#sam and dean hook up while dean looks like john

[augustonly]

Hear me out... pre-series body swap between Dean & John... John waking up in Dean's body with Sammy sleeping basically on top of him, bare legs tangled together. Dean waking up on the side of the road where John pulled over to sleep after a hunt.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse

Word Count: 4869

A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!

Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Dean’s necklace. 

“Is that…?” Dean asked, pointing to your journal.

You nodded. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” he said.

“No offense, lovebug, but you don’t know much of anything about me,” you retorted.

He scoffed. “Will you take the compliment and be quiet?”

“I didn’t hear a compliment,” you giggled. “Well, maybe in ‘Dean Winchester Land’ it was a compliment.”

“Oh, shut up,” he responded playfully. 

Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis,” Dean jabbed at his brother.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” you told him.

“So, anything?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam huffed. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“Sam, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.”

Sam looked disappointed.

“Check this out.” Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. “It’s a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“Thank god, a short trip,” you sighed. 

“ ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road,’ “ Sam read from the article.

“Keep reading.” Dean nodded at his laptop.

“ ‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.’ “

That last line caught your attention. “Could be something interesting.”

“Or it could be nothing at all,” Sam protested. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out,” Dean responded.

***

The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house. 

“Remind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?” you asked.

“Because this is Lori Sorensen’s sorority house; the witness from the killing,” Sam replied.

“Great,” you mumbled.

“Have fun making s’mores and singing campfire songs,” Dean remarked.

“Bite me,” you snarked. “You’re going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldn’t be so cocky.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.

A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. “Hi,” she said. “Can I… help you?”

“Yeah, I’m (Y/N),” you explained. “I’m your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I’m Taylor, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being. 

They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Lori’s father’s church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.

In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service. 

Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldn’t. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.

Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.

“Guys!” you said excitedly. “Sam, Dean, this is Lori.” You introduced her to them. “They’re my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.” 

“I saw you inside,” she told them.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.

“I kind of know what you’re going through,” Sam broke back in. “I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook the reverend’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled. “It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” 

“Yes, sir,” you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. “Actually, we’re looking for a new church group…”

***

Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.

“So, you believe her?” Dean asked him.

“I do,” he nodded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smirked at him. 

“You think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,” you remarked.

“Not you,” he jabbed back, still smirking.

You clutched a hand to your chest. “I’m hurt, you dick.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Can we focus, please?” Sam broke in. “There’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—”

 Sam cut you off. “Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.” 

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever,” Dean added. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” 

You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours. 

“Hey, check this out. 1862,” Sam said finally. “A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’ “

“Get this, the murder weapon?” Dean was looking at another page. “Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.” 

You pointed to a page in Sam’s book. “Look where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.”

“Same place where the frat boy was killed,” Sam chimed in. 

“Nice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Let’s check it out,” the older brother quipped.

The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. “Here you go.”

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said.

“Yeah, rock salt. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean led the three of you through the clearing. 

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” 

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

“Cool it, Winchester. You and your daddy aren’t the first people to think of rock salt bullets.” You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“They’re a bitch to roll,” you said.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” he remarked. 

You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.

“Over there,” you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it. 

The “ghost” came out from behind the trees. A sheriff. 

‘Dammit.’

“Put the gun down now!” he yelled. “Now! Put your hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, okay!” Dean told him. 

You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

You three obeyed.

“Now get down on your bellies,” he commanded. “Come on, do it!”

“Are you just on a power trip or something? ‘Cause— ah!” you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam. 

The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.

“Saved your asses!” Dean jeered. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.”

“How was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?” You raised a brow at him. “And how in the fuck did you do it?”

“Sweetheart, this may surprise you, but I’m good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend we’d dragged along, and we were hazing you.”

You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.

“First of all, ew,” you started, “No offense, Sam.”

“None taken.”

“But what about the shotguns?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You stuck your tongue out at Sam.

Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.

You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You weren’t exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.

Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house. 

“Why would the Hook Man come here?” Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. “This is a long way from Nine Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. 

You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your “sorority sisters.” You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor. 

While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.

“Need help?” you smirked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.

“What’s the magic word?” you sing-songed.

“Come on!” he hissed. “Please?”

“There we go,” you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.

You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylor’s closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasn’t the one dead.

Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylor’s room to find the words “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?” crudely etched into the wall above Taylor’s blood soaked bed. You didn’t exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didn’t get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.

“ ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ That’s right out of the legend,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before,” Sam muttered.

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked you. 

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah. Fine. It’s just… look at this symbol.” You were referencing the one beneath the writing. “Does that look familiar to you?”

Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy you’d made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karns’s hook. 

You showed it to the boys. “Told ya.”

“Alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean said.

Sam took the page from your hand. “ ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.’ “ He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.

“Super,” the older brother muttered.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why,” Sam pointed out.

“I could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,” you said, looking up at the sorority house.

***

You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.

The three of you reunited around the pool table you’d been dominating that night.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean told Sam. “This college thing is awesome!” He smiled and winked at a passing girl.

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “This wasn’t really my experience.”

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?”

Sam nodded. You chortled.

“What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?” 

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unfolded a piece of paper. 

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“There’s a pattern here,” Sam explained. “In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out— get this— with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asked.

“Her dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” you pointed out. “Maybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his kid.”

“Reverend Sorensen,” Dean tsked. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe it’s like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,” you suggested.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam chimed in.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told his brother.

“What about you?” 

Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde you’d been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, “(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.” 

“We are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,” you told him. 

He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. “C’mon. I’m not happy about it either.”

***

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back?” you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.

He shot you a look.

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” you laughed. “But seriously. Now that we’re… acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.”

“That’d be cool, actually,” he said, smirking at you. “You’re pretty good.”

“What, at pool?”

He nodded. “I could probably still kick your ass, though.”

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

He stopped and turned to you. “Don’t objectify me.”

“What?” you asked, stopping next to him. “You know you’re gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.” You marched on.

You smiled when you heard him mutter, “You are so confusing, woman.”

You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylor’s room. “Jackpot.”

You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacob’s corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. “How fucking far down is six feet?” you remarked breathlessly. 

“I don’t know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” he replied.

“Aw, you don’t wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?” you asked playfully. 

He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile. 

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You’re just funny,” he told you.

You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it. 

“Hello, preacher,” Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones. 

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean threw a match down into the grave.

Your nose twisted up in disgust. “I will never get used to that smell.”

“What, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.”

You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemetery’s parking lot. Your body was exhausted. 

“Um, weird question,” you started. 

He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk. 

“You think we could sleep in your car for a bit? I’m running on two days of no sleep.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layin’ it down with Lori.”

And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You weren’t quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.

“Dean?”

“Hm.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

***

Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Dean’s phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.

“Hospital? Why? Is he okay?” you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun. 

“I think so, but he said the reverend’s hurt.”

About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats. 

The sheriffs put a hand to Dean’s chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s my brother,” he explained. “Hey! Brother!” he called, waving dorkishly at Sam.  

“Let them through.”

“Thanks.” 

You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.

“You okay?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” sighed Sam.

“What the hell happened?” 

“Hook Man.”

You looked incredulous. “You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam responded.

“We did,” you rebutted, confused. “You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him,” Sam returned. “And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, duh, he wouldn’t send Hook Man after himself,” you remarked.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” He whispered that last part.

“Damn.” You gritted your teeth. “I could see how that could upset her.”

Sam nodded. “She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted,” Dean chimed in. “And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right,” the younger brother nodded. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean muttered. “But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“We must’ve missed something,” you said. 

“No, we burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked the two of you.

Realization struck you. “Fuck,” you grumbled. “No.”

“Why does that matter?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” Sam told him.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook—”

The three of you finished Sam’s sentence in unison, grinning. “We stop the Hook Man.”

“Well, back to the drawing board,” you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverend’s hospital room.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Do you know where the hook is?” you raised your eyebrows at him. 

He said nothing.

“Exactly,” you giggled.

***

Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought you’d found something. “Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary. ‘Karns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.’ “

“Does it mention the hook?” Sam asked you.

“I don’t know. ‘Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,’ “ you read aloud. “That’s where Lori’s dad preaches.”

“Where Lori lives, too?” Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past two hundred years,” Dean added.

“Yeah, but I think someone would’ve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hangin’ around the church or Lori’s house.”

Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. “Check the church records.”

Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. “ ‘St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.’ “ He sighed. “They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

“Goddammit,” you grumbled. 

Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances,” the older brother began. “Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Okay, take your pick,” you told him.

“I’ll take the house,” Sam responded.

“Dean and I will take the church, then.”

“We will?” the older brother asked.

“Yup.”

You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. “Hey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.

You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room. 

“I got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told you.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dean said. 

Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.

“Move, move,” Dean told you quietly.

You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver. 

“I feel for her,” you said quietly. “I know how much religion can fuck you up.” Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.

Dean turned his head to you. “You do?”

You nodded. “I’ve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.”

“Me too,” he said earnestly. “Probably why I don’t pray.”

“Well, it’s a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,” you remarked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’ve met one religious hunter.”

“I have,” you said. “My mom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was somehow still convinced of ‘God’s plan.’ “

“Catholic?”

“Oh, very.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied playfully.

“Yeah, me too,” you smiled. “My dad wasn’t, but, uh, he had his… other issues.”

Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.

“C’mon,” Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Man’s clunkily-moving apparition. 

Dean gruffly called to his brother, “Sam, drop!”

His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you said.

“So did I,” the older brother answered.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam’s voice was frantic.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked around and noticed Lori’s cross necklace. “Lori, where did you get that chain?”

“My father gave it to me,” she responded nervously.

“Where’d your dad get it?” Sam asked.

“He said it was a church heirloom,” she answered quickly. “He gave it to me when I started school.”

“Is it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall.  

You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, “I’ll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!” before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.

You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you would’ve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latter’s brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing. 

You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up. 

“And you saw him, too?” A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. “The man with the hook?”

“Yeah, we all saw him,” you responded. “We fought him off and then he ran.”

“And that’s all?” The sheriff was skeptical.

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen. You and those two boys—”

Dean came up behind you and answered for you. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once you’d gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car. 

“We could stay,” Dean suggested. 

You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasn’t ready for anything yet. He’d been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee

[sunshine-on-marz]

Sweeter

Dean Winchester x Reader

Setting: Highschool- Season 1

Being Dean’s favorite has some perks ;) and falling in love with him is.. well it’s a journey

Tw: canon level violence, parental death

You’d practically been thrown into Dean Winchester. You were both 16 years old and by some stroke of luck, two hunters’ kids wound up at the same school at the same time. You weren’t friends per se but you’d talked. But now, some girl was shoving you down the hall and screaming in your face about ‘stealing her boyfriend’.

“I didn’t sleep with your boyfriend!” You shout, an attempt to defend yourself without punching this girl in the nose. And you hadn’t slept with him, he just thought you were pretty and he’d been caught staring. “Yes you did!” She screeched as she poked your chest and pushed you back by your shoulders. You felt your back hit something- someone. Their hands fell to your hips as he moved you slightly to the side and stepped around you. “She said she didn’t do anythin’. Maybe your boyfriend just isn’t that into you.” It was Dean. He’d left one hand gently on your hips, despite having to reach back. You were completely zoned out while Dean talked to the girl, by the time you’re back to earth she’d stormed off and Dean crouched down slightly, right infront of your face. “Hey sugar, thought you got lost in that head of yours” Dean smiles, gently tapping your temple. You smile “I- uh- sorry. And thank you! You didn’t have to do that” you stumble over your words, but god, Dean’s smile made you forget all about your awkwardness. “I wanted to step in” he says, his smile doesn’t falter. “No really, that was sweet of you Dean” he stands back up, gently resting his hands back on your hips “you’re sweeter” he leans down and kisses the top of your head “now let’s get you to class” he slid the backpack off your shoulder and hooked it on his.

Dean swore to himself that day that not only would no one ever mess with you again as long as he’s around, you’d also, never again carry a bag if he could help it. So every morning, before the first bell he’d find you, take your bag, and walk you to your first period, and he’d walk you to every class after that.

One day, your parents didn’t pick you up from the bus, so Dean brought you back to the motel he was in, he introduced you to Sam and that little boy adored you from the first moment. Dean was content to just sit and watch you talk to Sam about school. Somewhere deep down Dean was happy someone was encouraging Sam to learn. Then your phone rang.

“Let me take this” you smile at Dean as you walk out the motel room. A minute or so later you walked back in, crying. “Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” Dean hardly got the words out before he was pulling you into his arms. “My parents” and that was all you had to say.

John, thankfully, took pity on a kid with no parents, so from that day on you were riding with the Winchesters.

And Dean? He was looking at you through the review with hearts in his eyes. Absolutely enamored he was, and Sam and his father wouldn’t let him forget it. With John, it was more of hitting Dean’s forearm to make him refocus. With Sam though? That kid was relentless.

“[y/n] and Dean sittin’ in a-“ Sam’s little song was cut off by Dean throwing a pillow across the room at him, then putting his arm back around your waist. Dean leans towards you “ignore him, he’s just being… he’s being Sam”. You chuckle at him “and Sam is my favorite Winchester”. Dean’s faux outrage somehow devolved too you writhing in his lap as he tickled you. The fun all stopped when the door lock clicked. Immediately the three of you sat straight up. John coming back from a hunt either meant packing and leaving or he immediately falls asleep. And waking up John Winchester is never a good option.

It was like this for years, pining between you and Dean that the both of you refused to acknowledge. Pining that only got harder to hide when Sam left. When it was just you Dean and John it meant that you and Dean found yourselves alone more often, with no little brother to tease you whenever the both of you held eye contact for a bit too long or let your hands brush while sitting on the sofa. Infact, at some point, you’d stopped hiding your closeness from John too. Allowing him to walk in on you curled up next to Dean watching a movie.

Dean never let you go on a solo hunt, not once. And in all honesty you were fine with that, when you wanted alone time bashing monster skulls wasn’t exactly your choice of self care.

Now, not too say he was distracted on hunts, but when he’d get a glimpse of you in the zone, it was sure to stick in his mind. And he always made sure to patch you up after hunts, he’d try and ignore the wound on his arm that probably needs stitched in favor of putting a bandage on your scraped elbow. He was sweet about it too, uncharacteristically sweet.

“This might sting doll” he says softly “but I’ve gotta clean it”, Dean presses a kiss to your shoulder while he dabs your cut with a cotton pad soaked in rubbing alcohol. “Dean I’m alright” you say, but the way you hissed in pain tells a different story. He shakes his head as he wraps your arm with a bandage. “Does this seem a bit like overkill to you?” Dean just smiled as you gestured to your arm “maybe, but maybe I just like taking care of you”

Sam coming back was one of the best things to ever happen to you both, especially once you three got back into a rhythm.

But along with Sam came his teasing.

“God you two are still at it?” Sam asked from across the motel. “At what?” Dean knew exactly what he was getting at, but acknowledging it meant he was admitting to everything Sam hinted at over the years, and well, Dean wasn’t ready for all that. “You know exactly what” you could practically hear Sam’s eye roll in his voice. “Enough you two” you lean into Dean’s side. “Yes ma’mm” Dean mumbled into your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

Dean was pissed, to say the least. He hadn’t wanted you on the hunt, but Sam stuck up for you, saying you’re perfectly capable, and now you’re unconscious in the backseat because of some kind of witch spell. “I said she shouldn’t come.” Dean mumbled as he reached back to grab your limp hand. “Dean I already said I’m sorry” Sam really did feel bad, but right now that wasn’t on the forefront of Dean’s mind. “I don’t give a damn how sorry you are! My girl is curled up in the backseat and she won’t wake up till God knows when because you wanted her on this hunt!” Dean wasn’t quite yelling, but his tone said enough. “Your girl?” Sam cocked his brow and leaned against the window “she isn’t yours just because you’re in love with her” Dean didn’t even try to hide his glare.

Dean carried you inside that night, laying you down in his motel bed. You and Dean have been sharing beds since you were 17, but it’s always different when you’re out cold. He kissed your cheek and took off your shoes. He’s so gentle with you, like always. Slowly your eyes start to open “Dean?” As soon as he hears your voice he walks to the head of the bed, gently cupping your cheeks “hey sweetheart, how ya feeling? Have sweet dreams?” Your little chuckle makes his stress fade immediately.

“Hey doll can I talk to ya?” Now the last time Dean asked that question was 6 months ago when he said he wanted to go pick up Sam. “Yea.. yea we can talk! What about?” You make room on the motel bed for him to sit, he does. “Now I’m just gonna say this and I need you to let me finish before you say anything back, alright?” You nod. “I think- no. I know I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years sweetheart. And I’ve spent years wondering what it’d be like to get with you. And not just get with you—actually be with you. Be your boyfriend. Be able to actually kiss you and stuff. And I know you dont feel the same, and that’s fine. That’s alright. But I had to tell you” you were in awe at his confession, all you did was lean into his chest. “Love you too Dean” he leans down and kisses the top of your head. “Can I kiss you?” He asks as he lifts your head up by hooking his thumb under your chin. “Yea you can” and that’s all the confirmation he needed to lean down and kiss you.

And after 10 years, you were finally dating Dean Winchester.

A/N: I LOVE how this turned out

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 19

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: Deep breaths, my friends. We’re almost to the end. ❤️

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Violence, peril, blood and guns, character death…

Part 19: “Sacrifice”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Dean’s wide eyes flicked up to John’s, and the other man sprang into action. He shot a look and a whispered order at Cas, who went running for some IP tracking equipment back in the police car.

Meanwhile, John guided Dean to sit down on the couch. Sam followed them on his brother’s right, while John sat on Dean’s left.

Dean put the phone on speaker between the three of them.

“You’re Daniel Savage, huh?” Dean said. He tried to inject some more control into his tone, like he wasn’t freaking the fuck out. “Man, do I feel special.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Dean-o. I’m doing the same thing your dad’s doing. Hooking the bigger fish.”

Dean’s lips pursed. He glanced at his father, but his attention on the phone turned steely.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked. “Your lackey’s on lockdown. So’s your bastard son. If you want to help him, I’d suggest you turn your ass over to the cops.”

“Yes, Nick’s an idiot. But family, right?” said Daniel. He breathed out a sigh.

But then his voice was firm and calculating. It made Dean’s skin crawl.

“Cards on the table, son. Your daddy’s got something of mine. I’ve got something of yours.”

Dean’s face hardened, but John raised a placating hand; a warning to keep calm. Dean tried to take a breath.

His heart clenched at the mere thought of you being in the same room with that man. Having been taken and hauled to God knows where. He couldn’t imagine how scared you were. And if you were hurt…

Fuck. There was a roiling pit forming in his stomach, his head starting to pound in time with his heartbeat.

Already Cas was back with a laptop and program designed to track the caller’s phone. He connected a USB-like cord to Dean's phone and began fiddling with the settings, trying to get a read. Dean knew he had to keep this fucker talking.

“You have her with you?” he asked.

“Sure do. She’s a pretty little thing.”

Dean’s jaw clenched in a furious glare. “Don’t you fucking touch her, you son of a bitch.”

“Quid pro quo, Dean. What can you do for me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as desperation began to escape him. “There’s no way they’re letting Nick go before the trial. It’s out of my dad’s hands.”

“Your dad has no real evidence that my son is anything more than a successful businessman,” said Daniel. “If you really need someone to pin these unfortunate murders on, you had your man in custody…but, oh wait. You gave him immunity.”

Dean’s eyes were desperate when they met Sam’s worried ones, then their father’s. It didn’t matter that John and Cas did have evidence besides Alastair’s testimony. All Dean cared about was you.

He swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. It’s what I want John to do.”

Dean took a moment to close his eyes, pull himself together. His hands squeezed his knees to brace himself. When he next opened his eyes, he let out a sharp breath.

“What do you want then? Aside from Nick somehow breaking loose,” he asked.

