. You quickly slip into a strappy pair of matching red heels and can feel Dean’s eyes still on you. “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything!!” He says, defensively.

“No, but you’re thinking about it,” you laugh. Standing to your full height, you hold your arms out and turn in a slow circle. “Alright. How do I look?”

“Too damn good,” he compliments. You smile as you step over to him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Don’t get to see you all dolled up like this too often. Without it being for a case at least.”

“I know. This is actually so…normal,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “A bachelorette party.”

“Can’t believe they’re actually getting married,” Dean muses.

“Little Sammy’s all grown up,” you tease, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “Least this time he got my blessing.” You laugh and shake your head. “You should go before the search party comes back.” Leaning down, you give him a quick kiss.

“Don’t wait up,” you tell him. He laughs lightly and gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t party too hard,” he says. You can’t help but laugh again.

“The party consists of the bride-to-be, myself, your mother, two officers of the law who might as well be your mother and your aunt, and a lesbian. I make no promises,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. He gives you a smile and shakes his head.

“Sammy and I will work on the bail money,” he jokes.

“Much appreciated,” you laugh and take a step back for him to stand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you tenderly. The two of you stand there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Y/N!” Mary calls your name as she comes down the hallway.

“Whoops! They sent the big guns this time,” you say, stepping away from Dean. He laughs as he follows you to the door and leans against the frame, crossing his arms.

“Be careful. Have fun,” he says as Mary takes you by the elbow. You wink back at Dean and give him a wave as you stumble along behind his mother.

***

“Don’t wait up.”

Those had been your instructions to Dean. He had tried to follow them. He knew you all would be out late so he made a valiant effort to turn in for the night around 12:30. The scent of your shampoo on the pillow next to him was too much to bear.

At 12:35, he made his way back to the library and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Sitting back in one of the chairs, he pulls his phone out and smiles at the picture of you grinning back at him.

At 12:40, Sam wanders back into the library. He pauses when he sees his older brother. Dean looks up at him and chuckles.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He asks. Sam shakes his head as he walks over and sits across from Dean who pours a second glass. “What was it for you?” Sam swirls the glass slowly and cuts his eyes up at his brother.

“She usually plays with my hair while I go to sleep,” he admits, a bit embarrassed. Dean smiles and shakes his head, taking a drink. “You?”

“Pillow smelled too damn much like her,” he says, as though it were completely obvious. Now it’s Sam’s turn to shake his head.

“What happened to us?” He laughs. Dean shrugs, glancing back at his phone screen. “I mean…I’m getting married in a couple weeks. What?”

“Nah. I always saw that for you,” Dean says, looking at his younger brother. Sam gives him a skeptical look. Dean shrugs in response. “Hoped for it at least. You deserve it.”

“Just not with Becky?” Sam asks, trying not to smile.

“Eileen is a much better choice. Hands down,” Dean laughs. Sam laughs as well.

The two brothers sit in silence for a little while, each taking sips from their respective glasses. Sam watches his brother pour himself another glass before finally speaking again.

“You deserve it too, ya know,” Sam says simply. Dean looks at him curiously. “Your relationship with Y/N. Being happy and…and loved.”

“I haven’t done a thing to deserve Y/N loving me the way she does,” he says. Sam frowns but Dean gives him a smile. “And yet she keeps on doing it anyways.”

“I understand that,” Sam agrees, raising his glass slightly. Another silent moment passes as Sam gathers the courage to ask his next question. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Marriage,” Sam says, making some elaborate, grand gesture with his hands. Dean laughs at Sam’s awkwardness and looks into his glass again.

“I was about ready to ask Mom for her ring but, ugh…someone beat me to it,” he says, smiling at Sam now. Sam’s eyes widen quickly.

“Oh!! Dean, I’m sorry,” he rattles off quickly. Dean laughs and holds a hand up.

“It’s fine. You got to it first, fair and square,” he says, standing and walking across the library. He stops at a lockbox sitting on one of the shelves and quickly puts in a combination. Sam watches his brother, curiously, as Dean removes something from the box. “Had to hustle a hell of a lot of pool but…” He walks back to his seat and holds up a simple but beautiful diamond ring. Sam stares it for a moment before looking at his brother, wide eyed.

“How long have you had that?” He asks. Dean shrugs, examining the ring between his fingers.

“Bought it about two weeks after you asked Eileen,” Dean recounts. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. Almost asked Mom, like I said. I just wasn’t sure if Y/N would go for it. What we have now is one thing. Marriage is whole other one. Then when you asked Eileen…I could see it in her eyes.”

“That was months ago. Why haven’t you asked her yet?” Sam questions.

“Didn’t wanna feel like I was just copying you or trying to steal anyone’s thunder,” Dean explains, going back to the box. “I’ll give it a little time. Let you and Eileen have your moment. Then I’ll ask.”

“Neither of us would care. We’d be thrilled for you both,” Sam tells him. Dean smiles and shrugs, putting the ring away again. He closes the box and relocks it.

“I’ve waited this long. A few more weeks won’t hurt,” Dean says. Sam smiles a little and nods as Dean comes back to his seat. Dean stretches and looks at his phone again. “Now, the real question…is when are you two gonna make me an uncle?” Sam sputters on his drink, quickly setting the glass down. Dean roars with laughter as the door to the war room opens up.

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play…and the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate…but I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake…shake it off, shake it off…” You, Eileen, and Charlie all come in singing together, arms around each other. You all three stumble through a few very uncoordinated hip shimmies.

“Dear God. They are wasted,” Dean laughs. Mary runs around in front of your small choir and heads you off at the stairs.

“A little help?” She calls down to her sons. The two brothers get up quickly and make their way up the stairs. Sam wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and starts to help her down the stairs as she giggles. Mary assists Charlie who grips the handrail as the room starts to spin on her. You cross your arms as Dean comes over to you.

“I told you not to wait up,” you scold him. He laughs and shakes his head, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I tried, promise. Turns out I just can’t sleep without my girl,” he says, pulling you closer quickly. You let out a squeal as you stumble and fall into him. Before you have a second to process what’s happening, Dean scoops you up into his arms and starts to carry you down the stairs.

“I could have walked,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck. He rolls his eyes at your protest.

“You wouldn’t have made it two steps,” he teases. “I’ll put you down if you want.”

“No!!” You exclaim, tightening your arms slightly. He laughs and nods.

“That’s what I thought.”

“These three,” Mary says, pointing between all three of you. “Are not allowed to go out drinking again.”

“Herding cats?” Sam asks. Mary scoffs a laugh.

“Cats would have been easier,” she says. Dean looks down at you and smirks.

“Did you not behave for Mom?” He asks. Your shoulders bob up and down as you smile at him coyly.

“Why? You gonna punish me?” You ask with a wink.

“Oh my God,” Mary mutters, quickly leading a still dizzy Charlie towards the hall. Dean laughs wildly as he goes to follow.

“You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” he says. He glances back at Sam and finds Eileen gently running her fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight, little brother.” Sam looks up at him and smiles.

“You too.”

Dean carries you down to your bedroom and tosses you on to the bed, eliciting another squeal from you. You kick off your heels as he goes through the dresser, finding one of his old t-shirts you’d claimed ages ago. He helps you change out of your dress and into the shirt with ease. You fall back onto the bed with a huff and close your eyes.

“Hold on,” Dean says, going into the bathroom. He comes back out a second later with a makeup wipe and sits next to you on the bed. You giggle as he gently and carefully wipes your makeup away. “What’s so funny?”

“Big, bad, monster-killing, Dean Winchester is taking my makeup off for me,” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“You’d be pissed in the morning if you woke up with all this still on,” he says. He takes extra care around your eyes before finally finishing. “There.” He tosses the wipe into a nearby trash can.

Dean lays down on the bed next to you and you immediately roll over to face him, moving into his side. He lays an arm across your waist, pulling you even closer. Kissing your hair, he breathes in your scent and sighs. You giggle again.

“What now?” He asks.

“You love me,” you say. Dean laughs softly and nods, pushing your hair from your face.

“Yea, I do,” he agrees. You break into a wide grin as you close your eyes. “In fact, I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.” You giggle again and nod.

“I get to be the bachelorette next time,” you say. He laughs again and kisses your forehead.

“Mom’s gonna be thrilled.”

The next morning, Dean has aspirin and water ready by the bed for you when you wake up. You remember nothing from the majority of the night before, especially anything from when you all returned to the bunker. But when you catch the bouquet at Sam and Eileen’s wedding and see the look on Dean’s face, a fragment of a conversation comes back to you.

I’m gonna marry you, Y/N.