“I want your dad to back the fuck off, once and for all,” Daniel said. His voice was more edged, with both warning and a hint of frustration. “Or I’ll make his son live the same pathetic existence he does.”

Dean’s next breath came out harsher, as both John and Sam sharpened at the threat.

“That’s right, Dean. These are my terms of engagement, else I’m gonna have a bonfire with your girl here.” 

It all gripped Dean at once.

Panic, anger, and desperation.

He grabbed the phone and spoke harshly into the speaker.

“Put her on the damn line," he said. "I wanna hear her and know this isn’t a trick.”

Daniel sighed, like he was getting bored. “Oh, all right.”

There was some shuffling, the sound of Daniel’s steps echoing in what sounded like a large room. Dean’s brows furrowed as he heard sounds of your struggle, then your labored breaths, as if a gag had been removed from your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and talk to him,” said Daniel.

Soon enough, your tremulous voice reached him.

“Dean?” you said. You sounded like you were fighting tears; maybe even losing. Dean’s heart broke all the more for it.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice shook. He hoped you weren’t lying for his sake.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He raised a fist to his mouth, ignoring how it shook. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to find you—”

All too soon, the phone was taken away from you.

“Rule number one of negotiations, kid. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Dean’s eyes widened. The next thing he heard was a hard slap. It echoed into the speaker, along with your shout of both surprise and pain, a chair toppling over.

“You fucking bastard!” Dean seethed. “When I find you—”

John interrupted this time, taking the cell phone from Dean. He shot his son a look that was meant to be reassuring, but Dean was too incensed. Sam gripped his shoulder and earned his brother’s gaze. Dean’s chest heaved with the effort of calming his breathing.

“What do you want?” John said into the phone. His voice was clipped and direct.

While he continued to speak, Cas was frowning in frustration over his laptop.

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“I can’t get a lock on his signal. He must have something throwing off the scanner,” Cas replied.

Dean growled in frustration and pushed off the couch. He began to pace the living room, all while he tried to keep an ear on what John was saying lowly into the phone.

By the time he hung up, Dean was raging.

“Fuck this, I’m gonna find her,” he said. John tried to stop him from going anywhere with a hand on his shoulder. Dean knocked him off angrily. Sam also stood, for once on the same page as his father, no matter how much he sympathized.

“Dean, you need to calm down,” John tried.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t ask for this!” Dean shouted. The force of it echoed on the apartment walls. “Matter of fact, I’ve never asked you for a damn thing until now. Only that you’d keep me in the loop on Azazel, and keep her out of this. But you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

Sam was at a loss, looking between his father and brother. Cas was also caught in between, watching the scene with concern, and bated breath.

John’s broad shoulders sunk a bit, along with the deep breath he expelled.

“You’re right,” John said. "You're right, son. And I'm sorry."

His eyes held the weight of his words. Of sincerity. And by degrees, Dean’s anger lessened.

Again, not by much.

“Let’s fix it,” said John. “Once and for all.”

Dean wasn’t fully recovered from his TBI. He’d been cleared for driving, but not yet for full physical exercise, let alone going back to work. The stress of all this was giving him a powerful headache, but there was no way he was going to be sidelined now, on any part of it.

Sam was forced to withdraw the case against Nick Savage, citing lack of evidence to support a trial at this time. The judge gave Sam permission to refile when he was able to build a better case.

John was then tasked with escorting Nick out of prison. Cas, meanwhile, was sitting in his personal car outside the county jail with Dean in the passenger seat. Cas didn’t trust what his friend would do behind the wheel once he saw Nick.

“What happens after Nick gets out?” Dean asked. “Dad’s been cagey about the whole deal.”

“We’re escorting him to the airport,” Cas said. “There we’ll wait for Daniel and make the exchange.”

Nick, for you. That was the deal.

“And then?” Dean asked, his teeth already clenching.

Cas blew out a sigh. “We’ll have a unit waiting on standby. We’re going to try and get ahold of whoever has her, though I doubt Daniel will come himself.”

“What if you can’t catch him?” Dean pressed.

Cas didn’t want to have to tell his friend something he didn’t want to hear, but he didn’t make a habit of lying to Dean. He wasn’t about to start now.

“Then it’s over, for now,” he replied. “We each go back to our corners and regroup.”

“Dad’ll never stop hunting this guy,” Dean said.

“That may be,” Cas nodded. “But he does have a line.”  

“My father’s an obsessed bastard,” Dean groused. “He doesn’t have a damn line.”

Cas looked over at him then. He was calm and sympathetic, and yet, still disagreeing in his silence. Dean knew he was probably wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t care. He was still angry.

He perked up, however, when the prison doors slid open. Out came John escorting Nick and his lawyer, Amelia. Nick looked as smug as ever now that his cuffs were off. He was given the clothes he was arrested in—a blue silk shirt, pants, Italian leather shoes, and a silver Rolex watch.

Screw this, Dean thought. He unlocked the car from his side and climbed out. He didn’t care that he could hear Cas mutter a curse behind him and follow suit.

Nick saw Dean coming and couldn’t help but smirk, even as John grasped his arm and led him to his police car.

“Hey, fireman,” Nick taunted with his waggling brows. “Where’s our girl?”

Dean’s lips edged at a dangerous smile. Cas came up just behind him, ready to restrain him if need be.

“You can finesse your way out of this, but remember our little chat,” Dean said. His eyes burned with a thinly veiled threat. “Not a dime in this world can protect you from me.”

Nick pretended to shiver.

“Ooh, I’m so fucking scared,” he snarked. He resisted John’s manhandling and ripped his arm out of the other man’s grasp to step further into the open, leaving just a few yards between him and Dean.

“You can’t touch me,” Nick taunted. “You won’t dare. Not unless you want—”

Three shots rang out in the open clearing.

All heads ducked, but Dean’s eyes widened. He watched Nick crumple to the ground as scarlet red plumed in the man’s silk shirt. The shock etched on his face drained along with his life, leaving blue eyes staring up at a clear sky.

Forensics at the scene found traces of a sniper on the rooftop of a building directly across from the county jail.

John and Cas already were mounting an entire unit search in locating Alastair Rolston, but he had apparently moved out of his apartment as soon as he was released from prison with his immunity deal. (The police officers escorting him into witness protection had been found dead at the scene of his designated safe house.)

The detectives were later called into the medical examiner’s office on the case of Nick Savage—not to examine the body, but the bullets that had carved into his heart, right lung, and throat.

One of the bullets had a special casing. Inside was a rolled-up note, not unlike a carrier pigeon. It had a simple message:

JOHN — STULL STORAGE. COME ALONE.

Once again, Dean refused to sit idly. He’d pushed back hard enough that John had eventually relented. This time, however, Sam stepped in to make sure his brother was reigned in. Dean’s knee was already bouncing with anticipation and nervousness.

It was nearly midnight on a Tuesday. The brothers sat in the surveillance van with Jody Mills, all wearing protective Kevlar vests as precaution. The van was removed from the immediate site of Stull Storage, which was made up of a main warehouse and several rows of storage units on the other side. 

Cas was leading another police unit on standby, but John was going into the warehouse. He wore his usual leather jacket over his rumpled shirt, pants, and boots, but also a protective vest and hidden wire under his collar.

Sam, Dean, and Jody were able to listen in as John entered alone.

He had a flashlight positioned over his raised gun as he walked into the building. He found some light switches along the wall and was able to turn on half the room’s fluorescent ceiling lights.

He heard a whimper.

Moving towards the sound cautiously, John soon found you tied to a chair. You looked a bit worse for wear; though you were dressed for an interview in black slacks and a blouse, your hair was in disarray, your cheek still sported a fading red mark, and you likely had other bumps and bruises.

Your eyes widened with hope when you saw John. You made sounds of surprise around the gag tied in your mouth, but he shushed you with a finger held to his lips.

He went over to you after lowering his gun, cocking back the safety, and re-holstering. He went to untie the gag first. You breathed deeply when it was gone.

“You okay?” he asked, touching your arm in comfort.

“Yeah,” you nodded, but your widening eyes still darted behind him.

Another safety clicked back. John immediately drew his gun again and turned. He was met with the man of the hour.

Standing mere feet away with his own gun was Daniel Savage. AKA: Azazel.

“Ooh, you’re getting old, John,” he said with a smirk. “Wasn’t expecting to get the drop on you so easily.”

John subtly moved so he was standing in front of you. He hadn't had time to untie you from the chair. Your breathing came out shallow as you tried to spy around John to your captor.

“Daniel,” John greeted. “It’s about time, wouldn’t you say?”

“You cheated though,” said Daniel, despite his cocky smirk. Like father like son. “I know you’ve got a team waiting in the wings.”

“If you wanna get technical, you cheated first,” John pointed out.

Daniel shrugged. Behind him came around ten of his own hired men, armed with their own guns. “Hate the player, hate the game, my friend.”

John’s lips pursed, but he didn’t lower his gun. He had a straight shot at Daniel’s chest.

“Even if you do get off a shot, you’ll be Swiss cheese where you stand,” Daniel said. 

“Small price to pay for ending your miserable fucking life,” John remarked.

Daniel’s brows rose. “Are you gonna make her pay for it too?”

He gestured behind John, where he glanced back at your face. Your red-rimmed eyes were shining with tears. And John knew that once his gun fired, his body would hit the ground. Yours wouldn’t be far behind.

His brows furrowed, and the hands holding his weapon wavered.

“So how you do think this is gonna play out?” John asked.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to drop that damn gun,” said Daniel. He cocked his own weapon. “Then, you’re going to get down on your knees and take this bullet, like putting down a rabid dog. Then maybe, I’ll let her go before the cops rush in.”

John’s hesitation was mere seconds. He clicked the safety back on. He set down his gun, and lowered to his knees in slow movements.

Your eyes widened further as incredulous tears slipped down your cheeks. You shook your head.

“Don’t!” you said shakily. 

John didn’t look back at you this time, but he did answer you.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said.

Daniel’s grim smile made you shiver.

“What a caring father-in-law,” he said, and he slowly stalked forward. “You know, I prided myself on delegating my operations well. Oh, it was a well-oiled machine back in the day. But some things…well, some things are just better handled yourself. Know what I mean?”

He tilted his head down at John.

“For example: I really regret the way I had your wife killed,” he said. “For all the trouble you’ve given me, I wish I’d actually burned the bitch myself.”

John glared up at the man with pure fury and hatred.

Though his eyes widened when the first shot split the air, and buried a bullet in Daniel’s left arm. Daniel shouted in pain as he unconsciously dropped his gun. John dove for it, and everything started to happen at once.

Daniel kicked at John’s chest while holding his wounded arm, tossing the other man back. John rolled onto his feet, and their full out brawl began. Meanwhile, a unit of police officers swarmed into the warehouse and sparked a shootout with Daniel’s men.

And in all of this, Cas came out from behind your line of vision to untie you. He wore a protective vest over his usual white dress shirt, now rolled up to the elbows.

“Cas!” you gasped. He gave you a smile, then used a pocketknife to cut through the zip ties holding your wrists behind you and your ankles to the chair.

“Come on, let’s go.” He helped you up and guided you out the back of the warehouse.

The last coherent sound Sam and Dean heard was a bullet fired and hitting its target. They couldn’t tell if it was John or Daniel that had been hit, or even you.

Above all things, Dean was a man of action.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck this,” he growled. He got to his feet and went for the door of the surveillance van, but while Jody voiced her protest, it was Sam who reached him first.

“Dean, stop! You can’t go out there!” Sam said.

“The hell I can’t,” Dean said. The punch he reared back and threw was precise when it cracked Sam in the cheek. He went down hard. It was all Jody could do to keep him from knocking his head on the metal floor, but Sam was out cold, with his hair flopped over his face.

"Dean!" Jody yelled after him. She stared after the open door of the van with wide, worried eyes.

There were rows upon rows of storage units behind the warehouse. It felt like a maze in itself, one that you and Cas were forced to navigate alone in the crisp January night. Both of you saw your breath on the air as you tried to move quickly, but quietly.

Until a long arm reached out on the other side of a unit, and a hand closed on Cas’s gun, pushing it down and ripping it out of his hands. An elbow cracked into his face, making him grunt and stumble.

Your scream of surprise echoed in the night. You stared up into the familiar face of Alastair, whose mouth formed a sly grin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said.

Cas distracted him with a blow that Alastair blocked, but it gave Cas room to break the taller man’s stance and knock his head against the unit wall—once, twice, until the man stumbled and fell. He wasn’t knocked out, but Cas didn’t wait for Alastair to recover. He grabbed you and forced you to run.

“I thought he was in protective custody for the trial,” you said, through huffing breaths.

“Evidently he escaped,” Cas replied.

“God, Cas. You really need to hand out some pink slips,” you said, with a tremor in your voice. The police were supposed to have been watching you as well, before you were kidnapped. Cas conceded your point.

“We really shouldn’t have given him immunity,” he grumbled.

Dean knew he was being some kind of idiot.

Knew it as he carefully approached a side door of the warehouse. His vest wouldn’t protect his whole body if he entered the no man’s land shootout he could hear happening on the other side of the door.

Already he could see policemen escorting some of Azazel’s captured team around the front exit. Dean kept to the shadows, and he cracked the side door open.

There was still plenty going on inside. A few bodies were already strewn across the dusty warehouse floor. Large crates stacked up to the ceiling offered meager protection for both sides of the siege, including Dean as he kept to the wall and slid his way inside and behind a formation of wooden crates. He scanned the room until he found his dad.

John was fighting hand-to-hand with who had to be Daniel Savage. Even though the latter had blood dripping from his arm, John had his share of bruises and scrapes, including a long cut across his cheek from the knife clenched in Daniel’s non-injured right hand.

What the hell do I do? Dean assessed the situation, his eyes darting quickly between the men. He came in here without a weapon (another smart move). He went through most of the training a million years ago, but Dean wasn’t a police officer. He was a firefighter.

However, when he spotted a forgotten Glock on the floor, just a few yards away where the men were still tousling, Dean inched his way closer. He’d have to leave the relative safety of the crates and throw himself out into the open to reach the gun. At this point, Daniel was closer.

And he’d noticed the gun too, at the same time that John glanced up and saw his son. His eyes widened, and just for a moment he lost his grip on Daniel. The other man went for the gun at the same time Dean dove.

John yanked Daniel back by his collar and kneed him in the stomach. But Daniel had the longer reach. He cracked an elbow into John’s face and followed by a swift punch to the gut. John grunted and doubled over at the impact to his already battered ribs and stomach.

Daniel threw him head-first into a pile of nearby crates. He was breathing hard, but his lips twitched in satisfaction at the way John fell into a heap of broken wood. The detective was clearly waning.

Daniel stalked forward. Ignoring his still bleeding shoulder, he grabbed John by the jacket and collar of his shirt and hefted him up to his feet, prepared to deliver another blow. The cocking of a nearby gun made him pause. But in a moment, he twisted John in front him with an arm wrapped around his neck to face his next attacker.

While Daniel had been distracted, Dean had managed to dive and roll across the concrete, scooping up the gun on his way back onto his feet. Now he’d had the time to take aim and wait for his moment, which was right fucking now.

Slowly, Daniel tilted his head to look past John’s shoulder. He was met with Dean’s smirk and a gun pointed directly at his head.

“I think I’ve got something of yours,” Dean remarked. His fingers slid over the trigger.

Daniel tilted his head. A dry smile edged at the corner of his lips. “All right, Dean. Well played. But…”

He tightened his arm around John’s throat and held the knife poised at his neck.

“We’re at what you’d call an impasse, don’t you think?” Daniel asked.

“Dean,” John said. He met his eldest’s gaze as uncertainly crept into Dean’s stance. His hand was still held aloft, but there was an almost imperceptible shake.

“Just shoot him,” said John, with full conviction. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s mouth pressed into a line, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t doing that.

“See, I don’t think he’s got it in ‘im,” Daniel said, speaking lowly in John’s ear. His knife tightened against John’s neck. “You’re out of your fucking depth, Dean.”

Dean flinched as a bullet zoomed past his head from across the room. He was reminded that there was still a fight going on, and the three of them were very much out in the open. John’s face turned more urgent, with thinly veiled worry.

“Dean, either shoot him or get the hell out of here,” he said tersely.

“I’m not leaving,” Dean said, with a small, stubborn shake of his head. But he was nervous. Despite how close he’d come with Nick Savage, Dean had never shot at someone, let alone taken a life. The gun was heavy in his hand.

“Running out of time, son,” Daniel taunted.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean gritted out. “Speaking of, did you have Alastair do your dirty work, taking out Nick, or did you pull that trigger yourself?”

Daniel’s smirk faded, his gaze tightening with resignation.

“Sacrifices, Dean,” he said. “We make ‘em to survive. To make sure our legacies survive.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he looked at this man, and he finally understood what his dad had been trying to tell him.

He ain’t a man. He’s a monster.

The gun was heavy in his hand…

“Come on, Dean!” Daniel shouted. “Make a decision—”

Dean still remembered most things he’d learned at the Police Academy. He’d lived, ate, sweat, and breathed those drills and tests for months. And yet, there was only one score he’d truly been proud of. It was the one record of his dad’s that he’d managed to beat.

You could guess which one.

Dean let his fingers squeeze the trigger on some instinct he couldn’t name. Daniel was forced to choke on his words.

Cas pulled you around the corner of a storage unit that blocked the light of the moon. It was just in time for a bullet to rip past where his head used to be.

You leaned heavily against the wall and heaved for breath, but Cas held a finger to his lips while he tried to calm his own breathing.

You held a hand over your mouth to try and stifle the sounds from getting out. Your eyes were wide and panicked, but Cas could only reassure you with a brief hand on your shoulder. He nodded and signaled with his free hand. Wait.

You gave a jerky nod in return. So he reached for his belt and brandished the only weapon he had left—the knife he’d used to cut through your bonds. The air was quiet, except for the distant shouts of police officers; it sounded like Azazel’s men were finally being rounded up.

Cas had called for backup earlier, but he didn’t think they could wait for it. Nor would he know if they were coming. He’d long since turned off the radio on his belt so that it couldn’t tip off his position with you.

He chanced looking around the wall of the storage unit. The coast looked clear, though he knew it wasn’t. Still, the best Cas could hope for was to cover you on the way back to the police barricade. He leaned back and reached for you. He guided you, both with his eyes and a hand on your back.

On the count of three, run, he mouthed. You wordlessly agreed. He saw the fear shining in your eyes.

One…two…

An arm shot out to grab Castiel’s collar the moment he stepped out from his cover, making you scream. The first punch came swift; Alastair was taller, perhaps stronger, but Cas recovered quickly.

He ducked the other man’s arm and delivered an uppercut that had his adversary careening back. With a well-placed jab to the wrist, Alastair’s gun clattered away across the ground.

Cas managed to shoot you a quick look. “Run. Now!”

You paused for a mere moment while Cas continued to grapple with Alastair. Then, in your frozen fear, you finally managed flight. And you took off running, even though Alastair tried to grab at your hair. Cas held him back and continued the fight.

You’d only managed a few yards of distance though, before you couldn’t help but look back. Something in you just couldn’t leave Cas behind.

You took cover behind another storage unit and watched Alastair slowly get the upper hand. He managed to pin Cas against the ribbed metal wall of a unit. He winced as it dug into his spine, but he had bigger problems.

He spat blood after the third blow to his jaw and tried to blink dark spots of his vision. Alastair looked down on him with the lean look of a predator. His smile betrayed the enjoyment he took in his work.

“Contrary to what you might think, I’ve never killed a cop before,” he said. “Just a cop’s wife.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction. Alastair’s smile deepened. He raised a bloody fist to finish his work, but he winced and weakened with a shout as a knife embedded deep in his thigh.

It was Cas’s knife that you’d found on the ground.