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

[asbeel]

I imagine Dean is protective as shit of his pie

Like he is hissing and scratching at anyone who even attempts to poke a fork into his pie

So if he lets you to reach out and eat a bit of his pie, it's a sign of respect

If he willingly hands you a slice of pie? Youre the fucking world to him

People I think Dean would let eat a bit of his pie:

- Mary Winchester

- Jack Kline

- Garth Fitzgerald

- Ellen Harvelle

- Kevin Tran

- Jody Mills

- Lisa Braeden

- Sam

People I think Dean would give a slice of pie to:

- himself (obviously)

- Sam (but he always refuses cos he's a health nut)

- Castiel

- Bobby

- Benny

- Charlie (sister energy)

- Jo (sister energy again [wdym they kissed they're literally siblings])

- Claire

- Eileen (as like a "ur my sister in law now" vibe)

- Missouri (fr she deserves some)

- Ben Braeden

I really wanted to add Crowley to this list but it's just the sad truth that Dean wouldn't trust him to be within 90ft of pie

And yes, John Winchester isn't on here. His ass does NOT deserve pie

[adhd-as-my-personality]

A little fun fact I noticed. Dean is all Mary, the way he eats, drives, deals with emotions.

So imagine losing your wife to something you can’t even begin to comprehend and then having two raise two little boys all by yourself. Then one of them turns out to be a replica of his mother, reminding you of the wife you lost. Then imagine being a sad excuse of a parent and then leave the kid to himself acting as a mother and father to his younger brother.

Dean wanted to be like his father all his life and yet he was grief stricken over loosing both of his parents and still did what was right for his brother. John Winchester can only dream of being half the mean Dean is. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[decayinabottle]

I don't understand how people can really say that John was a good dad to Adam when he hurt all of his sons,just in different ways.

He neglected all of them but since Mary died he HAD to take care of Sam and Dean,but Adam had his mother who took care of him while John was on his hunting trips and he could use it as an excuse to not take care of Adam but like I said,Sam and Dean were alone all the time AND Dean had to become the "Mary" of the family.

[spn-lesbian]

Sam: I'm planning a wedding

Mary: whose?

Sam: Dean and Cas'

Mary: they're engaged?!

Sam: they will be

[deanwinchesterscherrypie]

Inescapable

Kinktober Day 1: Dom/sub

Summary:

(Inspired by Dress by Taylor Swift) Dean, Cas, and Sam go on a small local ghost hunt while you stay at home. While you get the bunker prepared for them to come home, you can't stop thinking about your dom. Dean specifically ordered you to not be thinking of him while he's gone, but you can't help it. You miss him, and when he gets home, you think you'll show him just how much.

Words: 3,919

Kinks: Dom/sub, Rope play, light degradation, teasing, spanking, punishment

Relationship: Dom Dean/Sub Fem Reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (only in the first paragraph), mentions of a knife, smut, cunnilingus, p in v sex, fingering, dominant dean winchester

Notes: Read here on ao3! Full Kinktober Masterlist. I hope you enjoy :)

Dean. Cas, and Sam left Friday evening for a ghost hunt. Apparently, Old Man Milton only comes back once every 7 years on his daughter’s birthday to kill young men that sexually assault or harass young women. His daughter died by a violent sexual assault and was found in the basement of a fraternity house. He searched for the boy that did it to her, but the college covered it up. Now, he’s coming back for justice. You told Dean that they shouldn’t do anything. If it were your hunt, you would have left it alone. Those guys deserved to die, in your opinion. And maybe that makes you a bad person, but honestly, you’ve literally been to hell and back. You don’t really care if wishing a painful death on rapists is a bad thing. 

The only reason you didn’t attend this hunt with the boys is because the whole topic was just a little too triggering for you. Dean suggested you stay home, and Cas agreed that the emotional trauma it brought up wouldn’t be worth getting rid of the ghost. Sam offered to stay home with you, but Cas isn’t the best hunting partner when it comes to these small hunts. So, Dean asked if you’d be alright and insisted that Sam come with him. Cas is always one call away if you need anything, and you know that. 

On Sunday morning, you get ready to start your day with brushing your hair, doing your makeup, and picking out an outfit. You don’t have much to choose from, because it’s laundry day you’re washing all of the boys clothes along with yours. It’s kind of annoying that they expect you to do their laundry, and you pointed out once that you thought it was misogynistic to expect the only woman in the home to do laundry. But Dean came back with the argument that you were only doing laundry when they were out on a hunt without you. If they were the one staying home, they would do the laundry and you wouldn’t mind. Sam offered to do his own, but it didn’t actually bother you too much. You think that Dean’s just saying it to get you to do it, but you let them have it because he said it with a really cute face and puppy dog eyes. And they do so much for you that doing some laundry or cooking a meal isn’t going to kill you. You don’t exactly like falling into gender roles, but something about them being so appreciative every Sunday night when you make dinner and have them change into clean clothes is so sweet. 

So, you pick out your outfit: a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s flannels because it’s the only thing that smells like him, but doesn’t have blood on it. You take his load to the wash first, because you know when he gets home, you’ll make him change into clean clothes. You put on some music first. You listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin while he’s gone because it reminds you of him. Before he left, as always, he told you not to think of him too much. In a normal relationship, that would be sweet. A request. But in yours and Dean‘s relationship, it was a demand. Every hunt he went on scared you, every time he left the bunker, a chill ran down your spine. You wondered if you would ever see him again. You try not to think like that, and he demands you don’t think of him at all. You don’t listen. You never do. He knows this, and he’ll punish you when he gets home. That’s sometimes why you think of him. You enjoy the punishment. It’s nice when he takes control when he gets home. 

You finish putting his clothes in the laundry and go to the kitchen to prepare dinner for when they get home. It’s your week to prepare dinner on Sunday night. Every Sunday, you make everyone have a family meal at a table. Hunters don’t get to have a normal life, so this is as normal as it gets for you. You don’t have long before they get back, so you pull out all of the necessary ingredients and set them on the counter. Normally, you’d also be doing some research while they were gone. But this hunt specifically was one that lacked research and needed more gumption than Dean could ever gather. As you’re swaying to the music in the kitchen, the song “Dress” by Taylor Swift plays through your phone speaker. This song reminds you of Dean, but in a way that’s more playful than sexy. He likes Taylor Swift, your favorite artist, but he won’t admit it. Sometimes, you catch him listening to her in the shower, but he thinks you don’t know. Sometimes, you see him adding a song of hers to his playlist. As the lyrics ring through your head this time around, you can’t help but think about how teasing it would be for Dean to come home to tear your clothes off. He always requests that when he gets home, you are in bed with no clothes. You enjoy this usually, but tonight you’re feeling a little extra. 

You prepare the food, so all you have to do is cook them. You make homemade burger patties that need to chill, sourdough bread that needs to chill to make buns, and a pastry crust for the pie. You clean up and grab your keys. Before Bobby passed, he built up a car for you out of some old parts. It was a crap car, but it barely cost you. Bobby had a soft spot for you, so he would fix the car up for you anytime it broke down or something happened. Unfortunately, when he died, you had nobody to fix up your car. It was just your luck that you remembered meeting Dean Winchester, a friend of Bobby’s, a few years back. He and his brother were well known hunters, so you didn’t think he would have the time to help. But any shop would tell you that the car was more to fix than it was actually worth. They said it was unsafe and shouldn’t be driven. They didn’t have the memories you had with that car though. So you gave him a call, and you were lucky that he was in the next town over just finishing up a case. You two haven’t left each other alone since. 

You head toward a town close by to find exactly what you are looking for. You stop into a few stores before you find exactly what you wanted. A short, white sundress, complete with a cherry print scattered across the fabric. You check the price tag because unlike other hunters, you try to earn honest money when you can. You save as much as you can and invest some of it. The dress is on sale, which just lets you know it’s meant to be. 

You check out and head back to the bunker to get ready and prepare dinner. When you walk inside, you hear a ding on your phone. You pull it from your pocket to see a text from Dean. 

We’re on our way home, Sweetheart. About an hour out. Be ready. - DW

It’s funny that he signs his initials with every text, but it’s his thing. It’s how you know it’s really him. He told you to be ready, but you should really be the one telling him to be ready….

Yes, sir. 

You go to the kitchen and begin cooking the burgers. Cas doesn’t have an appetite, but he still sits at the table with us. He always compliments the food, even though he doesn’t actually eat it. His description of food is that it “all tastes like molecules” to him. But nevertheless, Sam and Dean still enjoy it when you cook. After the burgers are cooked, you put them on a pan to keep warm and take out the dough. You make some rolls and put them on a pan to bake. The pie will cook while you’re eating, so you go ahead and head toward your bedroom to change. 

You put on your new dress and put your hair up with some loose curls falling down. You touch up your makeup a little bit and add some red lipstick. It’s Dean’s favorite and it matches your dress perfectly. You spray on some Tom Ford’s “Lost Cherry” and make your way back to the kitchen. You check your watch and see that it will be about half an hour until they get home, which is perfect timing to go ahead and put in the rolls and start preparing the pie. 

Soon, the whole bunker smells like fresh bread and sweet, cherry pie. You put all of the clean laundry in the rooms. You set the table with a whiskey glass in front of both Dean and Sam’s seats and a courtesy glass of water in Castiel’s spot. You put a wine glass in front of your seat, and pull out the rolls to replace them with the cherry pie. You take out all the extra condiments for the burgers and put the sides on the table. The locks of the bunker do a familiar click, and you know it’s game on. You hear the low chatter of the boys discussing the familiar scent wafting from the kitchen. 

Sam walks in and sees the set table. He waves the other guys into the kitchen. 

“Is it Sunday already? Man, I’m hungry!” Sam goes to pull out a chair before your hand catches his. 

“You boys go wash up first. I don’t want blood and sulfur at my dinner table. Your clothes are in your rooms. Dinner in 5.” You smile and pat his hand. He laughs a little before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing a little bit. You smack his chest gently, and he laughs and saunters off to change. Dean’s heated gaze is focused on your legs, or more importantly, how much of them he can see. Your apron falls below your dress, and when you’re turned to the side, he can see that your dress barely covers your ass. He groans low to himself and raises his eyes to meet yours. Cas speaks up. 

“Thank you for putting together dinner. I appreciate it.” He smiles awkwardly before the dirt and blood disappears from his outfit. He hangs his overcoat on the rack in the corner and then settles into his spot. Dean’s gaze hasn’t left you, and you know exactly why. 

“All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation.” 

“Something wrong, love?” You ask with your most precious voice. You know he won’t say anything in front of Cas. He treats him like a toddler, his child that he must watch over. It’s adorable, but at the same time, he watches himself around Cas. He doesn't want him repeating things. Dean doesn’t reply, but his face looks pained. You smile and wave him off to his room to get changed. He obliges, but you can see the tension in his back as he walks away. 

“Dean seems stressed. We got rid of the ghost. Why is he upset?” Cas asks you as you make Sam’s plate. 

“Because his wife is his wildest dream, and he’s mad he has to eat dinner first.” Sam laughs as he walks out in fresh clothes. He sits at the table and smiles up at you. “I mean seriously, come on, he came home to his wife dressed up with his favorite dinner made and pie in the oven.”

“But why would that stress him out? Shouldn’t he be happy that he has the terribly domestic life he wished for?” Cas asks as you plate the food in front of him. He won’t eat it, but he likes to have a plate to feel involved.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean walks to the table, “can you three stop talking about me like I ain’t here? I am not stressed. I am exhausted from a three day long hunt. Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Dean’s gaze shoots up at you as he sits down. You plate his food next, and then, your own. You sit down and everyone eats in silence. 

The conversation starts flowing once everyone starts getting full, and then, it’s time to take out the pie. You head over to the oven, which is right next to Dean’s seat, and bend down to get the pie out. Your dress rides up right next to him, so he can see your cunt soaking your white lace underwear. He groans and attempts to cover it up with a cough. You chuckle a little to yourself and set the pie down on the table. You take the boys plates and put them in the sink. 

“Sam, don’t forget. It’s your day to do dishes.” You nudge his shoulder. You set out more plates and serve up the cherry pie to Dean and onto your own plate. You are on one side of Dean, so you scoop up Sam’s piece and lean over Dean to place the pie on Sam’s plate. Sam shakes his head and chuckles to himself before digging in. Cas wanders off to the library. You sit back in your seat and take a bite of your pie. Some of the cherry juice drips off of your lip and onto your chest, where Dean’s gaze falls. You swipe your finger across the juice and stick it into your mouth. Your eyes close in ecstasy, and you make a small noise of happiness. Dean has yet another cough, and you open your eyes to watch him. He hasn’t even touched his pie.

“Dean, you haven’t touched your pie?” You ask him sweetly.

“Dude, it’s delicious. You picked the right woman.” Sam says as he goes back for seconds.

Dean nods his head and picks up his fork with shaking hands. 

“My hands are shaking from holding back from you.”

You all continue to eat before you both hand your plates to Sam to wash. You bid goodnight to Sam and Cas before heading to your room with Dean hot on your heels. You barely make it through the door before he catches your wrist in his hand and closes the door behind him with his foot.

“You disobeyed me.” He states. His eyes pierce yours with pure lust and determination.

“I made dinner.” You counter, reminding him that it was your week to make dinner.

“You know the rules, sweetheart. You know what happens when you break the rules.” A glint appears in his eyes, and suddenly, he begins walking toward you slowly. The backs of your knees hit the bed, and you fall backward onto the soft cushioning. “Tell me what happens when you break the rules, love.” His voice commands. 

“I get punished, sir.” You let out with a bit of excitement. 

“Oh, were you looking forward to this?” He chuckles deeply, “Of course you were. My pretty little slut loves it when I show her who she belongs to and where her place is.” 

“Yes, sir.” You nod your head and raise your hips toward him as he climbs in between your legs.

“Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please touch me.” You ask, waiting for his touch. 

He chuckles deeply again before pulling his knife from his pocket. You back up a little before his hand comes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. 

“Don’t run away from me, sweetheart. You just asked me to touch you.” His smirk says it all. “Do you remember your safeword?” He asks in your ear. 

“Yes. Cherries.” You giggle a little at the word and how significant it’s made itself today.

“That’s my good girl.” He says as he places the knife down on the nightstand next to your head. “Sit up.” 

You sit up quickly and wait for your next instruction. You don’t always have such an intense dynamic, but you both need intense when you’ve been apart for a while. 

“Over my knee.” You shiver at his words, but do as you are told. He lifts the skirt of your dress and rubs over the smooth skin of your ass. 

“How many do you think you deserve, darling?” He says to you as he runs his finger over the lacy fabric of your underwear. 

“I don’t know, sir.” You say to him while you try to grind your hips into his legs. He lays a smack on your ass, leaving a stinging feeling. 

“I think ten is fair. Two for thinking of me while I was gone, four for wearing this slutty little dress, two for teasing me at dinner, and two for grinding yourself against my leg.” You shiver again and nod your head in response. He lifts your chin and gets down in front of your face. 

“Words.” He whispers and bites your lip. 

“Yes, sir.” You bow your head as he lets go. His fingers travel downward until he reaches the soaking spot in the center of your underwear and presses in. 

“Oh, your pretty hole is so wet for me. I can’t wait to use you.” You whine as he retracts his hand. 

“Don’t make a sound or I start over. Got it?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as he speaks to you. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He lays the first smack and your body jumps in response. You feel your hole squeeze the nothingness. You know you’re in for it, and you just hope that he’ll have mercy on you and touch you soon. 

“Nine more.” You breathe in slowly, preparing yourself for nine more. 

Smack. You just want him to touch you. 

Smack. You’re getting desperate. 

Smack. Soon, you’re going to start begging. 

Smack. You don’t know if you can handle more.

Smack. It feels so good, but it hurts. 

Smack. Almost there. 

Smack. You’re going to come. 

“I know I don’t feel you grinding on my leg, do I sweetheart?” He chuckles before laying two smacks back to back. You let out a sound that is a cross between a moan and a cry. 

“Tsk tsk, what did I tell you about making sounds?” He asks you gently. 

“We- would have to start over.” You whine. “Please Dean, don’t make me.” You beg. 

“What did you just call me?” His hand wraps itself around the back of your neck and pulls you toward him.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You look up at him with pleading eyes. He looks back at you with pure satisfaction. You can feel his cock that's been growing beneath you this whole time twitch at the sight of you. 

“Two more.” He says, and he means it. You groan lightly, and you hear his light laugh at you. 

One. It stings, but he was more gentle than before. 

Two. That one is going to leave a mark. 

“Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.” 

“Good girl. Sit up.” He helps you forward and reaches beneath the bed. He grabs two pieces of rope that you don’t remember putting there. He smiles mischievously when he sees your confusion and scoots you up the bed. “Arms.” 

You put your arms up and he ties each arm to the holes in the headboard. That is not what you were expecting, but you aren’t complaining. That is, until he rips your dress off of your body straight down the middle. 

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off.” 

“Dean! That dress was new.” You look at him with shock. 

“Well, I hope it wasn’t expensive.” He smirks a bit before dragging your underwear down your legs. 

“Please.” You push your hips up to him. 

“Please what?” He asks, his breath grazing over your slick cunt. 

“Please touch me.” You ask. 

“My pathetic little slut wants me to touch her pretty cunt? You want me to lick your pretty clit?” He spreads you apart until you’re completely exposed to him and glistening in the dim bunker light. 

“Yes, sir.” 

And that’s when he takes his change to shove his tongue deep inside your hole. He fucks you with his tongue, occasionally slipping his tongue out of your hole and circling around your clit. You can feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. His scruff scratches the inside of your thighs, and you just want to tangle your fingers in his hair. He flicks your clit quickly and shoves a finger inside of you. 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” He asks as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue feels so good as he continues his gentle assault on your clit. He moves in quick circles. Every now and then, he sucks your clit into his mouth. He slows his fingers and fucks you slow and hard. You like it like this, feeling every bit of him. His fingers curl up inside you to rub on that spot. 

“Fuck.” You can’t help the sounds that come from your chest. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby. See, this is what good girls get when they behave.” He taunts you, moving his thumb to your clit and his mouth to your sensitive nipples. 