Alastair’s angry eyes looked down and met your scared ones. You let go of the knife and scrambled back. He backhanded you roughly. You cried out and fell hard on the pavement.

Alastair reached for the knife, but Cas grabbed it first. He twisted as he yanked it out, then jabbed it into the taller man’s neck. It choked his scream as he stumbled back. And yet, even that didn’t manage to kill him.

Cas dove for the fallen gun. It was mere feet away from where he’d forced it out of Alastair’s grip. Cas felt a hand grab his shoulder. He reacted fast—he turned and shot two rounds of hot led into Alastair’s gut.

His gray eyes went wide. Blood gurgled in his mouth.

And slowly, Alastair slid to the ground.

Cas was bloody, his shirt stained and torn, but he was still standing with ragged breath. You had managed to sit up, though your shocked eyes were trained on the body you’d just seen fall into a heap. The horrific spell of it broke when Cas gently touched your shoulder.

You gasped and raised your head.

“It’s okay,” he said, reaching a hand to you. “It’s over.”

Cas escorted you back to the police barricade. There you found Sam, and the mere sight of him relieved you so much you didn’t realize you were crying when you stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight and asked if you were all right.

You couldn’t give him an honest answer, but at least you were alive.

“I’m okay,” you said tremulously, but you pulled back at grasped his arms. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam looked anxious as his gaze flit between you and Cas.

“That goddamn idiot, he went in there! They won’t let me through—”

“What?” Cas said incredulously. “Into the warehouse?”

Your tears fell anew as a new frantic worry took hold, churning in your stomach and making you feel sick. You turned, and both Cas and Sam had to stop you from heading towards the warehouse.

“Get him out of there!” you cried. “Dean!”

You tried to push past Cas and his attempts to calm you, but you stopped the moment you saw him…

Dean was helping John limp out of the warehouse. Jody was on John’s other side, supporting him as well. John looked beat to hell, and exhausted, but there was no mistaking the calm look on his face. Like he’d finally sleep tonight.

Dean, on the other hand, looked pale, haggard, and worried. However, his head perked up as soon as he heard your voice. His eyes widened. He turned to Jody to make sure she could support John on her own, and she nodded at him.

It let Dean make his way straight for you.

Sam and Cas finally released you, like a horse waiting to bolt out of the stables. Your tears blurred your vision as you went to him.

When Dean swept you up into his arms, you were able to throw yours around his neck and cling to him for all you were worth. You buried your face into his neck and sobbed your relief.

You wouldn’t know that Dean’s eyes were shining and red, his mouth trembling slightly as he sucked in a breath and held you as tight as he dared. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, over your wild hair. His lips pressed to the side of your head as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, when he was able to speak.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, though his question prompted you to pull back and find his face. Your heels came back to the ground, and you reached up to stroke his cheek and search his gaze.

“What about you?” you asked tremulously. “Your head?”

“’M fine,” he said. Though the truth was, he was reeling. His ears still rung from the bullet that hit Daniel between the eyes.

The weight of that decision was almost too fresh to be real, but it was heavy on Dean all the same. He could even get in legal trouble for this. He wasn’t supposed to have entered that building. Hell, he’d picked up a gun and shot a man.

Though he already knew what Sam would say.

Justification. Imminent danger. Self-defense.

Dean just didn’t know if that would fly here, especially with the Fire Department.

Right now, however, you were his lifeline. You grounded him in reality when you held his face in your hands. Just beyond you, he could see the relief on both Sam and Cas’s faces.

Dean gave them a smile, but he focused back on you. He held your hand to his cheek.

“Promise me you’re gonna stay put for a while,” he quipped. “Preferably where I can see you.”

You scoffed at him through the tears glittering in your eyes.

“Dean Winchester, if that isn’t the most hypocritical thing that’s ever come out of your mouth!” you said, punctuating your words with a slap on his chest.

“Hey!” he protested, but you ignored him. You gripped his shirt and felt the Kevlar underneath. It might’ve protected his chest, but he hadn’t had anything to protect his damn head.

“You run into fires, not bullets, you idiot,” you said, now wiping frustrated tears from your cheek.

Dean’s tension began to ease with a smile. He held you more securely, pulling you flush against him.

“You sound like Bobby,” he teased.

“Good!” you snapped. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that. Do you hear m—?”

He didn’t think he’d ever miss you giving him shit, but this time, it just made him smile until the corners of his eyes crinkled. Shortly before he cut you off with a searing kiss.

You made a sound of surprise, even as you gripped at his shirt, then his face to keep him there. You both knew this night was long from being over. An even longer way from recovering.

But for now, this was a good start.

AN: And so, we're drawing near to the end. 🥹 What did you think of the respective ends of Nick and Daniel Savage, and even Alastair? And of course, her and Dean's reunion. 💗

Soon (this weekend), we have the epilogue...

Next Time:

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he took your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little...

Keep Reading: THE EPILOGUE

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways

[pagannatural]

1.13

-Route 666

-Sam’s hackles are up the minute Dean says they’re dropping everything to help a woman he knows. Sam is alternately irritated and amused by Dean’s trysts but he draws the line at someone else actually being important to Dean.

Sam acts exactly like a jealous wife. He says “so by old friend you mean…?” And then he crosses his arms and accuses “you never mentioned her” and “you mean you dated someone. For more than one night.”

-Sam is even angrier to find out Dean told Cassie he’s a hunter.

He looks like a scorned wife. He never told Jess, who he wanted to marry, the truth about his life shared with Dean. In the pilot, before she died, Dean challenged Sam by asking, Does she know the truth about you? She didn’t, she couldn’t know this part of Sam that Dean knows. Now Sam finds out that there is someone else in Dean’s life who knows their secrets. He’s threatened.

-Cassie is ridiculously beautiful and likable. Sam is too sweet to hold anything against her.

-Sam is paying very close attention to Cassie and Dean. He’s studying them, which means it’s really important to him to figure out what’s going on between them. He observes to Dean that she’s fearless and wouldn’t take his shit. He notices that they don’t look at each other at the same time, that they have unfinished business.

-Sam and Cassie are a lot alike. She’s educated, she stands up for herself and speaks her mind, and she’s the type to call Dean out. Dean specifically told Sam he admired the fact that Sam stands up for himself and goes after what he wants, and we know Sam challenges Dean all the time. Reporters also tend to do quite a bit of research, which is Sam’s thing. She was even in college at the same time Sam was, when she and Dean dated.

Dean met her and had the most serious relationship of his life during that first year Sam was away at college. John wrote in his journal something about Dean talking to a woman who is a reporter about Sam on Sam’s 20th birthday as they leave Athens, Ohio. Dean probably sought comfort from Cassie about missing Sam and definitely told her about him. Dean tried to fill the Sam-shaped hole in his life with Cassie.

-Dean can either have Sam or he can have a girlfriend (or he can have neither) but he can’t have both.

-Sam won’t let this go. He’s kind of teasing Dean about it but then he gets serious when he says “you loved her.” His vibe changes again when he guesses that she was the one who dumped him. He looks hurt. He probably thought he was the only one who had ever dumped Dean.

It makes him so insecure.

-Did Sam just think that Dean would never fall in love or get into a relationship? Is this the first time he’s considering that possibility?

-Sam reflects that when he was at college his life was so simple. Something about this particular case makes Sam miss when his life was less complicated, and the only thing different about this case is that Dean has feelings for someone. It would fit with Sam running away from his feelings for Dean.

-Sam coughs loudly when Dean and Cassie kiss and tells Dean to admit he’s still in love with her. Dean doesn’t. Imagine Sam’s face if he had.

-Sam watches Cassie and Dean kiss goodbye and then looks away with this expression on his face

-He asks Dean if a girl like Cassie ever makes Dean question if what they’re doing (hunting) is worth it. He also says he likes her, like he’s giving his approval. He’s doing the same thing Dean did in Hook Man, seeing if his brother wants to stay behind for a love interest.

They’re testing each other. They’re pushing to see who will leave first. Sam’s abandonment issues come from not feeling chosen and feeling left out, left on his own constantly while Dean and their dad hunted, the odd one out. It’s part of why he left in the first place. He thinks Dean needs his help, but he doubts that Dean would truly choose him when it came down to it. Before this he thought that Dean was choosing hunting over him, but now the possibility arises that he could choose another person. He thinks now that this is what Dean truly wants.

-Dean doesn’t answer Sam’s question outright. He just looks at Sam with so much love and tenderness and tells him to wake him up when it’s his turn to drive. There was never any contest.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Rage Monster

John Winchester x daughter!reader, Sam and Dean x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you have a bit of a “girl rage” moment, and the men don’t know how to react.

It was just one of those mornings. Everything, from the sound of your alarm to the sound of Sam and Dean’s chattering, was driving you absolutely insane. There was no particular reason for it, you just couldn’t deal with…anything.

“Hey kid, ready to go?”

Especially this. Driving all day in Dean’s car with his annoying music, stuck in a confined space with three men.

You were tired of it, to say the least, and you weren’t sure you could handle it today.

“Y/N?” John’s voice broke through your consciousness, and you looked up. “C’mon, it’s time to go.”

“Fine,” you hadn’t meant for the word to come out so aggressively, but based on John’s reaction, that’s how it came out.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam cut in before John could respond.

“Peachy,” you rolled your eyes.

“Someone’s grumpy this morning,” Dean said.

“Maybe because my brother’s a douchebag,” even though you mumbled it, you knew everyone in the room could hear.

“Hey, that’s enough!” John barked. “What is the matter with you?”

“Could you guys get off my case for five minutes?”

“Go wait in the car,” John demanded. “If you’re not gonna watch your tone, then you’re not gonna speak, understand?”

You knew you should quit while you were behind, but your anger was now more potent then ever.

“Fine! Any minute I get to spend away from you guys is a blessing!” You stormed out of the room, slamming the motel door behind you.

Dean was the first to break the silence.

“What the heck was that?”

…

John was the first one to venture out to the car, instructing the boys to stay in the motel.

He stayed silent for a long minute after he entered the Impala. If it was one of the boys, he would’ve started talking right away, demanding an explanation for that kind of behavior. But he’d learned somewhere along the line that things turned out better between you and him if he let you think things out.

Of course, if the next words out of your mouth were something sassy, he wouldn’t hesitate to set you straight. But he had a feeling that you weren’t as angry as you thought you were.

“I’m sorry,” your voice broke the silence, and John expertly hid the smile that threatened to creep up. He wasn’t about to let you off the hook so easily, and he certainly wasn’t going to let you see his relief.

“What was all that?”

“I don’t know,” John nearly cringed at the sound of your voice, which was thick and high-pitched. You were trying not to cry. You didn’t often cry, so he usually didn’t have to worry about it, but every once in a while it would happen, and he didn’t know what to do.

When the boys got emotional, it usually ended in some kind of loud argument, which he knew how to handle. Your emotions, however, sometimes came out differently.

“I’m gonna need something better than that.”

“I really don’t know,” you fisted your sleeves in your hands, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It—I just…I’m sorry, really. I’m just…tired, I guess.”

This was a pathetic excuse, and both of you knew it. But John was almost certain that you were being honest with him.

“Ok,” he said finally.

“Ok?”

“Well, no, what you did was not ok,” he admitted. “But I forgive you. But I don’t ever wanna hear that tone again, understand?”

“Yes sir,” your voice was clearer now, but you kept your face dropped down against your knees.

“If you’re feeling like that again, just say something and we’ll leave you be. But there’s no excuse for snapping like that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey, look at me,” John finally let a ghost of a smile show on his face when your eyes met his, and you reciprocated it. “Well now that this is all cleared up, I think we should hit the road. But I think you should take a nap back here, alright? I’ll tell Dean to turn his music down, and we’ll leave you alone for a bit.” This was both a way to keep tensions down, and perhaps a way to get you to think about how you’d been acting. John was pretty proud of that little bit of parenting.

“Ok,” you agreed.”

John smiled again.

“Ok.”

[dianawinchester03]

Senior Prom

Series Masterlist

Summary: Going to prom has always been an everlasting dream of y/n, and she’d be damned if her father didn’t let her go. Willing to do anything to get one last taste of a somewhat-normal high-school life.

(Y/N and Sam are 18 years old and Dean is 22 years old)

BASED ON:

The Old Testament Series.

Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Rewrite (Dean Winchester x Reader) by @dianawinchester03

👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓

Authors Note: Since ‘Senior Prom with Sammy’ won the poll I did. I decided to post it since I’m still yet to update Genesis. A lil sum sum to ease our minds lol. I hope everyone likes! I’ve had it in my drafts for a while, it’s been waiting to see the light of day so here you go❤️

👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓

Lake Preston, South Dakota

•2001

“Please, Dad! It's just prom, what harm could it cause?!” Y/N exclaimed frustrated. “Y/N/N, it's not just 'prom'. It's a school event, full of teenagers who are more interested in hooking up than anything else.” F/N grunted, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Mr. L/N, we promise we won't do anything stupid. We just want to have a good time with our friends.” Sam pleaded. “I understand that, son. But your safety is my top priority. You two know the rules.” F/N shook his head and an idea popped into y/n mind.

“Let Dean chaperone then. Please dad, I’ve never asked you for anything. I know I yell and I’m not perfect but this is the last night we have. Since I came out of juvie, this is all I’ve been looking forward to. Please” Y/N tried to reason with him.

F/N took another drag on his cigarette, his expression softening slightly as he looked at Y/N. He could see the pleading desperation in her eyes, the genuine desire to experience something normal for once. He glanced over at Sam, who was standing beside Y/N, a hopeful expression mirrored on his face.

"No, end of discussion" he snapped, his voice stern. Sam’s head hung in defeat, “Yes sir” He sighed before strolling out of the room, moping while Y/N stood with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her father.

“You’re kidding me right?!” Y/N gritted her teeth, her heart aching after seeing the look of defeat on her best friends face. F/N dropped the stern look after Sam left the room, turning his daughter. He rolled his eyes, knowing his daughter was about to let one rip on him, but he had another plan in mind. “Don’t get snippy with me missy. Here” he stuck his cigarette between his lips, holding it in place before fishing his fraud credit card out of his wallet and handing it to his little girl.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as her father handed her the fake credit card. She looked at him with skeptical question. "Your credit card...?" she echoed, her voice trailing off. F/N chuckled, taking the cigarette from his lips and flicking some ash into the nearby ashtray.

"That's right. You'll need money for a dress, shoes, and whatever other girly crap you're gonna need. And buy a suit for Sasquatch too, but don’t tell him until after" he explained. Y/N squealed with excitement, she thought she would’ve had to sneak out and go. Her heart swelled with joy as she grappled her father into a firm hug.

F/N chuckled as Y/N tackled him into a tight hug. He patted her back affectionately, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, daddy. Thank you, thank you!” Y/N squealed. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too" he muttered gruffly, but the warmth in his voice showed he was secretly pleased with her reaction.

As F/N watched Y/N race out of the living room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall, he couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew that he and John could be tough on the kids, but deep down, he wanted them to have the best in life, even if that meant breaking some rules.

As if on cue, John appeared in the doorway, his expression quizzical. "What was all that racket about?" he asked, his voice gruff. F/N took a drag on his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke before replying. "Y/N and Sam want to go to their prom. She begged and pleaded until I caved" he explained.

John's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "You let them go?" he asked, his voice tight with disapproval. “You don’t get snippy with me either, Winchester” F/N snapped, mimicking John’s expression, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray. “I didn’t like the idea either but you know how y/n/n is. She would’ve sneaked out and gone either way and Sam would’ve followed her. This way, we know they’re safe” F/N grunted.

John clearly didn’t agree, rolling his eyes at his best friend's habit to cave when it comes to his daughter. John ran a hand over his face, his expression tight with frustration. "I know she's tenacious, but you can’t just give in whenever she throws a fit" he protested.

"You think I don’t know that?" F/N snapped back, his voice rising with irritation. "But what was I supposed to do? She's never asked me for anything. Ever." John sighed heavily, clearly still not pleased with the situation. "They’ll need someone to keep an eye on them. Just in case."

“She suggested Dean chaperone. I gave her my card to buy clothes her and Sam, no doubt she’ll buy something for Dean too” F/N explained, a sly smile played on his face for a second, knowing his daughter is probably gonna give Dean hell to chaperone. The elder Winchester would cave to Y/N’s demands too, it made him chuckle a bit.

“They’re kids, John. They deserve a break” F/N sighed. John's expression softened a bit as F/N explained the situation. He knew all too well how persistent Y/N could be when she wanted something.

"She's gonna drive Dean up the wall if he agrees to chaperone," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He’s gonna agree” F/N assured John with a snort. “They do deserve a break," John conceded reluctantly, "but they’re also hunters, and hunters need to be alert and vigilant at all times. A high school dance is a risky environment."

“The worst that’s gonna happen is someone spiking the punch bowl” F/N scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal. “And they’re not stupid enough to drink it” He added. John shot his best friend a skeptical look, clearly not convinced.

"You're underestimating the chaos that high school dances can bring" John listed off. "Not to mention the hormonal teenagers, the peer pressure, and the drama." F/N rolled his eyes, "You worry too much."

“Clearly not, because she literally just got out of juvie a couple of months ago for beating a girl's ass” John retorted. John’s blunt reminder about Y/N’s recent stint in juvie sent a pang of guilt through F/N’s chest. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know, that’s why I’m a little hesitant about this whole prom thing" he admitted. "She’s got a temper but Dean’s gonna be there. it’s gonna be fine” F/N assured him. “Famous last words” John muttered, causing F/N to roll his eyes as John sank into the couch across from him. “Besides the point, I think I’ve got a hunt.”

F/N perked up at John's words, the mention of a hunt immediately grabbing his attention. "What kind of hunt?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

____________________________________________

A couple of days later, Y/N and Dean stood in a clothing store, surrounded by racks of colorful outfits. Y/N had her fingers on her chin, studying the various dresses on display, while Dean leaned against a nearby wall, a disinterested expression plastered on his face.

"Dude, c’mon, just pick something already," he groaned. “If you complain one more time, I WILL make you wear a pink bow tie” She threatened with a firm finger. Dean shot Y/N a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow at her threat. "You wouldn't dare" he challenged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Try me, Winchester” She retorted, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ll even top it off with a pink bow on your head” She smirked, turning back to the rack. Y/N ruffled through the racks until her eye landed on a sweetheart black ruffled long dress with a slit going up to the mid right thigh.

‘This is it. This is the one’ She said in her head, smiling widely.

Y/N took it off the rack before turning to Dean, showing it to him. Dean's eyes widened as he looked at the dress Y/N held up. It was undeniably beautiful, but it was also... girly as hell. "You want to wear that?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“It’s hot, I’m gonna go try it on” She rolled her eyes before rushing over to the changing room. Dean stood there, watching Y/N disappear into the changing room with a mix of amusement and resignation. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Of course she's gonna choose something 'hot'. Why did I even bother agreeing to come with her?" he muttered to himself.

-

Soon after, Y/N emerged from the dressing room in the dress. Dean was now sitting in-front of the room on the couch, reading a magazine. Dean heard the curtains of the changing room being pulled open and looked up, expecting to see Y/N looking somewhat normal. But when he saw her, his jaw dropped.

The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, the sweetheart neckline revealing a subtle hint of cleavage. The black fabric accentuated her skin, and the ruffles gave the dress a subtle feminine touch.

"Whoa..." he muttered, his eyes widened in surprise. “Say it, I look hot” Y/N smirked triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips.

Dean cleared his throat, attempting to look unaffected by her appearance. “Meh, I’ve seen better” he shrugged, looking back down at his magazine.

A coat rack went flying at his head, the culprit with a glare shooting his way. Y/N stood with her arms crossed.

“Say it” she repeated, her voice firm.

“Fine, you look hot” Dean grumbled, looking back up at her.

Y/N’s face broke out into a victorious grin, knowing she had coaxed a compliment out of him.