You start riding his fingers harder, chasing the orgasm that his fingers are promising you. You close your eyes in pleasure. 

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see me when you come.” He says, watching your every emotion. He switches out his fingers for his thick cock. He rubs the tip against your sensitive clit and has you whining for it. He pushes into you slowly, but that’s the only time he’s slow about it. He rams into you and fucks you hard. He is relentless and merciless. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, only I can make you make those sounds.” He whispers in your ear. Your arms pull against the ropes, but you’re unsuccessful at breaking them. You buck your hips toward him as you chase your orgasm. He starts rubbing your clit, and you feel it coming on. 

“Come for me.” He whispers in your ear as you let loose the orgasm that's been building inside of you. Your legs shake a bit and your back arches off of the bed. 

“Good girl.” He says as he slips his cock out and pumps it a few more times before rolling his head back and letting out a groan as he comes on your stomach. You love watching him come at the sight of you. 

He reaches forward to the nightstand next to you and grabs the knife. You look at him with confusion until he leans forward to your wrist. You realize he’s going to cut you out of the rope. You hear a scratching noise and attempt to look above you, but you can’t see. Suddenly, he cuts both of the ropes and lets your arms free. You rub your wrists and turn to see what he was doing. On your headboard, there is freshly engraved statement: 

Property of D.W. 

“Carve your name into my bedpost.”  

You put on a shirt of his and snuggle into your bed with him. He cuts the lights out, and as you’re drifting off to sleep, you swear you hear him singing Dress by Taylor Swift. 

[pascaloverx]

Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and future adult content.

preview chapter two

CHAPTER ONE

You never imagined yourself knocking on Dean Winchester's door. I mean, you don't count having had dreams about him that involved you getting to know each other intimately. But going to his apartment to ask for help wasn't in your plans.

"I need you." You say softly as if telling someone a secret. Maybe your speech sounds like a whisper. Dean's obviously not hearing you properly, because he's humming Livin' On A Prayer as the song plays inside his apartment at full volume.

"What?" Dean says almost shouting as he looks me up and down. He looks confused like he doesn't hear you at all. You then decide to do something. You approach Dean almost seductively and say close to his ear that he won't regret it if he turns down the volume.

"Does your sister know you're here trying to get me into bed?" Dean asks as he turns off the music that was playing. Nothing against Bon Jovi, but seeing Dean turn off the sound for thinking he's going to sleep with you kind of lifts your spirits.

"If I were going to let you fuck me, I wouldn't ask my sister's opinion. I don't think you ask Sam's opinion when you decide to have sex." You speak while still standing, hoping that Dean will notice that he is only in his underwear and change into more decent clothes.

"You come over to my house, make me turn off my music and now I've suggested that I ask my brother if I can have sex. This conversation seems better by the minute." Dean speaks clearly enjoying this moment. You end up looking at his body from top to bottom but as soon as he notices, you turn to face the door.

"I need your help." You say while avoiding looking at Dean. He might have noticed, since he put on some pants. Not that you watched him put it on.

"With what?" Dean asks as you turn to face him. He put on his pants but is still shirtless. But now is not the time for you to notice these things. Even though his body is...

"I need to write steamy scenes in my book. But I just can't do it. It's like I can't think of anything sexy and I need to get this book published soon." The words coming out of your mouth don't seem to fully fit together. I mean, what is wrong with you that you would look to Dean Winchester for help?

"And what do I gain? Helping you will take up a lot of my free time, you know..." He seems too convinced, as if his ego could fill the air in the entire apartment.

"Free time? You mean wasted time. You've been living off your rich mother for I don't know how long. And I intend to pay you for the consultancy." You say everything with a certain pretentiousness in your tone of voice. Somehow, Dean Winchester brought out the worst in you.

"Do you think that just because I have a rich mother my life is easy?" Dean says, getting even closer to you, getting so close that you could smell his perfume invade your nostrils. In fact, Dean Winchester smells like men's perfume and sex.

"I think. Maybe it's not the easiest thing for you but it seems easy. So do it as an personal fulfillment, do it for the money, do it to show your mother that you are more than her son." You say feeling a heavy conscience as you realize that maybe you were rude to Dean, maybe even a little unfair.

"Nice attempt to manipulate me. I'm going to deny the offer and urgently ask you to leave my apartment. I'm accompanied and my visitor should be waiting for me in the room. So there's less you want to insult me ​​more or join me and my visit, I suggest you go to your apartment." Dean looks offended, maybe a little irritated. You look at him a little regretfully.

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude. But I would really like your help and I'm willing to give you whatever you want." You say, desperately trying to appeal to the side you know exists within Dean. He might not even notice, but claiming you're willing to give him whatever he wants is just a lure to make him interested. At least that's what you tell yourself. But it doesn't seem to work, he closes the door just as you're about to cross the hallway that separates his apartment from your sister's. What a disaster, now you'll have to stop being a writer and move on to a new field. You can't live forever with your sister.

"Be in my apartment later. Let's start working on your book. And I'll decide what I get for the help I'm giving you. As you said yourself, you'll give me whatever I want." Dean says as he opens the door to his apartment while you open the door to your sister's apartment. You immediately turn around and hug him. Without any explanation, your first instinct was to run into his arms. And you only realize how strange that is when you see the half-naked woman coming out of Dean's bedroom and staring at the two of you hugging at the door.

"See you later, buddy." You say, giving Dean Winchester a slightly friendly punch on the arm so that his visitor doesn't find it so bizarre for him to be hugging you at the door. He looks at you as if you've lost your mind, and then you quickly leave, entering your sister's apartment, hoping that the partnership with Dean Winchester is a good idea.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

What do you think a relationship between Mary and Sister Winchester would really be like?

In the event that Sister Winchester is clearly not Mary's daughter

John had an affair with a normal woman and although we know that he never forgot Mary, he really came to care about the Winchester sister's mother, until she died or left. How would Mary take finding out that John was with someone else? Or I think the question is whether I could come to terms with it even though Sister Winchester is a constant reminder that John was with someone else.

How would Dean and Sam tell this to Mary?

Dean and Sam try not to talk about Sister Winchester's mother in front of Mary or talk about her as if she was nobody in John's life (never in a cruel way) so as not to hurt Mary's feelings, in the same way that Sam and Dean tried not to talk in front of Mary about what a bad father John was and that bothers Sister Winchester because she's like "she's my mom, if you don't want her Mary knows about her, that's fine, but don't talk about her as if she were nobody."

And which brings me to my last question.

If somehow Sister Winchester's mother were alive, do you think Sister Winchester would spend more time with her mother than with the boys when Mary returns?

What would the relationship between Mary and Sister Winchester's mother be like?

How would Dean and Sam take it if the Winchester sister wanted to go live with her mother after Mary returns (and before she leaves) so as not to make things awkward?

I think the boys would be a little heartbroken when their sister tells them "I want to stay with mom."

(I’m gonna write this like a reader insert so that I don’t have to keep writing sister Winchester 😅)

Ok, so first I don’t really think John could get super close to another woman, he was too obsessed with Mary, but for the sake of argument let’s say he did.

I don’t think she would still be around—if you could’ve had a safe life, John/Dean wouldn’t let you live with them, they’d want you to stay with your mother. Unless of course your mother didn’t want you, and left you with John.

This is how I think it would go down—you got kidnapped with Sam, so Mary doesn’t meet you right away. Dean, ever the avoidant one, doesn’t tell Mary about his little sister, so her meeting you is quite a shock. When Dean and Mary bust in to save Sam, she sees you tied up right next to him. After an awkward yet excited greeting with Sam, Mary starts to wonder about you.

“I wonder how many other hunters they have stuck in here,” she says. “I mean, this is just a kid! What could they want from her?”

“They don’t have anyone else,” Sam says. “They wanted information on other hunters.”

“Well, then how did they get her?” Mary asks.

“She…she was in the bunker with me,” Sam says. You haven’t said anything—you know who this is, you’ve seen her in pictures, and you’re too shy and shocked to say anything.

“Mom,” Dean cuts in. “She’s our sister.”

The ride back to the bunker is super awkward. Once they get there, Dean tells you to go back to your room for a bit so he can talk to Mary.

Dean explains about your mother, but he makes it sound like she wasn’t anyone important. He’s trying to dampen the blow for Mary, but in doing so he makes your mom seem like a nobody. Little does he know that you didn’t actually go to your room.

“Hey!” You speak up for the first time since Mary showed up. “You don’t have to talk about her like that, Dean. If you don’t want Mary to know about her that’s fine, but don’t talk about her like she was nobody!”

“Hey,” Sam would interrupt, trying to sooth you. “Let’s take a look at you in the bathroom, ok? I know they hurt you, we should clean up some of those injuries.”

You’d let Sam take you away now that you’d said what you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Sam while he fixed up your wounds. “I’m not trying to mess anything up with your mom, I’m glad you got her back, I just…Dean was talking about my mom like she didn’t matter.”

“It’s ok,” Sam said. “I know you didn’t want to ruin anything. And I know it must’ve hurt hearing Dean talk like that. Dean…he’s always been in a bit of denial about your mom. You know, dad was always so obsessed with getting revenge for mom, that Dean thinks that that means he couldn’t care about anyone else. But he did, he did care about your mom kiddo.”

Mary would stay away from you for the most part. She doesn’t like you, and deep down everyone knows it. I mean, she came from the past, so as far as she remembers, she was married to John like yesterday. So the idea that she died and he moved on and got with someone else, and right in front of her is John’s child with some other woman?—that has to hurt. (I’m playing devil’s advocate here but in reality I really don’t like Mary).

I think Mary would probably belittle your ideas, like—

“Well she’s a child. She doesn’t understand how this works.”

And Sam would very gently remind her, “Mom, she’s been hunting for a while.”

“Not nearly as long as I have.”

Because of this, you’d speak up less and less before hunts. In fact, you talk less in the bunker in general, because whenever you do Mary gives you this side eye, like she’d forgotten you were still there.

It doesn’t become too much of a problem at first, because pretty soon Mary leaves to “get some space” (one of the main reasons I hate her) and “adjust” or whatever. As soon as she’s gone, the boys notice the difference in you. Your more confident in the bunker, and you talk a lot more. You always shut up, though, whenever Mary comes to visit.

You never talk about this with the brothers, because you’d never try to hurt their relationship with Mary.

So back to your mom—let’s say she’s alive, but she left you with John. You never wanted to find her before, because she left you with John because she didn’t want to put herself or her family (she has a lot of siblings and friends that she’s super close to) in danger. John told you all about it so that you would know that it wasn’t about you—your mom wanted you, but it was too complicated with the possibility that demons knew about you. You wanted to leave her be, but with Mary around you got desperate. You finally tell the boys—

“I want to go find my mom.”

They’re heartbroken that you want to leave, but they won’t make you stay. They know why you’re leaving, after all, and they can’t do anything about it—Mary’s their mom, and you’re their little sister, and they can’t pick between you.

So you go after your mom and find her—she’s happy to see you and know you’re ok, and she lets you stay with her, but after a while you start to feel unwelcome there, too. You know you’re probably putting her in danger, but you just don’t know what to do.

Just when you’re at the end of your rope, the brothers come and find you. They ask you to come back.

“Mary isn’t around much anymore,” Dean says, and you notice he sounds bitter. “She…she was working with the British Men of Letters.”

This comes as a shock to you, but you can’t deny that it feels great to come back to the bunker with just your big brothers. Of course they kind of-ish reconcile with Mary after a while, but since she betrayed them like that they stand up for you now—after all, you’ve never betrayed them like that. So the first time Mary tries to shut you down, Dean snaps at her—

“She has more right to be at this table than you, so let her speak.”

And Mary doesn’t do it again.

When John comes back, you don’t know what to do. This day is about the Winchesters, and as much as you wanted to see your dad again, you didn’t want to wreck anything. Your hiding out in your room for a while when John notices.

“Where’d your little sister go?”

“I think she’s in her room,” Sam says, and tells John where it is.

John’s the one who goes to find you. You’re expecting Sam or Dean when you hear a knock, so when John comes in you’re surprised.

“Hey baby.” John smiles at you. “What are you doing in here?”

“I-I didn’t want to mess up your family day,” you say.

“You’re my family, too,” John says, coming over and sitting on your bed. “I…I know things are probably a little strange with Mary back, but…but I want to see you, too. You’re my baby girl, always. Ok?”

You hug John, and he laughs.

“Ok.”

[fanfictionalraven]

Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly. 

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing. 

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other.  There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks. 

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all.  “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table. 

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead. 

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something  I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you –,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

**

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment. 

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

[asbeel]

"Ass or titties" Supernatural edition

Featuring: every relevant character I could think of and remember

Lmao I did this for hannibal and I thought it's be a good idea to do this for spn too lol

‐---------------------------------

Sam, genuine disbelief: What?

Eileen, signing: Sam's ass

Dean: Tits, obviously. (That was a lie. The true answer is Castiel's ass)

Castiel: Dean told me the safe answer is personality, so my answer is Dean.

Jack: Cas told me to stay away from people like you *flies away*

Ruby: Whatever you can offer, sweetheart.

Crowley: Why not both?

Lucifer: Honestly, does it matter?

Mary: Oh... John had a great ass...

John: My wife

Meg: Tits

Bobby: I'm too old to be thinking about that kinda stuff, idjit.

Ellen: Get the fuck out

Jo: Oh... I haven't really thought about it.

Chuck: Trick question! Ass AND titties!

Amara: Some peace and quiet

Balthazar: Ass. Everyone's got one, right?

Kevin: I want... advil.

Jody: Donna, of course! She's so sweet and is really good with the girls! 🥰🥰

Donna: Oh! I'd choose Jody! 🥰🥰

Metatron: Is God's recognition an option?

Benny: Titties? Is that what they're calling them now?

Naomi: I am an angel, I am above such human flaws.

Rowena: If I could only choose one? Ass.

Charlie: Ass and titties... but only on chicks

Ketch: I can't say I've ever turned down a woman with a big personality (the man was, in fact, turned on my Dean Winchester)

Adam: Michael

Michael: Adam

Gabriel: Yes

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

This interview did NOT go right 🥲

[ghostlyfanparadise]

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

birth plan

masterlist

summary: you’re pregnant with castiel’s baby… or is it babies?

pairing: castiel x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.5k

warnings: pregnancy, language, medical inaccuracies i think (i’ve never been pregnant so i don’t think i describe the feeling well)

timeline: this is set in no particular season/episode but there are spoilers for the later seasons (certain characters).

author’s note: i’m basing this off a dream i had - before said dream i never even thought of cas this way at all (gotta love that subconscious, huh?) anyway, i couldn’t stop thinking of this dream so here’s a cas fic :)

when you found out you were pregnant with castiel’s baby you freaked out. not the expected ‘holy fuck there’s a living thing growing inside me’ but more like ‘holy fuck i’m gonna die in a few months cause there’s a tiny angel in my uterus’.

you cried while telling castiel, you were terrified. he assured you he wouldn’t let you die, he promised you would be okay and that the two of you could raise the baby together. if you did live, you had no clue how to raise a kid, or if you even wanted to. you had been raised a hunter and you hated it. when you were six your biggest fear was tornadoes but by the time you were seven your biggest fear was being torn apart by one of the monsters you had learned to fight.

castiel was so happy about the baby, so excited. he knew you would be a fantastic mother and he couldn’t wait to have a baby with you. he knew the baby would be loved unconditionally by so many people, too; you, him, dean, sam, jack, mary, and eileen - all of whom lived in the bunker.

as the months went by the pains grew almost unbearable. you took time away from hunting and had to stay in the bunker. castiel always made sure someone would be in the bunker with you (preferably not alone with jack, who tended to ask questions that scared you - “what if the baby is like me and you have to push a full sized person out” for example). most days cas would stay right next to you but on the rare occasion he needed to be on a hunt, you’d be alone with either eileen, mary, or one of the brothers (rowena visited a couple times, but that was more for trying to find some magical tylenol for the immense pain). you didn’t mind castiel going on hunts, in fact you wished he’d go on more so you wouldn’t feel like you were holding him back.

one morning you woke up and the pain was horrible - it felt like the baby was stabbing you from the inside. castiel tried healing you, but it was no use. the two of you decided an ultrasound was necessary.

“what?” you practically screamed, your eyes wide with fear.

“there must be some kind of mistake?” castiel knotted his brows and stared at the black and white screen in shock.

“no mistake, three heartbeats,” the doctor smiled slightly, wanting to make you feel better, but it obviously did nothing.

“cas i can’t push three kids out!” you whispered. he was holding your left hand in his and standing beside you, his right arm was draped over your shoulder. “cas- castiel i can’t! i- i’m not strong enough! i won’t!” tears were streaming down your face when you turned away from the screen and to the angel.

“could you give us a minute?” cas asked the doctor, she nodded and left. “honey it’s gonna be alright.”

“three baby angels, cas! three! how- how the fuck am i supposed to push three angels out of me, cas?” you were practically sobbing at this point. “i- i’m gonna die, aren’t i?”

“no! no you won’t! i promise you, i will not let you die,” he pulled you into his chest and rubbed your back lovingly. “i know this must be scary, triplets is- it’s gonna be painful.” he kissed the crown of your head.

“but three babies! i mean if i do, by some miracle, manage to give birth and survive, how are we gonna raise three kids, cas?” you wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him as close to you as you could.