“Jesus, if I knew just throwing a coat rack at you would get me a compliment, I would’ve done it years ago” She snorted, reaching to unzip the dress but was unsuccessful. “Help me outta this dress, we’ll go get my shoes after and then we’ll shop for yours and Sam’s clothes” She mumbled, reaching behind to unzip but failing.

Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling slightly at her comment. He put the magazine down and pushed himself off the couch.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say" he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He walked over to Y/N and unzipped the dress with ease, his hands brushing against her exposed skin as he did so.

A blush rose to y/n face as her breath hitched, a simple touch from Dean had her heated already. But she quickly schooled the act and went back into the dressing room. Stripping out of her clothes, changing back into her usual wear and making her way back of Dean.

-

“Ready, charming?” She asked after paying for the dress. Dean chuckled at her sarcastic nickname for him, but nodded. "Sure, princess" he said with a mock bow. "Lead the way." Y/N threw her head back laughing at his mock bow, leading the way out of the store.

-

Now in the gentleman’s store, Y/N shoved the outfit into Dean's hands, a black bow tie and three piece suit. Pushing him into the dressing room to try it on. Dean walked into the changing room, holding the suit and bowtie in his hands. He took in a deep breath as he looked down at the bowtie, silently cursing himself for agreeing to go shopping with Y/N.

After a few moments, he re-emerged from the dressing room, looking less than pleased with what he was wearing. The suit fit him perfectly, hugging his toned frame in all the right places. But the bowtie around his neck looked ridiculously out of place.

Y/N laughed at the way the bow tie hung, getting up from her chair to help him fix it. “Jesus dude, I’ve shown you how to do this like a million times” She chuckled, fixing the bow tie.

"I know, I know" Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes as Y/N fussed over the bowtie. He watched her with feigned annoyance, but secretly he enjoyed a moment when she was so close to him. Feeling the heat of her body against his, the scent of her perfume.

"You know, you're enjoying this too much," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “You know I always had a thing for playing dress up” She said snidely before taking her hands off his tie. “Okay, now to Sammy’s outfit” She clapped excitedly

Dean chuckled at her comment, shaking his head. "Of course you do."

-

The pair headed to the next department, where they found a selection of suits for men. Y/N immediately started rifling through the racks with excitement, her eyes scanning for something Sam would like.

“Maybe we should get him something to match your three piece suit?” Y/N suggested, rubbing her chin as she thought deeply. "Matching outfits?" Dean grunted, looking down at his own suit. "What am I, a groomsman or something?"

He leaned against a nearby rack as he watched Y/N peruse the selection of suits. She was clearly in her element here, and he couldn’t help but smile at the look of concentration on her face, her brows furrowed in that way she did when focused.

“Shut up, I’m thinking” She muttered, before scanning the room before her eyes landed on a white three piece suit. It was similar to Deans, except the outter layer was white and the inner piece was black, with a white bowtie. Deans suit being a black outer layer, inner white layer and a black bow tie. It was the perfect match for her black dress and Deans black suit. Seeing as Sam was practically her prom date. It would make sense to match.

Dean followed her line of sight and saw the suit she had her eyes on. It was simple yet elegant, just like Y/N. He had to admit, the idea of him and Sam being matching in their suits was growing on him.

"Looks like you’ve found what you’re looking for" he teased, pushing himself off the rack and walking over to where she stood.

Y/N squealed again before rushing over to the store attendant. “Hi, I’d like to get that suit” She pointed to the suit. “In the largest size please” The store attendant nodded with a small smile. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll go fetch it for you.”

The attendant disappeared into the back room, leaving Y/N and Dean alone again. Dean glanced over at Y/N, amused at her excitement. "You're awfully chipper about all of this" he commented, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ve dreamed about prom for years and it’s finally happening. Of course I’m excited” Y/N gushed. “And I’m happy you fellas are coming with me” She added, nudging Dean a bit. Her eyes flickered over to the cash register counter, the store sold an array of corsages and boutonnières.

She strolled over, her eyes landing on a white corsage and a black boutonnière along with a white one. Dean chuckled at her answer, unable to resist the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Her excitement was contagious.

"Well, we wouldn’t want to miss out on your special night" he teased, watching as she made her way over to the counter. His eyes followed her to the corsages and boutonnières, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What do you think?” Y/N held up the two boutonnières and corsage. “One for you, one for Sammy and one for me” she smiled. “Since he doesn’t know still and we’re surprising him, I can ask him to prom with this” She waved the black boutonnière.

Dean looked at the two boutonnières and corsage in her hands, admiring the simplicity and elegance of the black and white combination. A warm feeling filled him as he realized the significance Y/N placed on this.

“It’s a good idea” he admitted, nodding. “Sam will probably get a kick out of the whole surprise thing. He’ll think it’s cute.”

-

Y/N hummed happily as they walked back into the house. She was carrying the small bag that contained the boutonnière and corsage while Dean was loaded up with the bags with her dress, shoes along with him and Sam’s outfits.

John and F/N had already left for their hunt, leaving a little note on the counter about their absence. Basically saying Dean was in charge and to make sure to be home by 11 on prom night, since the hunt would most likely go until after prom.

Bobby, John and F/N had a bit of a falling out. And by bit, I mean Bobby pointed a gun at them for disappearing without any notice for months after Y/N came out from juvie, leaving their kids by him worried they were dead. Bobby didn’t have an issue with the kids staying but the fact that their dads didn’t say a word for months, it riled him up just a tad.

So they’re staying at F/N’s Lake Preston’s house, a little over half hour drive from the school.

Dean stood there, looking comical with the number of bags in his hands. The suit bags were slung over his shoulders, each one weighing him down. The shoes, accessories, and other miscellaneous items for Y/N, Sam, and himself were balanced in his arms, making it difficult for him to see past the mountain of clothes.

"Why the hell did I agree to carry all this crap?" he grumbled, adjusting his grip on the bags awkwardly. “Because you can’t say no to me” Y/N grinned, taking the suit bags slung on his shoulder from him after resting down the flowers.

Dean rolled his eyes, secretly enjoying the little grin that spread across her face. He grunted as some of the weight left his arms, and he shot Y/N a mock glare.

"Yeah, something like that" he chuckled. Y/N reached into the small bag, picking up the black boutonnière she got Sam as Dean rested the rest bags on the living room couch, next to the suits. He followed behind her as she led the way to the staircase.

Y/N knocked on the door to the room Dean and Sam shared. “Sammy, you in there?”

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Sam. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and it looked as though he had just woken up from a nap.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here" Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Y/N and Dean with bleary eyes. "What's up?"

Y/N held up the black boutonnière with a wide smile, “Samuel William Winchester, would you do me the honor of going to prom with me?” She said dramatically, placing the back of her hand over her forehead like a southern belle.

Sam's eyes went wide at the fact that she convinced their dads to let them go and Dean stood with his arms crossed next to her, leaning on the door frame as he watched the whole theatric, snickering.

Sam was caught completely off guard by Y/N's proposition. He looked at her, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation, and glanced over at Dean, who was enjoying the whole thing way too much.

"Um, I—“ Sam stuttered, still trying to process the fact that Y/N had managed to get both their dads' permission to go to prom. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

“After you left, dad gave me his card and suggested I surprise you” She explained, handing him the boutonnière. “So is that a yes or so I have to get down on one knee?” She teased her best friend.

Sam chuckled, taking the boutonnière and inspecting it in his hands. It was simple yet elegant, just like her style. He looked down at Y/N and smiled, "You're insane" He snorted.

He shook his head in disbelief. "Of course it's a yes, you crackhead. Did you really think I'd say no to free food and a chance to get all dressed up?" Y/N squealed again, clapping her hands as she jumped up and down, making Dean stick his fingers in his ears while grimacing.

"Jesus Christ" Dean muttered as Y/N squealed, glaring at her with exaggerated annoyance while plugging his ears. "My eardrums are gonna explode if you keep doing that" He grumbled, pulling his fingers out of his ears.

Sam chuckled at his brother's reaction. He couldn't help but find it amusing how both Y/N and Dean had drastically different reactions to her excitement. “I will do it again if you keep complaining, asshat” She threatened.

____________________________________________

It was finally the day of the prom and the house had exploded with chaos. The sound of hairdryers, laughter, and the occasional argument filled the air as the two teenagers and Dean got ready for the night.

Y/N had taken over the bathroom, claiming it for herself while the boys got ready in their room. She had already put on a sleek black dress, which hugged her body at all the right places, making her look like a princess. She was now standing in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to her lipstick.

She smiled content at the way she looked, a slight pit was in her stomach, missing her dad for not being here to see her dressed up for prom.

Y/N took a deep breath as she stood there, taking in her reflection. She looked beautiful, confident, and happy. Despite the absence of her dad, she was filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness for the night ahead.

Just then, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey, any princesses in there?" Dean's voice sounded from the other side, a hint of playful mockery in his tone. “Just one” Y/N joked, opening the door.

Dean stood there, his eyes widened slightly as he saw her standing in front of him. The black dress she wore hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating all of her curves in the most sinful way. He had to admit, she looked breathtaking.

"Damn" he muttered, his eyes raking up and down her body. “Told you I look hot” She smiled widely, moving over to the sink to get his white boutonnière. Her gaze flickered over to his bow tie which was surprisingly fixed properly, “Sam helped you with it, didn’t he?” She snickered, gesturing to the bow tie while pinning the boutonnière to his pocket.

Dean's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink when she mentioned the bowtie. He looked down at the flower pinned to his tux and nodded, "Yeah, he did. Damn nerd insisted it was crooked" he grumbled.

He couldn't help but notice the way Y/N's dress dipped down, revealing a hint of cleavage. He forced his eyes to stay focused on her face, trying to keep his thoughts in check.

“I’m sure it was” She chuckled, still making sure to fix the bow tie. “You don’t look to bad yourself, handsome” She breathed out, taking in Dean’s attire she articulately picked out herself.

Dean smirked at her compliment, his ego swelling a bit at her words. He shifted on his feet, enjoying the way her eyes roamed over his body, taking in his appearance.

"Yeah, you've got taste" he quipped, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards in a cocky grin. "I do look pretty damn good, don't I? That's a rhetorical question by the way, cause the answer is obviously yes"

That earned him a smack to his arm, “Don’t ruin my compliment with sass, boy” Dean chuckled, the smirk still tugging on his lips as she smacked his arm. He raised his hands in surrender, feigning innocence. "Hey, hey I'm just stating facts, princess" he said, his voice oozing with confidence.

He took a step closer to her, his gaze roaming over her body once more. "But I do have to say, you look absolutely stunning" he added, his voice dropping an octave. “Thank you” Her cheeks flushed before clearing her throat. “Is Sammy ready?” She asked, walking past Dean and out of the bathroom.

Dean followed behind her, his eyes lingering on her figure for a moment before he answered her question. "Yeah, he's been ready for ages. I told him not to be late" he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice as they made their way to the living room.

As if on cue, Sam emerged from the stairs, dressed in his white suit and black boutonniere pinned on his lapel. He looked nervous, his eyes darting between Y/N and Dean. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re gonna throw up” Y/N asked him concerned.

Sam chuckled nervously, running his fingers through his hair. "It's nothing, I just... I haven't been to a school dance before, that's all" he admitted, looking down at his shoes.

Dean rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've hunted wendigos and ghosts but you're nervous about a bunch of teenagers in a gym? Get a grip, Sammy" he teased, unable to resist getting a dig in.

Y/N chuckled before taking her best friends hand into hers, “It’s gonna be fine man. If I’m being honest, so am I. But we’ve been through worse” She reassured him. “Besides, you look great! I’m sure that Cindy Wu gal you’ve been crushing on is gonna wanna dance with you” She teased while complimenting him.

Sam's cheeks turned pink at the mention of Cindy Wu. He had harbored a secret crush on her for ages, but he hadn't had the courage to talk to her. The thought of dancing with her, especially in this setting, made his heart race.

"Shut up" he muttered, shoving Y/N playfully in the shoulder. "And stop talking like you're in one of those teen movies" he added with a smirk.

“First of all, you fellas love those movies” She said snippy, “And second of all, if I were in a teen movie. I’d be the damn heart throb, now it’s picture time. Chop chop.” Sam laughed as Y/N spoke, clearly amused by her confident and sassy attitude.

Dean shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright" he said, holding up his palms in mock surrender. "We'll take the damn prom pictures."

He went over to the bookshelf in the living room and grabbed a small camera. He turned back to Y/N and Sam, gesturing for them to pose.

Sam and Y/N posed, Y/N wrapping her arm around Sam’s waist and Sam’s arm residing on her shoulder. "Smile for the camera" Dean said in a mock cheesy voice, pointing the camera at the two young adults.

Sam looked a bit awkward while Y/N flashed her brightest smile, sticking her tongue out slightly. Dean chuckled at their expressions, his finger hovering over the shutter release. "Ready?"

“Just take the damn picture!” Sam and Y/N exclaimed in unison. Dean chuckled to himself, finding their synchronized response hilarious. "Alright, alright" he said, still holding the camera. "On three, act cool"

He counted down in reverse, "3...2...1..."

He snapped the picture, capturing their goofy expressions perfectly. “Okay, now Sammy, hop on y/n/n back” Dean smirked.

Sam shot Dean a confused look, raising an eyebrow at his sibling's request. "What? Why do I have to hop on Y/N's back?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Y/N, on the other hand, looked excited at the prospect. "Oh, come on, Sam! It'll be fun!" she encouraged, already turning her back towards him, signaling for him to hop on.

Sam just shrugged shrugged and went along with it. He stood behind Y/N as she bent down slightly so he could hop onto her back.

"You better not drop me" he warned her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders for stability. “Listen dipshit, it’s not my fault your Sasquatch ass is heavy now just hop on”

Sam rolled his eyes at her remark, knowing she was just trying to annoy him. He let out a exaggerated sigh as if he was going through an ordeal. "Fine" he said, feigning annoyance as he hopped onto her back.

Y/N let out a slight grunt as she straightened up, adjusting herself to balance his weight. "You're like a baby gorilla" she joked, holding onto his legs to keep him from slipping. Dean was in hysterics at this, holding up the camera.

He couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably at the sight of Y/N piggybacking Sam. The sheer size difference between them made it look so absurd, yet hilarious. He held up the camera, trying his best to keep it steady while laughing.

"Alright, say cheese" he managed to get out between laughs, composing himself slightly to take the picture.

Sam grumbled, his cheeks flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and slight annoyance. "I hope you're happy" he muttered, trying to keep his balance on Y/N's back.

Y/N simply ignored his complaints, flashing a cheesy smile at the camera. "Come on, this is fun!" she teased, bouncing slightly to rile him up even more.

Dean burst out laughing again, trying to capture the perfect shot. "This is priceless" he managed to say, shaking his head in amusement.

Y/N let a grumpy Sam down as Dean walked over and handed Sam the camera. Sam took the camera reluctantly, still looking a bit moody about the whole piggyback situation. He held it up and looked through the viewfinder.

"Okay, it's your turn now" he said, looking over at Dean. Dean raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "What, are you gonna give me a piggyback too?" he teased. “Fuck no, I’d like to keep my back in one piece” Y/N huffed, resting her hand on Deans chest to pose for the picture.

Dean chuckled, enjoying her touch on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned down slightly to be level with her.

"You look beautiful by the way" he murmured, his breath close to her ear. Y/N’s breath hitched again as Sam looked at the two with raised eyebrows and a sly smile on his face.

Silently praying that by the end of tonight, these two would finally just end it all and get together. “Take the picture, Sam” Y/N cleared her throat, swallowing hard.

Sam smirked, the sly smile on his face deepening. He could see the chemistry between the two, the fact that they were yet to act on it was starting to get annoying. "Okay, okay" he said, rolling his eyes slightly. He raised the camera up, looking through the viewfinder.

Dean pulled Y/N even closer, their bodies practically flush against each other. His eyes locked onto hers, a hint of longing and desire flashing through them.

Sam took the picture, capturing the tension palpable between the two. He lowered the camera, a knowing smile on his face. “Alright” Y/N chimed, pulling away from Dean. “Let’s go fellas, chop chop” She clapped her hands excitedly.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls High, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The air was alive with excitement. The school's gymnasium was transformed into a sea of glitzy decorations. Music thumped through the air as couples danced together, their laughter and chatter echoing throughout the room. The gym was all decked out for the occasion. There were silver and black balloons, a disco ball spinning above the dance floor, and a big banner that read "Class of 2001"

Dean, Sam, and Y/N entered the gymnasium, their eyes widening at the sight before them. Sam’s right arm was linked into Y/N’s left and Dean’s left arm was linked into Y/N’s right.

“Holy fuck” Y/N gasped. Sam's eyes were also wide, taking in the sights and sounds of the prom. "Whoa, the place looks great" he commented, his gaze flickering around the room.

Dean chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Just wait till the party really gets going" Dean snorted, his eyes immediately went to the snack table. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's comment, knowing that his mind was on food. "Can't even go five minutes without thinking about food" he muttered under his breath.

Y/N, on the other hand, was looking around for any familiar faces, her eyes scanning the room. “Let’s go get a drink while Dean goes and stuffs his face” Y/N suggested to Sam.

Sam chuckled in agreement. "Let's get out of here before he starts drooling" he joked.

With that, the two of them headed towards the refreshments table, leaving Dean alone to make a beeline for the snack table. Eyeing the food like a hawk before diving in.

Over at the punch table, Sam poured Y/N a drink, handing it to her before pouring his own. Y/N thanked Sam graciously, taking a sip of her drink along with Sam. Their eyes widened, coughing when the taste of vodka seeped into their taste buds and hit the back of their throats.

"Whoa, they went all out spiking these huh?" Y/N commented, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Sam nodded, his expression a mix of surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah, no kidding. This stuff is strong" he said, taking another smaller sip this time.

“Uh uh uh, it’s prom night” Y/N tilted Sam’s glass more so he would drink it all. “We’re enjoying ourselves, Dean’s the designated driver so we’re partying like there’s no tomorrow”

Sam looked slightly hesitant at first, not wanting to get too drunk too quickly. However, the thought of letting loose and having a good time swayed him.

"Alright, alright" he said, downing the rest of his drink. "But if I end up puking on someone, you're cleaning it up" he warned Y/N with a grin.

“You know damn well I’m puking on you too if you puke infront of me” She grimaced, shaking her head in disgust. “Plus, when I am gonna see you again to coax you into getting drunk with me....” She said a bit sadly. Sam had gotten his acceptance letter to Stanford but he had yet to tell John, F/N or Dean.

The secret has been tumultuous to keep from their family but they knew how they would react to Sam leaving.

Sam's smile faded a bit, a pang of guilt hitting him. He knew he needed to tell his family about his acceptance to Stanford, but he had been putting it off, afraid of the explosive reaction that would surely follow.

"Yeah, I know" he responded softly, his gaze meeting Y/N's. "I just... I'm not ready to tell them yet. Especially Dean, you know how defensive he gets"

“I know, Sammy” She smiled sadly. “But I’m proud of you” She added genuinely. Sam smiled weakly, his heart warming to hear that from his best friend. He always valued and respected her opinion, so when she pushed him to go to college after being skeptical about taking the leap, he dove head first in.

But that didn’t stop the guilt from lingering at the fact that he was gonna leave her and Dean to deal with their fathers wraths. She expressed that she had no desire to go to college but he knew that was bullshit, and now with her record. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t.

“Thanks, Y/N" he said, his voice soft.

-

Sam and Y/N stayed stationed at the punch bowl, four to five drinks in. The teens were getting pretty tipsy at this point.

Suddenly, the music changed to, ‘Quit Playing Games With My Heart’ by Backstreet Boys, prompting an excited scream from Y/N. "Oh my God, I love this song!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her heels. "Come on, let's dance!"