“well, we do have four adults and a nephilim excited to help,” he answered, causing you to laugh lightly. it’s true, you had all the support you could need.

cas drove the two of you back to the bunker and you were met with said four adults and nephilim immediately asking where you had been. the five of them were on a hunt and got back while you and cas were at the ob/gyn. you hadn’t left the bunker in months so they had assumed the worst.

you told them the news and they all reacted differently than you and cas. they were so excited, it made you realized they really wanted to help raise the kids. (infact, they had all began thinking of names and had cleaned out the room next to your’s and cas’ for the babies.)

castiel knew that your pregnancy wouldn’t last as long as a normal pregnancy so he wanted to come up with a birth plan. dean purchased new burner phones for each person that were never to be silenced or turned off and the only people who had the numbers were the seven of you. the second you went into labor, someone near you (or you, if you could) would call castiel immediately. if possible they would also notify the others.

another couple months or so went by. you were due any day now - but you had been due any day for over two weeks. you had gotten somewhat used to the pain and rowena had come up with a simple spell with some herbs that you’d mix with your tea every couple hours to help with the pain. garth had moved into the bunker temporarily - he was a trained doula after having to deliver werewolf pups. rowena moved in temporarily too, but that was more for moral support and pain management.

“cas you haven’t left the bunker in over a month! go on this hunt,” you assured him. it was a hunt close by and he was going to take jack with him.

“promise you won’t go into labor til i get back?”

“i won’t let these kiddos leave,” you smile, patting your stomach playfully. he gave you a peck on the lips before leaving with jack.

a couple hours in, you began getting long, sharp pains every few minutes. rowena was the one who recognized the pains as contractions.

“you’re going into labor, we need to get you to the birth room.” she took your your hand gently but you whipped it away.

“no, no i promised cas i’d wait for him,” you shook your head. “the babies are just gonna have to stay put for a whi- ah!” you scrunched your face in pain, holding your stomach.

“okay, we’ll get cas on the phone, we can pray for jack - they’ll be here before you know it,” she tried to reason with you and motioned you to follow her. you shook your head vigorously and didn’t move your feet, absolutely terrified of what was about to happen.

“holy shit,” your eyes widened, cloudy with tears. “my water- i think my water just broke!” you both looked down. “that’s- that’s broken water!”

“exactly hun, you’re going into labor you need to let me help you to the birth room, okay?”

“oh- okay,” you nodded and she helped you to the room. she called out that you were going into labor as she walked you over.

about a month ago the brothers and jack came home to the bunker with a hospital bed from the maternity ward. you didn’t ask how they got it, but you were grateful they did. everyone helped set up the room; towels, blankets, a mini freezer for ice chips, and just about anything you might need while in labor and giving birth.

sam and dean carefully helped you onto the bed. mary called cas and within seconds he and jack were in the room.

“cas!” you smiled, relieved to see him.

“hey, y/n, how are you?” he asked, rushing to your side and tightly holding your hand.

“i’m in pain, cas, i’m about to push three celestial beings out my vagina!” you said dryly.

“right, right, okay it’ll be okay, though,” he kissed your forehead. “you’re gonna be okay. jack’s here and he will keep you alive and well.”

“okay,” you whispered.

“time to start pushing, y/n,” garth announced.

within the hour you had pushed all three babies out. three identical baby boys; with cas’ piercing blue eyes and your winning smile. you were absolutely exhausted, but you were alive. you were holding one baby, cas was holding another, and garth was holding the third.

“so, what’re we naming the little guys?” cas asked, a huge smile on his face and his eyes not moving away from his new baby boy.

“this one’s sam,” you smiled down at the tiny being in your arms. “he’s the biggest.”

“then that makes this little guy dean, he’s a smallest,” cas laughed a little in response. dean would’ve been annoyed at the height joke but he was so honored you were naming a kid after him.

“what about this little guy?” garth asked.

“bobby,” you smiled.

no one went on any hunts for almost two weeks. they all stayed and helped with the babies. baby dean would be named dean jack y/l/n, baby sam would be named samuel charles y/l/n, and baby bobby would be named robert garth y/l/n.

[pickledpascal]

Long Story Short, It Was a Bad Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: transphobia, homophobia, horrible parent john winchester, homophobic language, implied past prostitution, based on 14x13, angst with a happy-ish ending

A/N: in this, dean is trans and visually looks similar to another of jensen's characters, beau arlen.

Word Count: 4.8k

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Dean Winchester had known he was a boy since he could talk. Hell, before he could talk. 

He wasn't aware he wasn't a boy until after his mother died and every single teacher in every single town they went to called him a girl and separated him into the girls' lines instead of the boys. It got increasingly mind-numbing as he entered his pre-teen years. His first period came around and his dad wasn't sure what to do. Pads were one of the most expensive supplies he had to buy and he never failed to make Dean feel bad about it at every turn. 

“Suck it up, Deanna.” 

“Don't go tellin’ anyone I don't do anything for you, Deanna.” 

“You better clean the garbage out when I get home, Deanna. I don't wanna see that.” 

The name itched him like a bad rash. Made him want to scream. But all he could do was cry. After John was gone and Sammy was asleep. 

His boobs were growing in and everything about his body felt wrong. He was glad he was naturally tall and that he was able to gain more muscle the more John let him go on hunts but it wasn't the same. His shoulders weren't as broad as the other guys in his class, his hips jutted out too much for his liking, and he hated his long hair. 

Dean cut it on his sixteenth birthday and told his father it was under the guise of wanting to be safe. Unpullable hair meant one less thing he had to worry about when it came to monsters. John looked at him suspiciously. He must have known. But he didn't blow up like Dean expected him to. That made the wrenching feeling in his gut twist more. There had to be a catch. 

He came out two weeks after that.

“Thank God.” Dean blinked at the reaction. “I thought I was gonna have a dyke of a daughter. Now, I have another son. You going by another name?” 

Dean wanted to throw up. Somehow, that made everything worse. His father would rather have a son than a lesbian daughter? He didn't want to think about the fact that he still liked boys just not as much as girls. 

He had a few mishaps, he'd look at a few guys as he passed them with John at his side. Dean didn't think too much of it since nothing came of it. Why would John punish him for something as simple as a glance? 

Then his seventeenth birthday came.

Dean's first hunt by himself, specifically curated by his father. He watched the fire in the hole he dug earlier with his hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket. The two bodies were as intertwined as they could be for rotting skeletons. 

The heat was nice. But bittersweet. He was close enough that it could burn him. Dean would've loved to burn to a crisp as well but he had a brother to protect. 

Dean swallowed thickly and gathered up his supplies.

Message heard loud and clear, Dad.

Dean's top surgery was one of the things he remembered the most about his more medical transition. He couldn't get testosterone as much as he wanted to with forged signatures and documents but Bobby offered something else. 

So Dean was laid down on a steel examination table asleep on some anesthetic Bobby was able to get off the black market. Bobby didn't have much experience being a surgeon so it wasn't the best but it was as sterile and safe as it could be. But Dean couldn't have been happier. His chest was flat. That's what he cared about. Even if he had to be at Bobby's for weeks. He was just glad Sam was there too instead of having to leave him alone with John. 

Time passed. Dean leaned hard into his masculinity after John died. A little too hard. 

“You are way out of my brother’s league.”

“Guess how many of these cheerleaders are legal.”

“She's a bitch.”

“Fucking bitch!”

“Bitch!”

Part of it was his frustration with nearly being killed every day of his life, not even by monsters, the other part was the things John beat into him at a young age. If Dean wanted to be a man, he had to be one at John's discretion. He had to like girls but not enough to actually settle down with one. He had to look out for Sam even if that meant he would die. 

So he did. 

Made a deal. Went to hell. 

Except he didn't expect to come back. 

That gas station would forever stay in his mind. He walked for hours to find it. His whole body felt a little different. Jumbled around but he could tell his body was still his. He immediately went for the water bottles and broke the seal, downing it in one go. 

Dean caught a glimpse of a mirror out of the corner of his eye. He walked up to it and licked at his bottom lip, staring at himself. He noticed his sharper jaw decorated with stubble, his hair seemed to be less chopped, his shoulders more broad, and… he had bowlegs? He looked down and then back up. 

Intrigued, he lifted his shirt. His lips dropped open. The scars under his pecs were still there but they were different, no longer botched and scary-looking, but smooth. And his chest. It wasn't completely flat like it was before. His pecs looked more natural, protruding a bit. Like a “real” man. Dean let his shirt drop as he breathed. The handprint on his arm was there too and, for a moment, he knew something cosmic had to be the reason for this, but something inside him felt so happy. Giddy. 

He snuck a peak under his jeans. And, yeah, no he still didn't have a dick but he didn't particularly care about that anyway. One of the only things about his body that didn't matter as much. Well, at least now he felt comfortable in himself even if it came at a price. 

Over and over again. He was reminded of what he “really” was. 

“Daddy's blunt little instrument.”

“Daddy's little girl.” 

Hell, half of it came from himself. As a joke. Not one he particularly wanted to be true.

“I've been re-hymenated.” 

“Ever since I was a little girl.”

“You got anything that’s real?” “My boobs.”

As Dean grew older, he started to shed those kinds of ideals. Not only did it get too heavy to bear but he started not to care anymore. John was dead. Mary was dead. Who did he have to impress? So he didn't mind talking about the fact he didn't have a dick and indulging himself on some things that may be seen as feminine. Like a few satin panties tucked into the bottom of his drawer or the few times he painted his nails—it never lasted long when he went on a hunt. 

Although Dean still thought of his body as a tool, something he could use against their adversaries, it was a little easier to live in when he was in control of what he could do to it. When it was the kind of body he always wanted. So he got more tattoos to cover his body—they were mostly covered by his layers of denim and flannel except for one that creeped onto the side of his neck—his nipples got pierced and he nearly forgot he actually had nerve endings there when it happened, he grew out his hair a bit—not nearly as long as Sam’s but enough that he could style it better—he started wearing earrings and rings again. Not many and usually not during hunts because he had a feeling any monster, or human for that matter, would take advantage of it and tear his ear in half.

Sam and Castiel didn't mention it. Ever. And Dean wasn't sure if he should be grateful for it or not. 

“Why did you…” Dean breathed, glancing up at Castiel. He didn't want to finish the rest of his question. It was right after Mary came back and she had locked herself in some random room in the bunker to process something. 

Dean was no longer her beautiful, young four-year-old daughter Deanna. He was a grown man with shorter hair, a sharp jaw, and stubble. He knew it would be a shock for anyone, especially someone dead for so long but he didn't expect it to reopen a wound he thought had healed years ago. People had only ever thought of Dean as Dean. A man. 

Even the very few women he got with after transitioning still thought of him as a man afterward. 

Castiel’s eyes softened at Dean. He could sense the turmoil inside his head. “I was given liberty to rebuild you in the way I thought would prepare you for Micheal,” He admitted softly. He could see Dean was holding in a breath. “I decided to give you the body you wanted. The one you deserved. I had never seen a soul shine as bright as yours as you looked at my handiwork in that gas station. I knew then, I made the right decision.”

Dean's cheeks flared with blush, averting his gaze to look at anywhere but Castiel. He never quite thought about him being there, watching him admire himself. He knew that was Cas, of course, he did, but to Dean, it wasn't Cas just yet. The Cas he knew was so different from that grinding, high-pitched noise he remembered hearing.

The Cas he knew was safe. His best friend. The closest thing to family he had beside Sam. He was able to be open with Cas in a different way than Sam. 

More and more shit came and went. More and more apocalypses. But Castiel was a constant. Even if he died a few times. Even if he left a few times. He usually came back. Dean wanted him to stay. For good. But even if he was more open with being a transgender guy and liking girls and guys, he still wasn't that open about his feelings. His more complicated feelings. 

“Sam? Deanna?”

That fucking pearl. 

The sight of his father. That's not what Dean wanted. That wasn't his deepest desire. Hell, he didn't even know what his deepest desire was. And that name. He hadn't heard that name in years. Mary caught on quickly that Dean was Dean and that was it. But, of course, his father wouldn't. Even if he liked having Dean as a son more than a daughter. 

That fucking pearl was supposed to get Micheal the fuck out of his head and kill him for good measure. Instead, it brought him the one thing Dean hated more than anything in his life.

On autopilot, Dean locked himself in his room. He nearly fell to his knees but he braced himself on the wall and had half a mind to punch a hole in it. He winced as that banging in his mind got louder. Micheal screamed. Dean slid down the wall and pushed his hands into his hair. His breathing was harbored and he felt suffocated as if something was weighing down his chest.i

Why did that pearl do that? Dean was happy without him. As happy as he could be with an archangel in his head and tonnes of baggage. 

A soft knock brought Dean back to reality. Cas. He pushed himself off the ground and opened the door. 

“Sam told me about your father,” His tone was deathly serious. Dean hadn't heard Castiel sound like that in a while. He was grateful for it. “Would you like me to smite him?”

Dean swallowed. The offer was tempting. “Jesus, Cas, no. I—” Want him gone. Dead. Obliterated. Erased from his memories. Back in Hell. Gone from Heaven. Tortured to be forgotten. “I need you. Here. With me.” His shoulders slumped after the admission. 

“Of course, Dean. Whatever you need.” Castiel's voice softened as his eyes did as well. It was so truthful, said with such fondness Dean nearly cried. 

Dean sat at the end of his bed and motioned for Castiel to do the same. The angel obliged. He knew there was this thing between them. Obvious enough Sam started to call him out on it, never in front of Cas to save him from the embarrassment, but it was always on his mind when they were alone together. He wasn't sure what to do with it. All his feelings. Everything was so complex. Yet simple. It was a strange dichotomy. One he wasn't sure he wanted to admit out loud. 

But the fact that Castiel had only ever seen Dean as a man helped. Drove it into his thick skull what this thing was. Love. Castiel spoke to him so reverently. Spoke his name like a prayer. One Dean desperately wanted to hear over and over again. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Of course, Dean.” 

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“This is a good thing, Dean.”

“He called me Deanna,” Dean admitted softly, eyes focused on his boots. He was naturally tall, even before resurrected by Cas, but the boots gave him an extra inch or so to not look as small next to Sam. He could feel how tense Castiel was after his words. “It's… funny,” He let out a dry laugh, “For years, I've been fine. Been good in that area. But that's just—” Dean took a sharp breath. “People see me as a guy now. At least, they do until they get in my pants. But Dad—John, I fucking look like this,” He gestured to himself, “And he calls me Deanna? Fuck me.” He scoffed. 

For a second, he had a feeling John only humored him when he was younger. Called him Dean, got him a binder before his surgery, just because it was easier. If Dean became a man then he wouldn't look as much like Mary anymore and then maybe he wouldn't see her in his eyes or his face. 

But John still did. This was proof of that. 

“Your father, for lack of a better term, is a bitch.” Castiel said shamelessly. “You are so much more than a man born in the wrong body. It's a shame your father is too blind to see that.”

Dean's breath caught in his throat. And then he laughed. Hard. Hard enough his lungs started hurting and he had to gasp for air. Hard enough that tears started to form at the edges of his eyes and a few even rolled down his cheeks. He didn't register his hand on Castiel's thigh until he set his hand on top of it. 

Dean pulled it away. Or tried. Castiel held it in place. “Your soul…” He murmured. “It shines so bright when you laugh.” 

His voice. So soft and reassuring. Dean screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't help the fluttering in his chest. For the first time in a while, Micheal was silent. It was just him and Cas in the middle of his bed. Safe. Outside his room might be different. 

Dean's eyes lifted to meet Castiel's. They were a brilliant shade of blue he couldn't quite place. Nothing matched it. Sure, he could compare them to the ocean or perhaps the sky but even those didn't come close. Without thinking too hard, Dean let himself go. 

His free hand pulled Castiel close as he brought their lips together. The surprised noise the angel made was cute and Dean could feel him melting into the kiss. Castiel's lips were chapped, Dean chalked it up to him not caring for his vessel much, but everything felt so right. Their fingers intertwined while Cas threaded his free hand through Dean's hair. 

A cough. And suddenly Dean and Cas jumped away from each other. It was Sam. Dean took a breath, thankful that it was Sam and not John. Sam smirked as his eyes flickered between the two men but it was quickly wiped off his face. “Mom and Dad… they want to have dinner together.” He explained, focusing on Dean. 

There was still a lot Dean didn't tell Mary about John. About their life before the Men of Letters bunker. What Dean did to survive, to make sure Sam could live as comfortably as possible, to put food on the table and get a bed to sleep on, even while John was still alive. Bathrooms in gas stations on his knees, in the back of bars, dingy motel rooms. 

John never asked where the money came from, he took it anyway. 

If Mary knew, Dean knew she would look at John in a different light. A part of him didn't want to tarnish that for her. Even though it took some adjusting, she had accepted Dean wholeheartedly. Hell, she only messed up on his pronouns a few times, that was a lot better than when Sam first found out. 

“Dean, do you want…?” Sam didn't finish his sentence. He didn't know the full extent of what John did to him but he knew Dean intentionally took the brunt of the abuse for Sam. And he could never take that back. “He's asking about you. Saying you—you finally look like a man. Wondered what kind of work you had done. Thinks you're…” Sam wasn't trying to guilt trip Dean, quite the opposite. “Thinks you get a lot of girls. Asked if you had a wife or something. Asked if you,” He coughed, “Got a dick yet.” 

Dean’s fist clenched as his face contorted into disgust. Out of the corner of his eye, he could feel Castiel getting frustrated as well. 

Screwing his eyes shut, Michael crept up in his mind again. The screams. The banging. It came back tenfold. “What does he even want? For us to be fucking normal?” Dean huffed.

“Yeah,” Sam said simply. “Dad… he's from 2003. That's what he does best. Act normal when nothing is.” He smiled sadly. 

Dean stood up from the bed and rolled up the sleeves to his flannel shirt. He wouldn't—couldn’t—let his father undo everything he had ever built in the last fourteen years of his life. The small little family he made. Sam, him, Mary, Cas, Jack, and Claire. That was his family. Not John. 

Castiel looked at Dean, concerned. “Are you sure, Dean?” He could see that little boy inside him, still scared of what his father could do to him. But he could also see the grown man he came to be, unafraid of his father because he could likely overpower him now. 