She grabbed Sam's hand, pulling him towards the dance floor without giving him a chance to protest. Sam let himself be dragged by Y/N, feeling the effects of the alcohol in his system. His head was slightly fuzzy, and he found himself not minding a bit of dancing.

“Even in my heartttt…I seeee….You’re not being true to meee” Y/N sung as she swayed to the song with Sam. As they reached the dance floor, Sam felt the infectious energy of the song and found himself swaying to the beat with her. Hearing Y/N sing along made him chuckle. "You have the singing skills of a dying cat," he teased.

Y/N flipped him off as she danced along with her best friend. Sam laughed, the middle finger in his direction not bothering him in the slightest. He was enjoying himself, dancing and laughing with Y/N. The alcohol had done its thing, he felt lighter, more carefree than usual.

As the song played on, Sam found his moves getting more exaggerated and carefree. He spun Y/N around suddenly, and they erupted into a fit of giggles.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here” A voice boomed behind Y/N, she spun around her eyes wide to see her ex boyfriend, Xander. They had broken up not too long after she came out of juvie. She knew once she graduated, she wouldn’t have been able to keep the relationship going.

Xander expressed his desire to become a police officer after witnessing the complete injustice Y/N faced with her charges. It warmed her heart incredibly but with the line of work her family was in, she didn’t want to put him in danger.

So she ended things, lying to Xander about getting into Stanford with Sam. Since Xander was gonna stay in Sioux Falls, a blind man could see that long distance wasn’t gonna work for either of them. He was heartbroken and so was she, but it was for the best and the two parted on good terms.

Y/N was caught off guard by Xander's sudden appearance. Her heartrate picked up as she turned to face him, memories of their short-lived relationship flooding back to her.

She remembered the good times they shared, his support in the aftermath of her time in juvie, but also how she had to lie to him about her future plans, saying she wrote a riveting essay to the college and got accepted despite her record. It had been for the best, but it still hurt.

She put on a smile, masking the turmoil she felt in the moment. "Hey, Xander" she greeted him with a small smile. Sam, sensing the tension between Y/N and Xander, stood quietly next to her. He knew Y/N had ended things with Xander, his mind going back to the night she bawled her eyes out in his arms after pulling the plug on the relationship.

He could sense the unease in Y/N's voice and knew this was a delicate moment. Xander's expression was a mix of surprise and nostalgia as he looked at Y/N. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing seeing her again. "You look good," he commented, a slight waver in his voice.

“Thank you, you look great” She greeted back with flushed cheeks. “Hey Alex” Sam greeted Alexander with the typical bro-fist-bump they always did when him and y/n were together. Xander returned the greetings with a slight nod at Sam and a smile at Y/N. "Hey man" he said to Sam.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the three of them stood together, the tension between Y/N and Xander still hanging in the air. Sam, being the perceptive one, could feel the tension. He tried to break the ice. "So, enjoying the prom?" he asked, looking between the two.

"Yeah, it's great" Xander replied, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her dress, feeling the intensity of Xander's gaze. A million thoughts were running through her mind. She didn't expect to see him here, especially after their breakup and her lies.

"We're just about to get another drink" Sam chimed in, sensing Y/N's discomfort. Y/N’s eyes flickered to a little distance behind him, a familiar face made an idea pop into her head, though she was already planning this long before. “Oh my god, is that Cindy Wu? Sammy, it’s Cindy” She nudged Sam behind her.

He recognized Cindy Wu, a girl he had had a low-key crush on for ages. His ears perked up as Y/N mentioned her name, and he looked around to see Cindy standing with a group of her friends a few feet away. “Xander, could you give us a second. I just wanna introduce Sam and Cindy” Y/N said politely to her ex boyfriend.

Xander looked slightly taken aback by the request, but he nodded. "Sure" he relented.

Sam shot Y/N a questioning glance, clearly puzzled by her actions. But before he could say anything, Y/N had grasped his wrist and was pulling him towards where Cindy stood.

“Cindy, hi!” Y/N greeted Cindy with a sweet smile. Cindy turned her head towards Y/N, her face lighting up in recognition. "Y/N! Hi!" she replied happily, returning the smile. Her eyes then went to Sam, who was trying to keep his cool demeanor, but failing miserably.

“Girl, you look gorgeous” She gushed at Cindy’s beautiful baby blue corset dress. Cindy blushed at the compliment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you! You look amazing yourself" she said, her eyes flickering over to Sam for a brief moment.

Sam was now blushing heavily, fiddling with the collar of his shirt nervously. “Thanks sweetie” She smiled widely, “I’m sure you know my friend, Sam” Y/N nudged Sam towards Cindy. Sam stumbled forward slightly, his eyes widening as Y/N pushed him towards Cindy. He took a deep breath, plastering on a shy smile.

"H-Hi, Cindy" he stuttered, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He mentally cursed himself for being so nerv. Cindy giggled slightly at Sam’s nervous behavior, the sight endearing to her. "Hey, Sam" she greeted in response, her voice soft.

Y/N stood back, watching the interaction between the two. This was exactly what she had planned. She knew Sam had a crush on Cindy, and she hoped that maybe this would be the night he finally made a move.

Sam’s heart was hammering inside his chest, nervousness and alcohol coursing through his veins. He tried to compose himself, to seem more confident than he was.

“You look very handsome Sam” Cindy gushed, blushing profusely. Sam's cheeks were now aflame, his whole face turning red. He wasn’t used to receiving compliments from girls, let alone from a girl he had a crush on.

He tried to think of something charming to say, something to keep the conversation going. But his mind was blanking, consumed by her beauty and her praise.

"T-thank you" he managed to stutter out, his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets. "Yeah, you look beautiful" Sam managed to stutter out, his cheeks redder than ever. “L-like a peacock” Sam slurred, gesturing to her blue dress and her perfectly styled hair.

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes and facepalmed internally. Oh God, these two are as hopeless as each other, she thought to herself.

Cindy let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing further at Sam's comment. She was charmed by his awkward attempts at flirting, finding it endearing.

"Thank you, Sam" she said with a nervous stutter, clearly unsure of what to say next. She fidgeted with her dress, glancing from Sam to Y/N and then back to Sam.

Y/N could feel the palpable awkwardness between the two. She knew they both liked each other, but neither one was making the first move. She wanted to shove them into each other and just make them kiss.

“Okay….well I’m gonna go…enjoy” Y/N snickered before excusing herself back to Xander. Sam watched as Y/N left, his heart rate increasing even further. Now he was left alone with Cindy, the girl of his dreams, and he had no idea what to do or say.

Cindy glanced at Y/N, watching her leave with a smile. Then she turned back to Sam, her eyes studying him for a moment. She was nervous too, but she didn’t want to show it.

“So, you having fun?” she asked casually, trying to start up a conversation.

-

“Oh my god, they’re like puppies” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she poured herself a drink. Xander laughed, sipping his punch, his eyes trained on the way she wobbled due to the alcohol in her system.

Dean stood by the snack table, idly munching on some chips as he watched the festivities unfolding around him. His eyes zeroed in across the gym in Y/N’s direction.

His gaze landed on Y/N and Xander, the two standing close together, an air of familiarity between them. He watched as Y/N poured herself a drink, her movements a tad sloppy, indicating she was tipsy.

His eyes darkened slightly as he took in the scene, a pang of jealousy stirring within him. He hadn't expected to see Y/N so buddy-buddy with her ex-boyfriend, and the sight didn't bode well with him.

Back at the punch table, “So, how are you?” Y/N asked Xander casually, sipping her vodka laced punch. Xander took a moment to respond, his eyes tracing over Y/N's face. He saw the slight flush on her cheeks thatindicated she was a bit drunk.

"I'm okay" he finally answered, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. "Better than okay, actually. But what about you? And honestly" he added, his gaze fixed on her.

“I’m getting by” She sighed with a nod. “It’s good to see you though” Xander’s expression softened at her words. “It’s good to see you too” he agreed, his tone sincere.

He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, noticing Sam and Cindy a few feet away dancing. He turned his attention back to Y/N, an amused smile on his lips. “Looks like your boy is finally making a move,” he teased, jerking his head in Sam’s direction, where Sam was awkwardly dancing with Cindy, their bodies a safe distance apart.

“Oh my god” Y/N laughed hysterically at the way they awkwardly moved, “He’s growing up” She joked, holding up her punch. Xander chuckled along with her, his eyes drifting back to Sam and Cindy. “It’s a sight isn’t it?” he commented, watching the two of them dance.

He took in Y/N's relaxed demeanor, the tension that usually coiled around her when they were in public had faded, replaced with a comfortable ease. He was happy to see her so at ease.

“Yeah…” Y/N smiled, turning back to Xander. “So…” She cleared her throat. “Have you heard back from the academy?” Xander's expression changed at the question, a hint of pride in his eyes. He had been working hard to get into the police academy.

"Yeah, I did actually" he responded, a small smile on his lips. "I got accepted last week"

“What?! Xander that’s amazing!” She hugged him, “I’m so happy to hear that, you’re gonna be the best cop in Sioux Falls” Xander hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. He had worked so hard to get into the academy, and it felt good to have someone genuinely proud of him. "Thanks, I'm really excited" he said, his voice filled with excitement.

The clearing of a throat behind Y/N startled them both, their gazes darted to the direction of the sound to see Dean. Dean stood a few feet away from the pair, his arms crossed over his chest, and a slightly brooding look etched on his face.

He took in the sight of Y/N and Xander together, his eyes flickering between the two of them. “How was the snack table?” Y/N chimed. Dean's gaze landed on Y/N, taking in her slightly tipsy state. He could tell that she had definitely had her fair share of punch.

He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool despite the jealousy that was building up within him. "It was fine" he grumbled, his eyes flickering briefly over to Xander before returning to Y/N.

Xander's ears pricked up at the unexpected appearance of Dean, sensing the tension in the air. His eyes darted between Y/N and Dean, silently taking in the dynamic between the two.

He narrowed his eyes a bit, tilting his head as the wheels turned in his head.

Wait a damn minute…. Xander thought to himself.

He was used to the cold demeanor of the older Winchester, but the look Dean was giving him now was particularly hostile. “Dean, how have you been?” Xander asked in a friendly tone, stretching his hand out to shake Dean’s.

Dean eyed Xander's outstretched hand for a moment, his expression cold and unwelcoming. But he relented, shaking Xander's hand firmly but not warmly. "Good" he grumbled in response, his reply short and curt.

How did I not see it before? Damn… Xander internally chided himself.

He chided himself for being so blind and in love with Y/N that he didn’t realize the reason Dean was so cold with him was because…well…he felt the same way he did about the same girl.

Y/N looked down at her punch and back up to Xander, her mind fuzzy. “Well, it was great to see you, Xander. Really. Congratulations, again…I’ll see you around” She chimed before reaching up to kiss his cheek. Taking Dean’s hand into hers and leading him away.

Xander smiled warmly, appreciative of Y/N's congratulations and her goodbye. He tried his best to ignore Dean's icy demeanor, knowing how protective the older Winchester brother was of Y/N.

As Y/N took Dean's hand and led him away, Xander couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had cared about Y/N deeply during their time together, and seeing her with Dean now was a constant reminder of what he had lost. But he didn't show it, just smiled and watched them walk away.

Now on the dancefloor, “What was that about?!” Y/N gritted her teeth at Dean as they made their way to the dance floor. Dean was slightly taken aback by Y/N's sudden shift in mood. He was used to her fiery nature, but her anger still caught him off guard.

"What was what about?" he asked, feigning innocence, even though he knew exactly what she was referring to. “You practically cockblocked me man” She groaned.

Dean's eyes widened, taken aback by her choice of words. Cockblocked? That was a new one. "I did no such thing" he protested, his tone defensive. "I just came over to say hello" He added weakly.

“You barely said a word” She snorted, shaking her head in amusement. “It was kinda awkward though.” She chuckled, swaying to the music. Dean couldn't deny that the interaction had been a tad awkward. Seeing Y/N cozy with her ex-boyfriend had spiked a pang of jealousy within him, and he hadn't exactly been subtle about it.

“Dance with me” Y/N suggested, as ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ by *NSYNC started playing in the prom. Dean shot her a look, a mix of surprise and reluctance on his face. He was not a big fan of dancing, especially in public.

But the pleading look in Y/N's eyes was enough to break down any protest he had. He let out a long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to her request. "Alright, alright" he agreed reluctantly, taking her hand and stepping closer to her on the dance floor.

“Every little thing I dooo, never seems enough for youuuu. You don’t wanna losee it like againn. But I’m not like themm” Y/N swayed drunkenly, wrapping her arms around Deans shoulders, singing along to the song.

Dean allowed himself to be pulled along, his movements a bit stiff and awkward next to her fluid swaying. He chuckled at her drunken singing, finding her carefree attitude amusing despite his initial resistance.

“Baby when you fi-na-llyy, get to love some-bo-dyyy. Guess whatt? It’s gonna be me” Dean sang along with her.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sound of Dean singing. She didn't expect him to join in, but the surprise quickly gave way to a wide grin.

She tightened her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as they danced. She was tipsy and carefree, the alcohol making her less inhibited than usual.

"Aww, look at you, singing along like a pro, Winchester" she teased, laughter in her voice. “I thought you didn’t sing those, and I quote, ‘teeny poppy girly songs’” She snorted, quoting his words to her when she would listen to songs like this.

Dean gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushing slightly. He had indeed made such a comment in the past, but seeing Y/N enjoying the song, he couldn’t help but join in.

"Hey, I make exceptions" he retorted, trying to maintain some level of coolness. "And I might have listened to a few of those ‘teeny poppy girly songs’ on my own time" he admitted reluctantly. “No shit” She snickered dancing with him.

Dean tried to hide his embarrassment, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. "Alright, alright, you’ve had your chuckle" he grumbled, trying to act grumpy but the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As the song continued, he found himself getting more into the rhythm, dancing with less restraint. The closeness between them, coupled with Y/N's carefree attitude, made it difficult to stay stoic.

Y/N's body was pressed up against Dean's, swaying to the music. She could feel the heat radiating off him, his hands on her waist sending a jolt through her.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes clouded with drunken affection. She was feeling brave, maybe even a little reckless, spurred on by the alcohol.

She leaned in closer to him, whispering so only he could hear, "You know, Winchester, you're not such a bad dancer after all" Dean felt a rush of heat at her words. Her closeness was intoxicating, and the huskiness in her voice made his heart race.

He tried to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but her compliment sent a thrill through him. "Gee, thanks" he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes for effect, but his tone lacked his customary edge. He held her closer, his hands tightening on her hips as they continued to move to the music.

"You’re not half bad yourself, considering you’re drunk off your ass" he added, a small smirk playing on his lips. Y/N chuckled at his response, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. "You love it when I'm drunk, admit it" she teased, her breath warm against his neck.

She pressed herself closer to him, her body molding against his as they danced. The alcohol in her system was making her clingy, her inhibitions lowered.

Dean was taken back by this, reminding himself that she’s just drunk and that’s why she’s acting like this. He cleared his throat before pulling away slightly to look at his watch, “It’s almost 12, we’ve gotta go” He said urgently.

Y/N's face fell at his words, a pout forming on her lips. "What? Why?" she whined, her hands still gripping onto Dean tightly.

The alcohol was making her stubborn and unwilling to part with him, the magic of the moment shattered by the harsh reality of time.

"Can’t we stay for a little longer?" she pleaded, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “This isn’t Cinderella” She groaned. “I’m sorry sweetheart. We promised our dads we’d be back home before 11. Let’s get Sammy and beat it” Dean denied.

Y/N's pout intensified at his refusal, but she knew he was right. They had made a promise to their dads, and breaking it would spell trouble.

"Okay, okay" she grumbled, her disappointment evident. She reluctantly untangled herself from him, her body immediately missing the warmth of his touch.

"But I'm calling shot gun on the way home" she declared firmly, her stubborn streak not completely squashed.

“Can we stop and get burgers? I’m craving a milkshake” She asked hopefully as Dean pulled her through the dancefloor to interrupt Sam in the middle of his make out session with Cindy Wu.

Dean nodded in agreement, his own stomach rumbling at the thought of greasy burgers and a thick milkshake. "Yeah, we can stop by that diner we like" he assured her, gently pulling her past the couples dancing around them.

When they reached Sam and Cindy, both of them were too engrossed in their own world to notice their presence. Dean cleared his throat loudly, finally getting their attention.

Sam jumped, clearly startled out of their moment. He quickly ran a hand through his messy hair in an attempt to smooth it out, a sheepish look on his face. His gaze darted from Y/N to Dean, anticipating their remarks.

Y/N giggled at the way Sam’s hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen. Dean smirked, unable to resist teasing his younger brother. "Looks like someone was having quite the dance party over here" he said, his tone filled with barely suppressed amusement.

Y/N added to the teasing, a wicked grin on her face. "I didn't know prom was a make out contest" she teased, poking fun at Sam's disheveled appearance. The drunken side of her mind was jealous because that should’ve been her and Dean.

But the logical side screamed at her for being an idiot and embarrassing herself, ‘He’s not into you, L/N. Stop being so desperate’ Her mind yelled at her.

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool despite being caught red handed. "Okay, okay, you’ve had your laughs" he muttered, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

Cindy, feeling left out of the conversation, spoke up, "Are you guys leaving already?"

“Yeah, Cinderella here is scared his car turns into a pumpkin at 12” Y/N scoffed, smacking Dean in his arm. Dean huffed indignantly at Y/N's jibe. "Hey, watch it" he warned, rubbing his arm where she had hit him. He shot her a scowl, but there was no heat behind it.

"We promised our dads we'd be back before 11" he reminded Y/N, his tone turning serious again. "We gotta keep our word." Y/N rolled her eyes, “But they’re not here!” She protested.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Doesn’t matter if they’re here or not" he retorted. "We made a promise, and we’re keeping it." He was growing increasingly annoyed by her stubbornness, even as endearing as he found it.

“Fine, let’s go. I’m sorry, Cindy” Sam turned to Cindy with a sad smile. Cindy smiled at Sam, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. "It's okay, Sam. I understand" she replied, although she clearly would've preferred otherwise.

Dean led Y/N and Sam towards the exit of the gym, his body tense with irritation from the situation. Dean buckled Sam and Y/N into the backseat, both teenagers giggly from the effects of the spiked punch.

Dean shook his head at the pair as he got into the driver's seat. They were a mess, their giggles and hiccups only adding to his growing headache. He knew it was going to be a long ride back.

"You two are impossible" he muttered to himself, adjusting the rearview mirror to glance at Y/N and Sam in the backseat. “Shut up and put on some music!” Y/N hollered enthusiastically as Sam cheered.

Dean rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Their carefree attitude was infectious, even in his grumpy state. They were like rowdy teenagers who hadn't grown up.

He turned on the radio, the sound of Bon Jovi's ‘Livin' on a Prayer’ filled the car. “Oh my god I love this song!” Y/N screamed as she and Sam sang along.

Dean groaned inwardly, but he couldn't stay annoyed for long. The two in the backseat were infectious, and their energy was slowly thawing his grumpiness.

"You both are so damn loud" he complained half-heartedly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed smile. “We’ll give it a shot!! Woaahhhh, we’re half way thereeee. WOAHHHHH LIVING IN A PRAYER!!” Sam and Y/N screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs spitefully.

Dean chuckled against his will, the sound of their out-of-tune singing was oddly endearing. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, he found himself singing along under his breath, the words becoming a little more audible over time.

He shot a glance at Y/N in the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face at their antics. They were loud, obnoxious, and totally incapable of keeping to themselves, but he was strangely fond of them all the same.

Halfway through the song, a stir in Y/N’s stomach began erupting, holding her mouth. “God I think I’m gonna be sick” She groaned. Deans eyes snapped to her in the backseat. “If you barf on my upholstery I will toss your ass out” Dean warned her.

Y/N's face grew pale, a wave of nausea crashing into her. The earlier carefree joy now replaced by a queasy unease. Feeling the contents of her stomach churn, she clutched at her belly, her eyes growing wide.

"Oh crap, I think I need to throw up" she whimpered, her voice weak and raspy. The thought of throwing up in Dean's precious car was enough to add to her growing anxiety.

“Pull over dude!” Sam yelled at his older brother. Dean acted quickly, pulling the car off the road swiftly. As soon as the car was at a complete stop, Y/N threw open the car door and stumbled out, her body hunching over as she vomited beside the road, into the drainage.

Sam grimaced at the sound of her retching, his own nausea kicking in. Dean, on the other hand, got out and began patting her back. Holding her hair up for her as she let the remnants of the vodka out of her stomach.

Sam grimaced before stumbling out behind them, barfing up his own stomach contents next to Y/N. The sight of Sam's projectile vomiting was the icing on the cake for Dean, he couldn't contain his reaction as he doubled over in laughter.

"Oh, you two are unbelievable" he managed to say in-between chuckles. He leaned against the car, shaking his head at the absolute state the two were in. “Can it and hold my hair!” Y/N whined.

Dean bit back his laughter and nodded, moving to stand behind Y/N again. He gingerly gathered her hair in one hand, holding it away from her face as she continued to heave.

Stood between both Sam and Y/N, he rubbed his little brothers back soothingly as he let out more wretched vomits. "I'll hold your hair, but I'm not shutting up" he said, his tone teasing. "This is what you get for gulping down spiked punch like it's water."

-

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N's stomach seemed to have expelled all the alcohol. She leaned against the car, her face pale and clammy, looking thoroughly wrecked.

Sam wasn’t fairing much better. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the tire, his head lolling to the side.

Dean was still standing near Y/N, his hand still holding her hair, his other rubbing her back soothingly.

Y/N got up after emptying her stomach, wiping her mouth as she sat next to Sam on the gravelly road, her dress dampening. Dean reached into his glove compartment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes he had in case y/n ever ran out and a spare lighter.

He took one out, sticking it between his lips, lighting it. Inhaling a plume of smoke before handing Y/N the stick which she accepted graciously.

As Y/N took the cigarette from Dean, her fingers brushed against his. The contact sent a jolt through her, reminding her of the night's earlier flirty behaviour. But her current state of nausea quickly squashed any such thoughts.

She took a long, deep drag on the cigarette, hoping the nicotine would settle her churning stomach and quell the pounding in her head. “You’re a lifesaver” She muttered gratefully, leaning her head back onto Sam's shoulder.

Dean smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners amused. “Don’t get used to it” he joked as he made his way around the car to the trunk, opening it and pulling out a bag he had with toiletries. Finding out the mouthwash after unzipping the little clear baggie.

“I am never drinking again” Y/N groaned, her head dropping on Sam’s shoulder. Dean chuckled at her claim, knowing full well that the both of them would be drinking again come next weekend. "Yeah, that's what you said last time" he teased, walking over to them with the bottle of mouthwash in his hand.

Sam, who was slowly coming to his senses, echoed Y/N's sentiment, his eyes closed in discomfort. "Agreed, I'm never touching alcohol again" Sam groaned, his voice hoarse.

Y/N snatched the bottle of mouthwash from Dean, gathering some into her mouth before handing it to Sam who accepted the bottle, taking a large swig of the liquid and swishing it around his mouth before spitting it out onto the road along with Y/N simultaneously.

The burning sensation of the alcohol made their eyes water.

Dean watched this with amusement, shaking his head. "You both really are a sight for sore eyes," he joked, leaning against the car. "A couple of prom royals, reduced to puking in the drain next to my car."

He couldn't help but find the humor in their situation, even if they were both miserable messes at that moment. Y/N rolled her eyes, outstretching her hand for Dean to help her up.

Dean chuckled at her eye-roll, but he complied none the less. He reached out and grasped her hand, gently pulling her to her feet, taking one last drag from her cigarette before she flicked the burnt out bud to the side, in the drainage.

He then moved to help Sam up, who was still looking a little green around the gills. With both of them on their feet, Dean couldn't help but grimace at how disheveled they both looked.

“We still getting those burgers?” She asked hopefully as they helped Sam up. Dean shook his head at her one-tracked stomach. Despite their current mess, she still had food on the brain. "Yeah, we're still getting the burgers" he confirmed, guiding both Sam and Y/N back to the Impala.

"But you're both washing up in that gas station over there first" he added, pointing towards a small gas station a few feet away. Sam and Y/N looked down at their mess of outfits, then at each other before shrugging.

He had a point. They looked like crap.

____________________________________________

The diner was fairly empty given the late hour, which suited them just fine. Dean led Y/N and Sam to a booth at the back, sitting opposite them as they settled in.

The waitress approached their table, a tired smile on her face as she handed out menus. She took their orders, making a few notes before heading towards the kitchen.

Sam and Y/N looked absolutely terrible. Y/N’s hair was sticking up in all directions, the once perfect curls now tousled and knotted. Her lipstick was smudged, eyeliner and mascara stained her cheeks, and her prom dress was stained from the previous events. She looked like a zombie prom queen without the crown.

Sam was in a similar state, his usually neat hair sticking up in messy peaks, and his shirt rumpled from his stint with the ground. His tie was hung around his neck, the bow limp and loose. Remnants of Cindy Wu’s lipstick smeered on his neck and his shirt collar.

-

They both practically inhaled their food, their appetites returning with a vengeance. It seemed puking up the spiked punch had reignited their hunger.

Dean watched them with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Even though they looked a mess, they still managed to wolf down their burgers with gusto.

“Jesus Christ, I could make love to this burger” Y/N moaned, dipping some fries into ketchup before biting into it, her eyes fluttering close with pleasure.

Dean almost sputtered on his drink, his eyes widening at her comment. He wasn’t expecting her to say that, and the image her words conjured up sent his mind reeling.

“Jesus, L/N” he muttered, trying to play it off as he busied himself with his own food. Though he couldn’t deny the way his stomach churned at her words, a certain heat pooling in his stomach.

“Damn straight, and this milkshake” Sam agreed, sipping his milkshake. His expression mimicked Y/N’s reaction to her food.

Dean snorted at their enthusiasm, shaking his head at the duo. They were acting as if they hadn’t eaten in days instead of a few hours ago.

“Slow down, you’re going to give yourselves stomach aches” he warned, though there was no conviction in his tone. He couldn’t help but find their gluttony endearing.

“Shut up” Sam and Y/N snapped in unison before going back to their food.

Dean raised his hands in surrender, deciding not to make any further objections. It was clear that when it came to food, there was no stopping them.

He continued to eat his own meal, watching as they ate with relish. Their disheveled state and messy faces made the scene even more amusing.

“So, how was Cindy’s tongue down your throat?” Y/N teased her best friend, nudging his side with her elbow. Sam choked on his milkshake, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his time with Cindy. He swallowed, clearing his throat before shooting an embarrassed glance at Y/N. He had nearly forgotten about that in his food-induced bliss.

“Uh, it was... nice” he mumbled, trying to play it cool. Though the evidence from Cindy's lipstick on his collar said otherwise. Dean and Y/N bursted out laughing.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh, the sight of Sam, trying to act nonchalant, while his collar was smeared with lipstick was just too comical.

Y/N joined in with a fit of giggles, her own food momentarily forgotten. She leaned back in the booth, wiping a tear from her eye as she snorted with laughter.

“Despite the vomiting and the hangover I am dreading in the morning. I had fun tonight fellas” Dean smiled at her words, glad that she could find the silver lining despite the night’s events. “Yeah, me too,” he replied, taking a swig of his soda. “Even though I had to deal with two puking teenagers in my car” he added, shooting a teasing glance at Y/N and Sam.

“And don’t even get me started on the gas station bathroom” he continued, exaggerating his complaints in jest. “I swear it’s like the two of you tried to throw up everywhere but in the goddamn toilet”

This earned Dean a fry tossed at his head by Y/N.

Dean dodged the flying fry, narrowly avoiding it striking him in the forehead. He laughed even louder at the failed attempt, throwing his head back at Y/N's antics.

“Now you’ve done it” he warned in a mock-threatening tone. He reached for a fry from his plate, aiming it at Y/N and flicking it towards her. Y/N quickly swatted it away with her hand, only for it to hit Sam in his head.

Sam grunted in surprise, a piece of the fry landing in his hair. He looked up at Y/N with faux outrage, his eyes narrowing jokingly.

“Seriously?” He asked, plucking the fry from his head. He then lobbed it back at her, a laugh escaping his lips. Y/N laughed loudly as Sam just shrugged and ate the fry.

Dean watched the exchange with amusement, his own food long forgotten. Sam and Y/N were like siblings, constantly teasing and taunting one another without malice. It was refreshing to see them being carefree teenagers for a change.

He couldn’t help but smile at their infectious laughter, the sound bouncing off the diner walls.

👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓👩🏻‍🎓🧑🏻‍🎓

Authors Note: Hi again, I hope everyone liked this one. I’ve had this tucked away for too long, I’m just so happy to let it be seen now.

Tell you what you think! Comments, reblogs and opinions are greatly appreciated❤️

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia

Thanks again,

Xoxo

[wellofdean]

Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi there!

I have been looking in vain for fics with Non-verbal Dean or Castiel. I've read a couple but haven't been able to find anymore and the tagging system only seems to give me junk results not actually related to that.

Thank in advance for your help!

Hey! Here are a few fics we could think of:

All Cats Are Gray After Dark by squirrelofcelestialintent (Explicit, 19k words)

1992, NYC. Dean is a Gulf War veteran working in the grimiest ER in the city, and he’s holding his life together. Kind of? Maybe. But he’s got secrets. No one at work knows that he’s not physically mute due to a war injury, but rather selectively mute from way back in the day, because that is almost impossible to explain. Nobody but Sam knows he’s a rare, male Omega, and the discovery of that secret was why he got kicked out of the army. And nobody, absolutely nobody, knows that he occasionally sneaks out to have anonymous sex with men. Until he meets Castiel freaking Novack - anonymous hook up turned new boss - who in less than a month manages to find out all three.

Casicorn by everandanon (Explicit, 56k words)

When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)

Finding You In Every Sign by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 99k words)

Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.

Hear You Me by through_shadows_falling (Explicit, 84k words)

Castiel is a college graduate stuck in two dead-end, part-time jobs. Oh, and he’s Deaf…which to his oldest brother Michael makes him something to constantly fret over. It’s not Castiel’s fault that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, right? Not like it’s Michael’s business anyways. Enter Dean Winchester. A chance encounter with the man has the power to change Castiel’s life - and in the end, maybe, just maybe, it will help him finally understand and accept who he is and what he’s meant to do.

i saw the light by LoversAntiquities (Mature, 14k words)

“Sam, you gotta hear about this ghost story I found the other day,” Susanne says over the speakerphone, just as loud as she has been for the last half hour. For the most part, Castiel ignores her—or tries—and concentrates on the beads dangling from between his fingers, centerpiece pressed to his forehead. Praying doesn’t work, but some mornings, when the coffee doesn’t get him going and the walls feel more like a prison than a home, he sits at the library table and whispers empty words into the crucifix, like Jesus can ease the festering ache in his chest. He can’t—no one else can either.

late july by thanks_tacos (Explicit, 26k words)

'I would like to take in your most abused one,' Castiel says, looking at the rows of doors in the yellow corridor. 'Give him a good home.' After his accident, Castiel needs someone to help him around the small brick house he lives in and the bookstore he owns. So, he adopts Dean; an omega who barely survived being dumped in a ditch and left for dead. Dean doesn't talk, but that's fine; they learn to live together in the quaint, rainy city surrounded by a green forest. Castiel just wants to give Dean a peaceful life he deserves, and maybe also - become his mate?

Looking for a Sign by emwebb17 (Mature, 70k words)

Dean can't figure out why the hot guy on the train is ignoring him…that is until he realizes that the man is profoundly deaf. After an unpleasant misunderstanding, the two become friends. It isn't long before Dean wants more, but Castiel sticks steadfastly to his rule about not dating hearing people. When Dean starts to date other people to try to get over him, Castiel starts to wonder if maybe Dean is the exception to the rule.

No Words by Ltleflrt (Explicit, 112k words)

On the run from his very powerful family, Castiel does his best to get lost. Because if he doesn’t know where he is, his brothers won’t be able to find him very easily either. He ends up in Silverton, a small mountain town nestled deep within the Rocky Mountains where he meets Dean Winchester, a very beautiful and very grumpy omega.

sunflower by unicornpoe (Teen and up, 4k)

Castiel comes home on a Sunday.

Still Waters Run Deep by thisisapaige (Explicit, 41k words)

In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak. It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood. In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate. Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

The Hanged Man by orphan_account (Mature, 87k words)

After Park Ranger Cas Novak saves a mysterious stranger named Dean from an attempted murder in the woods, he finds himself drawn into the man's secretive life. Someone tried to kill Dean, but he's not telling who. In fact, he's barely speaking at all. If he's going to have any hope of helping Dean, Cas will have to convince the man to trust him — all while trying not to fall in love with him along the way.

We also have a mute tag with more fics like these. Also if you search for 'selectively mute dean' or 'mute dean' (or cas if you prefer cas) on ao3 you might get lucky as well.

[alaynestone]

not to be overly applying real life concepts to a silly cw show lol but there's also something very perfect-victimy about the way people dismiss dean's victimhood vs sam's. like because dean's sarcastic or represses a lot of emotion or something people dismiss the things he went through. like obviously HE wants to forget about it and pretend it didn't happen, that's the point! but why are so many people dumb enough to hop right on board with that and literally erase/ignore things that happened to dean in the show (oftentimes in favor of pretending they happened to sam instead lol)... idk it's just a very weird thing that makes me feel protective of dean's character and what he represents in a way i don't usually with fictional characters. i love sam too but some of the samgirls or whatever take on a very cutting and aggressive tone that's slightly upsetting sometimes ngl. it just feels weirdly personal, not even at dean as much as like. anyone who dares to relate to dean as a character

i happen to think this "silly cw show" is actually far better at depicting complex trauma than people give it credit for.

but yeah, you are spot on here. it's absolutely about creating a perfect victim in sam and hyperfocusing on that while throwing nuance and context out the window entirely. even going all the way back to their childhood where dean is held fully responsible for the ways he responded to john's abuse by adapting rather than rebelling. dean is either considered responsible for his own situation or not a victim at all. he "liked" it, he perpetuated the "cycle", he was a lost cause, he was inferior to sam (and people loooove being classist about this, they think they're comedians) etc. which of course is NOT AT ALL the narrative presented to us by the show and erases the fascinating ways the brothers' arcs were paralleled throughout the seasons. for example, in season 2 you have dean only starting to confront the million ways john messed him up when he's not around anymore, just as sam is confronting his own destiny. the show explicitly links these two things yet dean is somehow generally viewed as the brother who's in charge of his own life. dean, who was controlled by his father until he was 27 and already in 1x11 admitting to sam that he admired him for making his own choices. i can't stress enough how "the one and only victim sam who completely lacks autonomy" is a fandom invention. and for what?

what you said about feeling protective of dean i think has always been part of his appeal. sam always had dean looking out for him, dean had no one. sam, even at his lowest, fundamentally valued himself and his own personhood, dean could never afford to because the survival of his family was up to him. he never coddled himself or let himself off the hook for a single perceived failure and i'm supposed to pile on? nah. his anger is so explosive in later seasons because he was never free to express his own feelings growing up and go through the regular stages teenagers and young adults do. i think there's a big effort to erase these nuances because if the actual story is taken into account, then it's impossible to forget how much dean went through so sam wouldn't have to. that sadly also ignores the impact it had on their relationship with dean's buried resentment towards sam, as well as sam's guilt for not always being there for dean in return. nearly every terrible traumatic thing sam experienced over the duration of the show is something dean had experienced already. at my most cynical, i think the purpose of reframing dean as this all powerful oppressor is because sam can only win the trauma olympics if dean is no longer vulnerable at all, no longer dean. and yes the trauma olympics approach is pointless, but if they're gonna insist on going there first, i'm not gonna hold back.

i mentioned sam's flinching and how it's valued as a trauma response compared to dean's anger but the thing is...before the cage, sam used to rage at dean and the entire world. his own anger nearly ate him up which he acknowledges multiple times. yet again, back when dean was fresh out of hell and sometimes genuinely freaked out by sam, including when he flinched at sam using his powers, it's still perceived as dean being cruel and abusive to sam. if sam feels bad about the moral implications and consequences of his actions it's because dean won't instantly get over it and support him. if dean doesn't trust him, it must be dean's fault alone. sam is the only one whose pov is taken into consideration and the only one whose feelings can be hurt. so it is a perfect victim thing but also about how only one of them gets to lash out and be vindictive and messy and remain sympathetic and good. essentially, sam gets to be a person but dean can only ever be sam's own personal giving tree.

it's classic fandom woobification with the childish "my fave can do no wrong" rhetoric, but since it's 2024 it's now hidden behind words like autonomy/cycles/abuse and passed around as objective analysis.

[inez-winchester-cameron]

"First Period"

↠Pairing: Dean and Sam Winchester x little sibling!reader (afab)

↠Summary: Dean and Sam help their little sister out as she experiences her first period (FLUFF)

↠Notes: reader is around 14, really late first period lol

-

Dean and Sam had raised you, their half-sibling, since they were twelve and seven. John had dropped you off to them one day, explaining that you were from a hook-up he had and your mother wanted nothing to do with you. So from that day forward, Dean and Sam took care of you. It was rough but they managed. 

Dean had known something was off since lunch, he just didn’t know what. After devouring your meal as you always do, you started complaining of your stomach hurting. Like the supportive brothers they were, they stopped at the gas station and grabbed you some medication but nothing seemed to be helping. You guys were still a good ways away from where you needed to go, nearly four hours. So you just suffered in the back of the Impala, holding your stomach while listening to Dean’s rock music. 

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat after a bit and felt something wet. You raised an eyebrow and looked down, moving over to see what you had sat on. Although it wasn’t visible on the black seats, you felt the wetness and lifted your finger up, discovering it was blood. Your eyes widened and you quickly looked at your body. Your jeans were absolutely soaked in blood, right on the crotch.

Being raised by two brothers with minimal education, didn’t really allow much time for “the talk”. Sam had minorly explained what a period was a few years back, but he didn’t get specific details, as he had been interrupted. It was then forgot about, why would they even remember something like that? Due to your limited social interaction with other kids, you had barely heard any talk of periods, pads, tampons, etc. You were a little panicked, looking at the blood and at your jeans.

“Umm,” you mumbled, and Sam glanced back.

“Y/n? Why’re you out of your seat? You should have your seatbelt on.” He turned back and his eyes widened at the giant stain on your jeans.

“S-Sam, I think I'm bleeding…” You mumbled. 

“You’re ble- what!?” Dean exclaimed, looking back. Dean slowed to a stop, pulling over. He then looked back to and his eyes also widened, “Aw fuck.”

Sam picked up on your panicked expression and quickly gained his composure, “You’re alright, Y/n. It’s just your period.”

“My- my period?” You asked, taking a minute to process.

“You didn’t give her the talk?” Dean questioned.

“No he did I just-” You defended the younger brother, “I just didn’t realize it would be like- this. Ummm..what do I do?”

Sam had briefly explained not what it was, but not what to do about it. Your face burned in embarrassment. Sam reached out and gently touched your knee while Dean pulled back out onto the road, “You’re okay, Y/n. We need to stop for some supplies okay?”

You slowly nodded, unsure of what he meant. You waited patiently, anxiously as Dean pulled into the next convenience store. Sam and Dean both went to get out, “Wait-! Can one of you stay?”