Before he could think about it too hard, Dean nodded. “C'mon, sunshine. I'm not letting him fuck with my head again.” His leg bounced slightly. Not from nerves. 

Dean, Sam, and Cas made their way into the war room where John and Mary sat at the map table. John’s head lifted to look at Dean. Fully look at him. Take in his new appearance. When he appeared, Dean didn't stay long enough for John to get a good look at what he had become. The last time he'd seen Dean, he was twenty-five, wore too big clothes, had a skinner frame, and his hair was short and was never styled. This Dean… was not that.

He grew into his height, broad shoulders, visible muscles under his flannel—John would have never guessed Dean was born a girl. That he was his daughter. 

“Deanna.” John breathed. 

“Dean.” The man corrected. “You're… here.” He wished he wasn't. 

John’s eyes narrowed momentarily. Normally, he would've slapped him for something like that but he wasn't stupid. This Dean had a few pounds on him. “I am. Sam and your mom caught me up on everything that went down,” His eyes shifted to land on Castiel. “That the angel that pulled you out of Hell?” 

“Hello, John.” Castiel greeted, void of any emotion. Dean glanced at him. He knew the angel inside and out and he knew Castiel was getting increasingly annoyed simply being in John's presence. 

Mary sensed the tension between them and coughed. “I was thinking we could have Winchester Surprise?” She suggested softly—ever the peacemaker. 

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his mother. He knew Mary was desperate to have John, they didn't have much time together and she was still very much in love, but no one else wanted him there. Dean didn't and neither did Sam and Castiel was so close to stomping John into a curb. 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mom.” Dean finally said. As much as he wanted to protect her from the real John, the one who was hiding behind a loving façade, he had to break the news to her. There must always come a time when the veil gets taken away from someone’s eyes, showing them the truth.

John tilted his head and Dean couldn't help but feel it was condescending. “Why not? We're all family here. We can be normal for a night,” He stared at Dean a little too hard. “As normal as we can be.”

“We were never normal,” Dean ground out. It took all his self-control not to just yell at him. Mary looked at Dean worriedly. She'd seen Dean mad, specifically at her, but nothing like this. His shoulders were tense and his nose was drawn into a snarl. 

“You–You don't get it. Never will. You suck for a father. I had to raise Sam myself. You'd fuck off to who knows where drunk half the time and make me, a four-year-old watch over a fucking baby. And you liked me better as a son than a girl who liked girls? What the fuck?” Yeah. Fuck that self-control. Dean’s jaw set in place. “Guess fucking what dad? I like girls and boys. And I could care fucking less what you think of—”

Dean's jaw throbbed. Surprise shivered down his spine. John flexed his hand as he stared down at Dean as he cupped his face.

“John!” Mary yelled.

Castiel nearly jumped John before Dean did. With a single right hook, John was out cold on the floor. He flapped his hand afterward, feeling the soreness immediately. It had been a while since Dean had to punch someone, usually, he had a gun or knife when fighting, he was a little surprised at how effective it was. 

“Dean!” Mary huffed as she went to John's side.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He decided he might as well come out with it. “Fuck him, Mom. He was never my father. He never tried to be. I was the only person who watched over Sam. A tool in his life while he was dead-set on revenge. We could have been normal. If he never went on a rampage.” He looked down at the pitiful heap that was his father with disgust. He glanced at Castiel over his shoulder. 

Mary shook her head, trying to reason with Dean. “We're a family. We don't give up on family.” She whispered. 

“Sometimes you do,” Dean huffed softly. As much as he and Sam fought, as many times as they took turns dying, it never got so bad that Dean thought he hated him. At least, not for more than a day or so. “I'm good with who I am. Dad isn't. I don't want him in my life. I don't think I ever had but… this is my life now. I get to live it. Meaning I get to choose who's in it,” He swallowed thickly, knowing what he was about to admit. “In ten years time, it's not with him. Never was.” 

“Dean, you don't mean that.” Mary sighed. Pleading. She wanted to keep John, make up for lost time.

Sam took a step forward. “Mom, you don't get it either. The shit John put Dean through—put both of us through—no kid should have to go through that.”

Mary huffed, “Then tell me. You can't just expect me to know.” 

Castiel stared at her. “Your sons don't have to say anything they are uncomfortable admitting.” He said it as if he was stating the weather forecast. 

Dean pursed his lips. Hurt. He knew Mary wouldn't understand but he didn't quite expect this. He turned on his heels and made his way back into his room. 

Eventually, everything was as it was. John was sent back after Sam destroyed the pearl and Dean could breathe a little more comfortably afterward. Mary shut herself off from them but he had a feeling that would get resolved as much as the gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach told him it wouldn't. He never wanted to see or think about John ever again. Hadn't wanted to for years after the shit he's gone through. 

Dean heard a knock on his door after he got ready for bed. Hell, he was halfway underneath the covers when it happened. He grumbled under his breath, not thinking to put on a shirt or a pair of pants as he opened the door.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said softly. As soft as each time before. Dean was suddenly very aware of how bare he was. “Do not be alarmed, it's nothing I haven't seen before.” The angel stepped inside his room, closing the door behind him. 

Castiel's words did nothing to ease Dean's beating heart. It felt like a hammer against his chest, wanting to tear itself out of him. 

Castiel’s eyes never wavered from his face, studying it as if it were a work of art. He lifted a hand to Dean's cheek. Dean felt as if the air was punched out of him. “I want to know if you're okay, Dean.” Those blue eyes—they never looked at him in pity, never. They looked at him with wonder and understanding. 

Dean didn't register the single tear that rolled down his cheek until Castiel's thumb wiped it away. “Not really, Cas.” He breathed. Admitting it didn't feel as bad as he thought it would. 

“Why—” Castiel took a breath, saddened by how destroyed Dean's eyes looked. “Why do you think the pearl… gave you John?” He asked softly as he and Dean sat on his bed. 

Dean glanced at the corner of his room, lip trembling with a mix of rage and sadness. “Maybe the pearl thought I wanted a Dad. Someone who could love me unconditionally. But I—” He paused sharply, eyes finding Castiel's all over again. He wanted to memorize his eyes as if it were the first time he saw them. Or the last. “I have you.” He breathed. For the first time, Dean hadn't been compelled to add Sam at the end of his sentence. 

“You do,” Castiel smiled. And, god, Dean's heart wrenched at the sight. Cas didn't smile, not often. “You always have.” 

Dean let out a shaky breath, leaning into Castiel's hand as it caressed his cheek. He sniffled slightly. “Cas, please…. Please promise me you'll stay. Even—Even if I push you away. You,” He was full-on crying now and Castiel was looking at him as if he was the most beautiful thing in the world. “You'll stay. No matter what.”

“I will.” Castiel whispered light as a feather. Two simple words but it was a promise that meant so much to Dean. 

It was a promise Castiel never intended to break. Why would he? Especially when Dean seemed so desperate. So distraught. He could never leave Dean. Not again. 

“Kiss me.” Dean whispered. Pleaded. He wanted to memorize everything about Cas. The strange body heat he gave off, the tilt of his head, how his lips pressed into a thin line when he was only minorly frustrated by Dean, the roughness of his stubble. Everything. 

For the first time, Dean saw a smirk grace Castiel's lips. “Whatever you want, Dean.” He brought their lips together with a sigh. 

They kissed for a while, pausing for breath in between kisses but they didn't go past that, ending up with Castiel in bed with Dean after he shed his trenchcoat, shoes, and tie. Dean dozed off, peaceful enough to fall asleep in Castiel's arms. 

Even with a fading grace, Castiel didn't sleep much. His body ran well enough on it that sleep wasn't needed. So he stayed up, playing with the hairs on Dean's neck as he watched over him, soothing him as much as possible when he sensed a nightmare coming on. 

“You think you're cursed sometimes Dean,” Castiel cooed on deaf ears but he didn't mind. He had to get it out. “That hate is the only thing that drives you. That you're not built for love. But you are. I think, sometimes—no, I know—that’s all you're made up of. And I–I promise we will find a better way,” Cas lifted his hand to Dean's shoulder, positioning it right above his scar. The scar he burned on his skin. “I love you, Dean.” He whispered into his ear.

For the rest of that night, Dean didn't have nightmares. For the rest of that night, he burrowed himself closer to Castiel. For the rest of that night, Michael was quiet.

[flowersintheimpala69]

Sam Winchester & Mary Winchester

[robinsfilm]

warnings: mention of topics such as sa and misogyny.

this is unlike my regular posts, but i had to write at least one paragraph on it. im continuing to watch supernatural (stopped at like season 6).

the misogyny and poor handle of the sa in this show is astonishing to me. i'd like to apologise to the women in this show that have basically no personality and ambition in this show (except for jo maybe) and sorry to sam too.

i've heard it gets worse from here. it's almost like the women are only there to somehow add on the mens characters. everyone of them are a "love interest" of dean. i love him, like really, but he digs himself into a deeper and deeper whole every season.

how sams sa hasn't been mentioned even once is just crazy.

a woman has not touched the writing room, apparently.