Sam smiled gently, “Of course. Dean, why don’t you head in?” Dean’s eyes widened, he didn’t know shit about periods. But he didn’t want to stress you out more, so he nodded and headed in. 

That’s how Dean ended up standing next to a random twelve year old in a convenience store. Dean stood there, hands in pockets, looking at what they had. The twelve year old, embarrassed, and too afraid to grab her pads in front of a random grown ass man, stood there as well. The two stood there for an embarrassingly long amount of time, waiting each other out. Eventually the girl’s mother retrieved her and grabbed the pads. Dean watched what she grabbed and grabbed the same exact ones. He then looked at the tampons. He ended up deciding on a variety pack of those. He played it cool at the register, pretending he wasn’t embarrassed to be buying feminine hygiene products. 

He eventually went back out to the Impala, getting back in and handing them to you, “There you go.” Sam glanced at him, silently wondering what took so long but Dean just shrugged. You looked at the boxes.

“Don’t worry about the tampons for now, just go into the bathroom and put a pad on your underwear, the sticky part goes in the middle, and the wings will fold onto the outside,” Sam explained, knowing his fair share of information from dating Jess. You nodded and went to do so, coming back later, “All set? Don’t worry we’ll get you new clothes as soon as we get to a motel and can find a store.”

You nod and set the bag to the side. Dean pulls out onto the road, glad this whole situation was over. Eventually you piped up from the back, “Hey, how do the tampons work?” Sam went to answer and glanced at Dean, smiling a little at what he was about to do.

“Don’t worry, Dean will explain that one to you later.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you. 

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted. 

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you. 

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother. 

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar. 

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.” 

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned. 

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes. 

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned. 

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

“So…”

You went silent again. 

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with. 

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups? 

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him. 

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you. 

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean. 

“Come on!” Dean urged you. 

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered. 

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked. 

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?” 

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you. 

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man. 

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture. 

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed. 

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh. 

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!” 

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention. 

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up. 

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s. 

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly. 

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently. 

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her. 

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded. 

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it. 

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.” 

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates. 

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered. 

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow. 

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse. 

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body. 

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body. 

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it. 

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again. 

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison. 

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door. 

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case. 

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said. 

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling. 

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply. 

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Vampire's Nest

Masterlist

We ended up hiding in the trees and look out this old barn house where we see the door open. A man comes out and holds up his arms to shield his face as another man pulls up his car to the building and walk over to him. They talk for a bit then they head back inside.

"Son of a bitch. So they're really not afraid of the sun?" Dean asked. "Ahh, direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day -- doesn't mean they won't wake up." John said. "So I guess walking right in's not our best option." I said with sarcasm. "Actually, that's the plan." John said and I turn to him. "Wait, what?" I said, shocked.

Dean opens up the trunk and we began to weapon up while John does the same from an automatic hidden compartment that slides from the back of his truck. "Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one." Dean said as he holds it up but John unveils a massive shiny serrated edge machete from a leather holder. "I think I'm ok. Thanks." John said as Dean and I check the machete out.

"Wow." Dean mutters.

"Impressive." I said and John turns to us.

"So, you three really wanna know about this Colt?" John asked us. "Yes sir." Sam and I said as Dean nods. "It's just a story, a legend really. Well I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter....Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say...they say this gun can kill anything." John explains and my jaw drops at this.

"Kill anything like, supernatural anything?" Dean asked. "Like the demon?" Sam asked. "Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun -- we may have it." John said as he looks between us.

John jumps through the barn window and disappears into the dark building. Then one by one, Dean, Sam and I follow him and we begin to survey the room. It was all quiet as the Vampires were sleeping in hammocks.

John starts to head one way while the boys and I make our way through the barn. I pass a hammock and, accidentally, kicked an empty bottle on the ground. I freeze in place then look over at the vampires, but they didn't seem to hear it as they continued to sleep. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and continued on until I hear Sam whisper yell at me and Dean.

"Guys." He whispers and we see a woman tied up to a pole. Sam begins to untie the woman until we hear a noise. "There's more." Dean whispers as he looks behind us. I turn around and Dean and I make our way to a locked metal grid.

Inside, we could see more people tied up. All of them seemed to be sleeping or they were unconscious, it was hard to tell. I try to open the door but I could see there's a lock on the door. Dean grabs a metal hook to break the lock. Sam and I look up sharply at the noise and we look over to the hammocks. But there is no movement.

Just then the woman tied up against the pole begins to stir. "Hey. Hey hey, shh, I'm here to help you." Sam assures her when she roars, an unearthly roar. Sam rears back while Dean and I look around to see the vampires waking up. 

"Sam!" Dean and I shout and we start to get up. "Kids, run!" We hear John shout and we run as the vampires give chase. We burst out the barn doors into the daylight and run up the slope to the cars before turning to look back.

"Dad?" Dean calls out but nothing. "Dad!!" Dean calls out again. After a long pause John comes running up the slope. As soon as we see him, the boys and I turn to leave.

"They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life." John tells us once we put some distance between us and the nest. "Well, what the hell do we do now?" I asked him. "You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what." John said. The boys and I look at him, confused, then at each other.

"Whew. Man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys." Dean said as he and I return the motel room where Sam and John were left inside. So far, it looked like they hadn't killed each other so that's good.

"Get it?" John asked us and I pull out a paper bag from my jacket pocket. Then I pull out a bottle full of blood out of the bag, or Dead Man's Blood as they call it, then handed it to John, who takes it and looks it over.

"You know what to do." John said to us and we nodded.

John, Sam and I were hiding in the woods, John and Sam were on the other side of the woods, while I was hiding close by to Dean and the Impala. I was holding a crossbow with a loaded arrow, the tip covered in Dead Man's blood, and we watch as Dean leans over the opened hood of the Impala, looking at the engine.

"Car trouble?" A woman asked and we see a dark-haired woman standing there as Dean turns to her. "Let me give you a lift. I'll take you back to my place." She said, flirting, and I clench my jaw at this. "Nah I'll pass. I usually draw the line at necrophilia." Dean said, smirking, at her.

"Oooh." The woman said then she backhands him as another vampire approaches. She grabs Dean's face and lifts him into the air. "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date but..." Dean said to her as I raise the bow a bit.

"You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends." She said, seductively, and she lowers him to her level and kisses him, still holding his cheeks tightly. The other vampire watches this, smiling, and I take aim. 

"Oh. Whuf. Sorry. I don't usually stay with a chick that long. Definitely not eternity." Dean said and an arrow pierces the other vamp's back and I fire the arrow into the woman's chest. "Dammit." She growls once she looks down at the arrow in her chest while Sam, John and I emerge from the trees.

"It barely even stings." She growls at us. "Give it time, sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?" John asked and she looks at us, shocked, then wavers and loses consciousness. "Load her up." John said to us then he gestures to the other vampire.

"I'll take care of this one." He said and he approaches the other vampire, who is sitting groggily on the ground. Raising his machete, he brings it down on the vampire's head.

Later, we had a campfire burning and John hands Dean a bag and they move from the Impala's trunk back toward the fire where Sam and I were patrolling with a couple of machete. "Toss this on the fire. Saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers, until we're ready." John said as Dean sniffs the bag and coughs. "Stuff stinks!" He said.

"That's the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you stand a chance of not being detected." John instructs us. "You sure they'll come after her?" Sam asked John. "Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time." John informs us.

"A half hour oughta do it." I said and John nods. "And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can." John said and we give him a confused look.

"But..." Sam said as Dean shakes his head.

"Dad, you can't take care of them all by yourself." Dean said to him. "I'll have her. And the Colt." John said as he gestures towards the vampire. "But after....We're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together. Right?" I asked him and he looks between the three of us and Sam sighs.

"You're leaving again, aren't you? You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this." Sam said, his voice rising. "Like what?" John asked. "Like children." Sam replied. "You two are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe. And I know (y/n) isn't my kid, but I feel an obligation to keep her safe, I'm sure (father's name) would agree with me." John said.

"Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap." Dean said and we all look at him in shock. "Excuse me?" John asked, shocked. "You know what? Sammy, (y/n) and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe." Dean said as he steps up.

"It's not the same thing, Dean." John said to him. "Then what is it, John? Why do you want us out of the big fight?" I asked him. "This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive." John said. "You mean you can't be as reckless." Dean spat.

"Look...I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death...it almost killed me. I can't watch my children and my best friend's daughter die too. I won't." John said.

"What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die, and we could've done something about it? You know I been thinking. I...think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together." Dean said and Sam and I nod. "We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it." Dean said and John looks at us, looking unconvinced.

"We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order." John said and he walks off. I frown as Dean looks down, emotional, and Sam clenches his jaw. I look at the boys and placed an arm around and give them a side hug.

The boys and I make it back to the barn and we take out the vampires that stayed behind then make our way to the locked container that was full of people. "I told you we'd come back." Dean said as I begin to break the hinges. 

Once we break the people out, we grab some crossbows and started to make our way to find John. Eventually, we find John unconscious on the ground next to his truck just as one of the vampires looms over him.

Dean raises his crossbow and fires an arrow, which pierces one of the vampires. We run out of the trees, Dean pauses to line up while I shoot another vampire with my crossbow. Sam moves toward the vampire, that was gonna attack John, but he backhands Sam.

Dean grabs a machete and we turn to help but the vampire has his arm around Sam's throat and I raise the crossbow at the vampire. "Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the blade and the crossbow down." The vampire ordered but Dean and I do nothing.

Then the vampire tightens his hold on Sam's neck, cutting off his air supply completely. Dean and I drop the machete and the bow, immediately. "You people. Why can't you leave us alone. We have as much right to live as you do." The vampire spat at us.

"I don't think so." John's voice said and the vampire turns around as John raises the colt and shoots him between the eyes. The vampire lets go of Sam who stumbles away, gasping, and Dean and I pull Sa. behind us.

A sigil appears where the bullet hit the vampire and he stumbles. A brief flash of light reflects his skeleton, before he falls to his knees. "Lutherrrr!!!!" The female vampire, we caught earlier, screams as another flash of light passes through Luther and he slumps to the ground dead.

The woman starts toward John but another vamp grabs her, pulling her to their car. They take off, wheels screaming, while John smiles at us, in satisfaction.

The next day, we were packing up when John enters the room and we turn to face him. "So, kids..." he said. "Yes sir." Sam said. "You ignored a direct order back there." John said as he looks between us. "Yes sir." Sam and I said. "Yeah but we saved your ass." Dean said and Sam and I look sideways at Dean, nervously.

John looks steadily at Dean, who swallows. "You're right." John said and a confused look washes over Dean's face. "I am?" He asked. "It scares the hell out of me. You three are all I've got." John said then he turns me. "Even if you're not my own blood, (y/n)." He said to me and I nod at him. "But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together." John said and we nod at him.

"Yes sir." We said in unison.

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Baby (11x04)

Okay, so this is my favorite episode out of all 327 episodes of Supernatural, and here's why...

The cold open is a perfect teaser. There's no score or music playing, it's just the ambient sound of what seems to be a train passing nearby. We get all those wonderful details that were called out in Chuck's narration/monologue from Swan Song (5x22), the ashtray with the little, green, plastic soldier jammed into it, the legos in the heating vent, Sam and Dean's initials carved into the panel back by the rear window. But there's also so much broken glass and blood, and Dean unconscious and handcuffed in the backseat.

The lack of a musical score (non-diegetic sound) is actually a feature of the entire episode, the only songs heard are ones that are actually being played within the universe of the show (diegetic sound), either on Baby's radio or from nearby, as is the case, I believe, in the beginning of Act 1 where Sam joins Dean in washing Baby in the bunker's garage and Dean is listening to "The Guitar Man" by Bread. But while normally the lack of music would make it feel like something was missing, the ambient sounds in this episode are so rich and detailed, they just pop so beautifully and it adds to the feeling that you are in the car.

While the case in the episode is interesting and gives us a new kind of monster to add to the show's lore, what really makes the story great are all of the casual interactions we are given between the brothers. The quiet little glimpses of "normal" life in the Impala. The boys at ease with one another and there are lots of comfortable little moments that give a day-in-the-life quality to the episode. Sam having green smoothies in the green cooler instead of it being just stocked with beer. The great roadhouse scene that has Dean going into the bar at night and then coming back out in the morning only to happily find that Sam had hooked up with a waitress named Piper in the backseat over night. I love that they had obviously not only had sex in the backseat right in front of the bar, but had fallen asleep naked back there. But we also get, a little later in the episode, a glimpse of Sam flirting with a cashier while he's looking for old pennies and having two scenes involving a flirty, smiling Sam is a precious gift indeed. We get laughing, smiling Sam and Dean, just enjoying each other's company, such a rare treat. The episode also gives us the return of Matt Cohen playing young John Winchester, sort of, which is sweetly ominous, not a common combination. The "Winchester Hotel" scene of the boys spending the night in the car is great, giving us a heart-to-heart talk with some new background details about their lives, and an iconic shot of them laying down, Dean across the front seat and Sam across the back, that begs the obvious question of where are their lower legs and how do they fit in the, admittedly roomie, interior of the car like that?

We even get to see Baby have a little adventure away from the boys, courtesy of Jessie the valet, who picks up a friend and takes the car on a brief joyride before returning her to Dean. Piper and Jessie's presence in the car introduce props that become instrumental in the plot, an element that I love, from Piper's hairpin that allows Dean to escape the cuffs we saw him in during the cold open, to the pennies that Dean finds in Jessie's joyride friend's lost purse. If these other characters hadn't been in the car, Dean likely would have met a gruesome death, and we wouldn't have been given the phenomenal fight sequence in the car or the following Sexiest Scene Ever™️ of Jensen doing a perfect reverse 180 as Dean drives Baby away from where she'd crashed. Finally, a bloody and battered Sam is retrieved, equally beat up as Dean and the car both are, and he declares the car as home.

For having been shot entirely from within the confines of the car, as roomy as she may be, the episode never feels small or claustrophobic. We feel like we've had an adventure, been on the adventure with Sam and Dean, met some new characters that broadened the overall world of the show, while getting to touch base with old friends (Cas' phone calls are wonderfully and hilariously done). And while I do wish that we'd gotten more of these sorts of little, mundane aspects of Sam and Dean's life, this entire episode feels like a goddamn gift that was wrapped with utmost care and exquisite skill. Seriously, the cast and crew of Supernatural were/are insanely talented and Baby, directed by Thomas J. Wright, is just a masterpiece.

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

A/N: I broke chapter 20 into 2 parts. It too, was very long.

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3470

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Sensory Processing Sensitivity (SPS), Angst, slow burn, Death, Fluff (some)

----------------------------------------- Chapter 20 Pt. 2 - Azazel

Sam and Jess cleaned up after dinner. It was simple since there were no leftovers. They all had another beer before they went down to the dungeon hiding in one of the archive rooms.

Jess stayed near the opening of the dungeon, at Sam’s request while John and Bobby went over to the table with the ingredients, candles, and small altar with sigals painted on the table under it all. Maria was on the far side of the room, outside the devil’s trap. Sam and Dean were on either side, leaving room for Jess to be able to see. Dean looked over at Maria and smiled a little. She had that serious yet excited look, that hunter look, and he loved seeing it on her. 

Bobby spoke the incantation as John held the Colt, ready. Once Bobby dropped the match in the bowl of ingredients, smoke fizzled up, and Azazel appeared in the center of the devil’s trap, looking somewhat surprised, with an undertone of anger.

“Well, look who got some new toys,” he said cockily, looking around the room.

“It’s time to face justice, Azazel,” John told him, aiming the Colt.

“Don’t you want to know why though? Why Sammy here is so important that his mummy had to die?” Azazel smirked, knowing he could get under their skin, “Or even why dearest Maria’s parents had to be out of the picture?”

All of them were a little curious but also knew that demons lied. This demon though, was way worse, “Why?” Maria asked, surprising all of them.

That made Azazel smirk, smugly before he turned to her, “I see you’ve got your glow back. Been looking for you since before you were born, beautiful.” Dean’s jaw clenched, as did his fists but he didn’t move. He knew if he got inside that devil’s trap Azazel could still hurt him. Maria glared at Azazel though, which made Dean happy, seeing that fire in her eyes.

“You may kill me but I have plenty of others that will make sure my plan is completed, including that little bitch there lighting up, just like mommy,” Azazel told Sam as he turned and pointed at Jess.

Maria used her powers, moving the chair and making Azazel sit down, then used the cuffs that were hanging on the wall to cuff him to the hooks in the cement floor. She was pissed but she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to learn what his plan was or how many demons he had working for him.

“What plan?” Bobby asked, now standing opposite Maria, barely blocking Jess’s view from where she stood.

Azazel looked over his shoulder at Maria, “My my my, you’ve gotten good with that one. You’ll be the perfect little incubator for Sammy’s demonic spawn,” he cooed before looking back over at Sam, “Killing me won’t stop it, Sammy. You have a destiny to fulfill,” with those words, his eyes went yellow, “My children will have to prove who is stronger and can lead my army.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam demanded, getting pissed, quickly.

“That’s right, get angry, feel it, use it,” Azazel egged him on, “You’ll find out, when it’s time. Hope that sweet little piece of ass of yours likes being indoors. The moment she steps outside, you’ll watch her burn.”

Maria looked at John and nodded. There was no point in keeping Azazel alive. He wasn’t going to give them anything else, and they knew it. Before Azazel could say another word, John shot him in the head. There was an odd sparking along Azazel’s skin, like his skeleton was almost glowing under his skin, as the demon died, that light fading.

As they cleaned things up, Azazel’s words buzzed in all their minds, just in different ways. John and Bobby took care of Azazel’s body with Dean’s help. Maria could hear Jess reassure Sam that she loved him and wasn’t going anywhere, even if it did mean staying inside the bunker for an unknown amount of time. That made her smile a little and think of Dean. To have that kind of connection with someone made her body ache in a way she didn’t understand and she felt a loneliness she hadn’t felt before. The feeling made her want to just curl up in her bed in a ball but that would have to wait. They had agreed on a couple of celebratory drinks.

Dean grabbed the whiskey while John grabbed shot glasses, as the others sat around the library tables. They decided to focus on the win of Azazel being out of the picture. They were also at least a little safer. So, for now, they were smiling while Dean poured the whiskey and when Sam made him laugh and spill some, they all laughed with and at him. There was a lightheartedness to the atmosphere as they toasted before downing the shots. Maria felt that comfort that came from whiskey and chose to switch to beer. She knew better than to give in to that feeling again. 

“You okay?” John asked her as she got up.

“Yeah. Let's just say I made myself, and others, a promise earlier this year. I’ll just have a beer with all of you,” she explained to him softly.

Dean raised an eyebrow and watched her, having no clue what she meant. It was something she hadn’t shared with him, not in detail at least. John and Bobby didn’t know either but Sam and Jess did, and both of them smiled a bit, proud of her. They knew how hard something like that had to be on her. Maria grabbed a beer and stared at it in her hands for a minute, sighing, debating just putting it back as she leaned her back against the counter. She set the beer down on the counter to her right and wrapped her arms around her sides.

“You okay?” she heard him ask softly from the doorway.

She had honestly wanted to cry, so looked away from him. Dean walked closer to her, slowly, feeling as though if he moved too quickly he’d spook her somehow. Everything in him was telling him to just hold her and he was fighting it tooth and nail.

“Not really…” she mumbled.

He couldn’t take it anymore and put his arms around her gently, pulling her close to him. She froze and he felt it but he wasn’t about to let her go. Whether she would admit it or not, she needed this, “It’s okay, a hug won’t kill you, I promise Sweetheart,” he told her softly, gently rubbing her back.

She was still tense and this time she felt the wall that she’d built between them even with him as close as he was. Her mind raced and she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. She didn’t even realize that she was taking very shallow breaths. Maria wanted to let go, let that wall fall down but was terrified of what that meant. She still hadn’t moved her hands to reciprocate the hug.

Dean moved his other hand to the back of her head, softly stroking her hair, now just holding his hand against the small of her back. The hug was loose enough that if she really wanted to run, she could. She wasn’t frozen, just tense and he could feel it. He decided it was time to attempt a little humor.

“I got a question, with you being what you are, will you pass out if you don’t take a deep breath?” he asked her, in a teasingly playful way, as he could tell she’d barely been breathing as it was.

His question caught her completely off guard but she couldn’t help the genuine laughter she had, which also relaxed her a bit in his arms. She smiled a little and slowly moved her arms so that they were around his waist, then leaned her head on his shoulder. Dean smiled, feeling her finally start to relax, even if it was only a little. 

“See. I told you a hug wouldn’t kill you,” he joked.

She laughed softly, even smiled a little, “You want me to admit that you were right?” she asked, in a teasing sort of tone.

It was Dean’s turn to chuckle, “It’d be nice but no, that’s not why I said it.”

Maria looked up just in time to see Jess stop dead in her tracks in the doorway of the kitchen and she quickly pulled away from Dean, feeling her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. Dean looked at her, confused until he turned and saw Jess, then groaned. He felt like he had gotten so close and now would have to start all over again with her. Maria didn’t look at either of them as she left the kitchen and went to her room, her hand gripping her flannel closed over her heart. It was too many emotions and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sit with the others not with them just below her skin now. She didn’t even turn on her light, just crawled into bed and curled into a ball before the tears fell.

“Thanks, Jess,” Dean almost growled at her before he went back into the library, needing more than just another shot of whiskey.

“I’m sorry Dean. If I had known I wouldn’t have even come looking for her,” Jess apologized, following him back out of the kitchen.

The three in the library looked at the two of them, “What’s going on?” Sam asked, somewhat annoyed with Dean’s tone toward Jess.

“Blondie here probably just ruined everything. That’s what’s going on,” Dean stated, annoyed as he poured himself a double and downed it.

“Boy, be nice,” Bobby told him sternly.

“There’s no reason to take it out on Jess,” John added.

“What was so important that you had to go looking for her anyway?” Dean asked, still annoyed.

“I was looking through the filing cabinets and I found some old pictures. Bobby said that her dad was in one of them and wanted to show her,” Jess explained.

He couldn’t be mad and he knew it, even if he was. Dean poured himself another drink but sipped this one, “What the hell has gotten into you?” John asked him, somewhat frustrated himself.

Dean leaned back against the table, facing away from them, ignoring his father’s question. Sam rolled his eyes before he looked at John, “He’s got a crush on Maria but she’s not the most receptive,” Sam explained, dryly.

“You hurt that girl and I’ll kick your ass boy,” Bobby told him, meaning it.

Again Dean didn’t even acknowledge the remark, scoffing under his breath. He had no idea how to fix this one or get close to her again. He thought he heard quiet sobs coming from her room but it could have also just been his imagination. 

“I’m going to bed,” he said in a low, annoyed tone before he downed the rest of his drink. 

“I’m still really sorry Dean, about earlier,” Jess told him, apologetically.

“I know,” he sighed before he headed down the hall.

Her room was far enough away from the opening of the hallway that the door couldn’t be seen from where any of them sat in the library. As he passed it, he heard what sounded like quiet, muffled sobs again and it made him stop dead in his tracks, listening, “Damnit,” he mumbled under his breath, clenching his fists at his sides.

Dean took a deep breath before he looked at her door, his internal battle raging again. He knew he’d have to choose before any of the others decided they wanted to go to bed. Gingerly he reached out, quietly opening her door and slipping inside, closing it just as quietly behind him. Her room was dark but he could hear her so for now he just stood there, letting his eyes adjust. When they did though, he felt a pain in his heart seeing her like she was, curled up in a ball, hugging her pillow, sobbing as quietly as she could. Dean slipped off his shoes and slowly walked over to her bed, taking a deep breath before he sat down on the edge of it, gently setting his hand on her side. He felt her freeze under his touch and sighed.

“I just want to be here for you, will you let me?” he asked her quietly.

She was terrified and it felt like all her nerves were on edge and exposed but she also felt a sense of comfort in his words and his touch, so she nodded, hoping he could see. Dean carefully laid down on the bed behind her and got comfortable on his side before he put his arm around her this time, resting his hand on her stomach. He could feel how tense she was which made him sigh.

“I know I said it earlier or the other day. I don’t quite remember when. I really am sorry, for pushing you so far away that you had to put up that hard of a shell around me,” he told her, in a soft, quiet tone, just wishing she’d relax.

Maria wanted the tears to stop but they wouldn’t, especially when he kept talking, so she buried her face in her pillow again. It was like everything hurt and she didn’t know how to tell him so he’d understand. She didn’t even fully understand it herself. He scooted closer to her though, letting their bodies almost mold together and he felt her let go of another set of quiet sobs. He moved his hand from her stomach to her hair, gently moving it away from her face and her neck, tucking it behind her ear. Dean then gently rubbed her shoulder, trying to help her relax.

“I’m sorry…” she finally managed, a break in her tears.

“Sorry for what?” he asked her softly.

“For this…” she mumbled.

He smiled a little and rubbed her arm softly, “Well, the way I see it. I get to hold you close, so there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

That completely puzzled her and made her tears instantly stop. She turned herself so that she could look at him, now lying more on her back with his hand on her stomach, “Huh?” she asked him.

All he kept telling himself was, don’t kiss her, when she rolled like she did. He still had that soft smile that sort of looked like a happy smirk to her. He reached up and caressed her cheek and even though she flinched at first, she didn’t move away from him.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked her.

She would have looked away had his hand not still been on her cheek so she just averted her eyes from his. Maria knew what she wanted to say but she also knew how it was going to sound, “I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t know how to say it… nicely.”

“I’ll bite. Just say it. I won’t get upset,” he replied, trying not to smirk.

She bit her bottom lip nervously again for a moment, still unable to meet his gaze, “I… well… you. No, wait, that’s not it,” she began, and fumbled over her words. Maria took a deep breath and tried again, thankful he didn’t laugh, “What you… make me… feel…” she finally got out.

He just smiled softly down at her, gently caressing her cheek, “Like what?” he asked, in a soft, curious tone.

She grumbled a little, “I don’t know what they even are or how to describe them,” she mumbled, shyly.

“Okay. Well, can you describe what you feel while I’m doing this?” he asked, caressing her cheek with his thumb while he held her with his hand.

“Umm… like my stomach is flip-flopping,” she mumbled.

He chuckled a little, “That’s called butterflies. It’s normal when you like someone.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” she grumbled.

Dean found her adorable at the moment but couldn’t say it, not yet, “What about being this close to me?”

She had to think about that one, “Kinda shaky?” she replied, not sure how else to describe it.

“Pretty sure that’s just nerves, Sweetheart,” he chuckled.

Maria grumbled again, “Why is liking someone so uncomfortable?” That time he couldn’t help himself, the laughter, although quiet, came out and she smacked him on his shoulder, “That wasn’t funny. It was a serious question.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep a mostly straight face, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m not sure how to answer your question though.”

She huffed a little before glancing up at him and then away again, attempting a deep breath, “That one,” he began, “What’s that one feel like,” he asked, noticing her glance and her reaction.

“Like someone or something is compressing my lungs and it’s hard to breathe,” she mumbled.

“That’s anticipation mixed with anxiety, but it's in a good way. Sometimes your heart might even beat a little faster,” he tried to explain, then got a thought, “How do you think you’d feel if I kissed you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maria felt all those things again and made herself look up at him, “Just the thought makes me feel all that stuff and it’s really uncomfortable,” she told him, managing to be honest, even if she was feeling shy, nervous, anxious, and more vulnerable than she’d ever felt before.

Dean sighed, “There are a couple ways we could go about helping you get past those. First, we could just go for it, like ripping off a bandaid really fast,” he told her gently.

“Or?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Or, we could take this as slow as you’re comfortable with, even if that means you initiate any contact we have,” he replied, just as gently.

She groaned quietly, “Too bad there’s no in-between,” she sighed.

“There is, but I don’t want you to feel pushed,” he told her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, curiously.

He liked that she was at least curious, “I could do little things, like, umm…” he paused to think, “kiss your forehead, hold your hand, hug you. Things like that.”

She thought about it for a minute, leaving the two in a suspended silence, “We could try that, I guess,” she replied, shyly, “And, for the record, I hate feeling this way,” she added, finally looking up at him.

He furrowed his brow, confused, “Feeling what way?” 

“Weak…” she replied quietly.

He couldn’t believe he’d just heard her say that about herself, and he couldn’t stop what he did and said next. Dean shifted his body so that he was leaning on his elbow, looking down at her now, holding her hand with the one he’d had on her cheek, “You are the least weak person I’ve ever met. Literally, everything you just shared with me shows a huge amount of courage. You didn’t have to share that stuff with me. You could have told me to leave but you didn’t,” he told her, seriously, yet gently and sincerely.

She wasn’t sure what changed, but looking up at him didn’t feel uncomfortable like it did before. Perhaps it was the sincerity in his words or the gentleness of how he was looking at her. She couldn’t put her finger on it but she smiled, just a little up at him, “Thanks.”

Dean smiled and kissed her on her forehead before he snuggled back up next to her, “I’ll head to my room when you want me to go but I’ll hold you as long as you’ll let me.”

Maria smiled a little and rolled onto her side, getting comfortable against him so that her back was to his chest. He gently moved his hand down her shoulder, along her arm, and rested his hand on her hip. She shivered at his touch, even if it was over her flannel, only it had nothing to do with being cold.

“You cold?” he asked her.

She giggled a bit, “No, I’m not cold.”

He smirked and pulled her a little closer, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck but more on her hair, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. She sighed and closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to relax herself the best she could. There was something about him being behind her, as close as he was that was comforting even if it was also uncomfortable. 

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep in his arms. Dean was still awake, feeling her breathing, and smiled when she did fall asleep. Since she hadn’t asked him to leave, he finally closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 21 - Time to make a choice

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.37

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Violence.

Bamby

Sam was being weird. While Dean ordered the coffees and food, you stood with the younger brother and couldn’t help notice that something was off. He was wriggling around like there was something in your pants.

“Thank you.” Dean nodded to the guy who handed him the coffees before he turned to lead your little group away. As you all walked to a table, he noticed Sam’s wriggling. “Dude what's your problem?”

“Nothing, I'm fine,” Sam insisted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Letting it go, Dean got back to the job. “So, ahhh, all right keep going. What about these Tulpas?”

Putting his bag on the table, Sam took a seat as he started to explain, “Ok, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualised a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.”

“So?” Dean asked.

Before you could take a seat for yourself, Dean pulled your chair closer to his. You frowned for a short moment before shrugging and plopping yourself into the chair. His arm rested behind it as the two of you sipped at your drinks while Sam spoke.

“That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.” Sam pulled his computer out of his bag before starting it up.

“Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?”

You shrugged, answering Dean’s question, “How do monsters happen? Maybe people just believe hard enough and then we’ve got bad guys under beds and in closets.”

Dean didn’t look convinced though. “People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Cuz you're a bad person.” Sam gave him a pointed look before turning his computer to Dean. “And because of this… That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai ... I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”

“It would explain why he keeps changing,” Dean agreed.

Wriggling again, Sam ignored whatever was annoying him as he went on, “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work.”

“Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit.” Dean nodded. “Ok. So why don't we just...uhh ... get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?”

Sam sighed, “Well it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

“Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage. Since they've posted the video their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

“Hmph.” Dean considered things for a moment before he reached over and closed Sam’s laptop. “I got an idea. Come on.” His hand fell into yours, leading you up and off your chair as Sam gathered his things.

“Where we going?”

“We gotta find a copy store,” Dean answered, handing you your coffee from the table.

Groaning, Sam tried gathering his things as quickly as possible but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. “Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something.” It was then that Dean cracked a smirk and started laughing. Sam turned to him, unimpressed. “You did this? You're a friggin jerk!”

“Oh yeah,” Dean continued to chuckle as he led you away.

It seemed as if their games weren’t over just yet.

…

Dean stepped up to the trailer and paused a moment, looking back at you and Sam before he knocked on the door. There was a pause inside before someone called out.

“Who is it?”

“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” he called back to them. There was another pause before the door opened, revealing two guys. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.”

You’d never met the ghost hunters Sam and Dean had told you about yet. You’d gathered they were nerdy and awkward… you also assumed they’d be Beta. You, of course, were right. But they were still males and once they spotted you, they paused whatever insults they’d been ready to throw at the brothers.

“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam started, ignoring the way they were staring at you.

The dark haired one slapped the other, murmuring something about the guys bringing a chick. The other swallowed around the thick nothing in his throat as he tried not to wobble on the spot.

Trying to save face, the one with glasses pretended to be brave as he shrugged. “Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now,” he noted as he stepped out of the trailer.

“Ok well we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website,” Dean told them simply.

Glasses laughed. “Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…”

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” the other added.

“Why should we trust you guys?”

Sam sighed, “Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.”

“That's right.” Dean nodded. “Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Glasses rolled his eyes.

The other one, however, looked uncertain. “Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe...”

“Nope…” Clearly Glasses- Ed- ran the show. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

Lifting your hand, you pressed it against Dean’s chest to stop him. “Just forget about it, okay? I know you could toss them around like ragdolls, and I could tell them what I found out about Mordechai, but nothing we do will make them help us.” You sighed, “Let’s just go.”

The nerds were suddenly very intrigued.

“Whoa.. whoa…” Ed stepped towards you.

Dean ignored him, looking down at you with a shrug. “Yeah, you're right.”

As the three of you started towards Baby again, the two Betas followed, both of them fumbling over each other’s sentences.

“What you say about...?”

“Hang on a second here.”

“Wait...wait.”

“What thing about Mordechai you guys?”

Reaching the car, Dean reached for your door as he turned to you. “Don’t say anything, sweetheart.”

You paused and sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the Betas with your best sweet eyes. “But if they agree to shut the website down…

“They're not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean noted.

Ed stepped forward then, trying his best to look determined and trustworthy. “No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it.”

Chewing your lip, you pretended to consider it as you looked at the two of them. “Promise you’ll shut it down?” you asked, doe eyes in full effect.

“Totally,” Ed promised.

Smiling brightly at him, you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the fake death certificate you and Sam had made together at the library earlier. “It's a death certificate,” you started. “From the '30s. We got it at the library.

“Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound,” Sam added.

Dean nodded. “That's right he didn't hang or cut himself.”

The one that wasn’t Ed looked shocked. “He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds…” Dean paused for dramatic effect before adding, “it'll kill the son of a bitch.”

The three of you watched as the two Betas took the bait. Scurrying off with the fake birth certificate, they hurried back to their trailer, trying to remain cool but completely failing.

Just like that… the plan was in motion.

…

Sitting in a diner, munching on your shared fries with Dean, you watched as Sam reached up to turn off the mechanical fisherman hanging from the wall above your table.

“If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you,” he warned his brother.

Moving fast, Dean pulled the string again, making the fisherman laugh. Sam snatched at the string, shutting it up.

Dean chuckled. “Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense.”

“Not too tense.” You grinned, plopping a fry in your mouth.

Dean looked from you to his brother and back, a smirk of his own forming. “You’re a little vixen.” Leaning in, he caught your lips in a kiss as the two of you grinned against each other, his teeth tugging on your lip before he pulled back. Sighing, he turned to Sam again. “They post it yet?”

Without words, Sam turned his computer around, showing you and Dean the new post about Mordechai and his ‘found’ death certificate. You were pretty pleased with the handiwork.

Dean shrugged. “We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. All right. How long do we wait?”

“Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker,” Sam answered.

“Sweet.” Dean nodded, reaching for his beer. He took a swig and went to put it back down, but found his hand stuck to the bottle. His eyes grew wide, knowingly. “You didn't.”

Sam laughed, pulling out superglue from his pocket. “Oh, I did!”

“You two are impossible.” You rolled your eyes at them, but even you couldn’t help but admit that it was funny.

…

Sitting in Baby, a distance away from Mordechai’s house so you were safe, but close enough so you could see the house in the distance, you held your gun in your lap. The brothers felt better bringing you at night now that you could protect yourself with the gun. But they still didn’t want you in the house.

Watching the place, you waited with baited breath, hoping that they would simply walk out any second now with a job well done.

But the longer you waited… the worse you felt.

Gunshots went off, causing you to jump where you sat. You didn’t move, though. You’d been expecting the gunshots, it was the plan… what you weren’t expecting was the brothers to not leave the house right away.

Something was wrong.

Throwing the car door open, you didn’t bother closing it as you hurried for the house. Throwing the door open, you could hear noise from around the corner. It sounded like Sam struggling.

Moving as fast as your feet would let you, you ran around the corner and found Sam being held against the wall, with the hilt of an axe being dressed against his throat as an imposing man pressed it against his airway.

“Sam!” Lifting your gun, you aimed it at the man who you could only assume was Mordechai before you pulled the trigger.

Mordechai stumbled at the impact of the bullets, but nothing more happened. Letting Sam go, which had him drop to the floor, Mordechai then turned to you. His face pulled into a grin as your eyes went wide… you were in danger.

Stalking towards you with heavy feet, Mordechai lifted his axe and took aim. You flinched, ducking down quickly as he swung the axe. It landed in the rotting wood of the wall, getting stuck momentarily.

“Hey!”

Looking behind you, you spotted Dean with an aerosol can and his lighter at the ready. Scurrying out of the way, you hurried over to him as Mordechai pulled his axe free. He didn’t get the chance to use it, though, before Dean set the can alight, turning it into a flamethrower.

“Go go go!”

Sam hurried over to us, staying low, before he helped me to my feet. Dean was close behind as we all started for the front door.

“Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him.” Dean shrugged. “We improvise.”

Lifting his lighter again, Dean then tossed it on the ground from the direction we’d come from. Flames engulfed the ground where he’d apparently poured something that was highly flammable. 

Then the three of you were running, hurrying out of the now burning house. Neither of you stopped until you were on the other side of the bushes.

“That's your solution?” Sam looked at his brother like he was insane. “Burn the whole damn place to the ground?”

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works,” Dean had a good point.

Sam didn’t look impressed. “Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean clearly hadn’t thought that over, but he hadn’t had the time to. “Well then we'll just have to come back.”

It was the best option there was.

…

Back at the trailer park, the three of you were waiting and watching as Ed and his friend- who you now knew was called Harry- started towards your little group. They were carrying supplies, clearly ready for a long road trip. There was a smug look about them, more smug than usual.

“Gentlemen, lady.” Ed nodded to the three of you.

“Hey guys.”

“Should we tell 'em?” Harry asked Ed.

Ed shrugged. “Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades.”

With that being a good enough answer, Harry turned back to the rest of you. “So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean grinned.

Ed glared at him. “No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.”

“And create the RPG,” Harry added.

“The what?”

You leaned closer to Dean to answer his question, “Role playing game.”

Looking more pleased with himself, Ed continued towards their car. “Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we're off to la-la land.”

As we followed them, Sam spoke up, “Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “That's awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent.” Ed was so full of himself. “Later.”

The two of them piled into their car before driving off.

Watching them leave, Dean scoffed. “Wow.” Shaking his head, he started towards Baby. You followed, slipping your hand into his.

Sam wasn’t too far behind. “I have a confession to make.”

“Hmm?” You looked to your left as he fell into step with you and his brother.

Sam shrugged. “I, uh...I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” A sheepish grin found its way onto his lips.

Dean stopped in his tracks and laughed a full belly laugh. “Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat.”

The two of them cracked up, laughing hard together. You couldn’t help but join them, agreeing that out of all the pranks they’d ever played, they were the two best ones.

“Truce?” Sam offered once you all calmed down.

“Yeah truce,” Dean agreed. “At least for the next 100 miles.”

Bamby