#dean x you

Thu, 29 Oct 2020 21:00:46

Catch You Later

You wanted to scream in frustration.

You and Sam had been wrapping up a wendigo case. The wendigos had been twins, so you had split off. You and Sam taking on the first one, and Dean on the other side of the park taking the second.

Shortly after ganking the first wendigo twin, Dean called Sam for backup… which apparently didn’t include you, because Sam hadn’t even blinked when he abandoned you with the Impala.

It was ten miles up this stretch of road. Course, it wouldn’t take Sam very long. But you? That was at least a two-hour walk, if not three. Running would be faster, but you were wiped after being out in the blistering sun all day.

The sky was dimming, too. Even if you had ganked the wendigo, walking alone in the woods at dark was a big hunter no-no. Your pistol was useless against a wendigo, and Sam had taken the flare gun.

You could take a shortcut through the woods to get to the campground. Less than a half a mile in, and you’d be right next to tents and RV’s. Surely you could hitch a ride from that point, if not, hot-wire a car.

With that, you veered off the trail. The terrain was muddy and covered with old, dead leaves. “Stupid Winchesters,” you said, kicking at the tall grass and brooding. It was like you were a freaking balloon. Appealing, but easily forgotten. Replaceable. Dispensable.

You kicked again at a tree and a rock. And when that wasn’t satisfying, you kicked a patch of grass.

Excruciating. Pain.

Your vision whited out, momentarily going numb, then refocusing entirely on your leg. Your scream echoed back into your ears.

You had fallen. You wheezed, trying and failing to collect yourself before finally sitting up. Carefully, you moved your leg in front of you to look at the injury. Your teeth tore at your lip to hold back a scream when the movement jolted your leg.

It was a bear trap. The muscle and fat had cushioned most of the blow, but it had cut deep enough to let blood seep into your jeans.

You could still wiggle your toes, which was a good sign. It wasn’t like the movies; they designed bear traps to catch the leg of a bear, not cut it off. But holy hell if it didn’t feel like it had.

You need to push down on the springs. Dean’s voice bounced around in your head.

“Springs…” you muttered. “Okay, okay, springs.” You pressed down on each of the springs with all your might and the trap pried open. You pulled your leg out, releasing the trap altogether and letting it snap onto itself.

With your leg free, you rolled your jeans up so you could assess the damage. You had multiple stabs from where the spikes drove into your skin, and each spike had made about a centimeter long incision into your calf. You had dry blood caked along your leg, so it was hard to see how bad it really was.

Wearing layers as a hunter always came in handy. You ripped a large strip of fabric from your shirt, wrapping it around your leg wound; zipped your jacket closed; and pulled your jeans down over the wound, thankful that they were dark enough to hide the blood stain.

Now, to get help. Sam took the flares, so you pulled out your phone. You could probably call emergency numbers. Except… the Winchesters didn’t need ambulances, cops, or authorities snooping around until this Wendigo thing blew over. You would just be putting more people in danger.

You scrolled through your contacts, muscle memory bringing you to Dean’s number first, since it was alphabetical.

It rang for two beats before something clicked.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You fell back with relief. “Dean, hey, could you pick me up? Your stupid brother left me stranded out here.”

You could almost feel the glare Dean was giving his brother in his voice. “Course, where are you?”

It would probably be smarter if you had him pick you up on the trail, rather than search for you. “Sammy knows where it is. Same stretch of road.”

You could walk back. It wasn’t too far.

“Alright. Be there in a few.” And then he hung up.

You wiped the stray tears from your eyes and prepared yourself. You stood with the help of a tree, teetering. Your leg was painfully tender, and your knees rocked under your weight.

It was possible to walk, sure, and it wasn’t far on two good legs, but you had largely underestimated the effort you were going to need to get there.

You were going to take a helluva long nap when this was all over.

///

When you made it to the road, you took it upon yourself to sit down at a large stump. The day had faded into night, and you could hear the raccoons shrieking.

Finally, the low rumble of the Impala could be heard over the cicadas. You stood, albeit a little wobbly, and somehow walked closer to the road without limping.

Headlights washed over the ground and made long shadows. Dean’s window was rolled down, and his eyes drank you in. Satisfied that you didn’t look too roughed up, he motioned to the back door.

Sam had a tight smile. “Hey, I’m sorry about—”

“It’s cool,” you said. “Seriously. No harm done, I just wanna get back to the motel and shower.” Well, yes harm done, but the shower is the escape. I just need to escape for a little while. The last thing you wanted was the Winchesters getting all freaked.

Dean looked at you a little skeptical. “Forgiven that easy? Dude, if he had done that to me I’d’ve punched him.”

Sam scowled at his brother.

You laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m not one for grudges. I know he didn’t mean it.” Or did he? Then, you went quiet.

Dean was giving you ‘the look’ in the rearview mirror, and you tried not to acknowledge it, but you could tell that he knew something was off. Did you leave blood somewhere?

“You sure you’re okay? You’re kinda pale,” he questioned.

You wanted to retaliate, to shout, Dean, shut up, I’m literally fine. But then he would know. So you shrugged instead. “I’m cool.” You stretched, careful to set your leg somewhere comfortable before resting your head on the window.

The peace didn’t last long. The Impala went over a pothole, jostling your leg and you cursed out loud before you could bite your tongue.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“I’m trying to nap back here,” you snapped. “You’re shakin’ the whole car.”

“My bad.”

You rolled your eyes.

The rest of the ride went fine. Until you had to get out of the car. You swung your leg around, but when you put pressure on it, you nearly fell on your face. Fortunately, you caught yourself, gingerly shifting your weight onto your other leg.

“I knew it. I knew you were hurt,” Dean growled, coming over to haul you up by the shoulder. “Why do you insist on hiding this stuff from us?”

You let him shoulder most of your weight, leaning on him. “Because you baby me!”

“We don’t baby you, we make sure you’re freaking okay, so we don’t screw your injuries up even more. And you’re not really the reliable type,” Dean said, scowling.

He pulled you into the motel a little roughly. He was irate—the upturn of his lips were not a smile, rather, a sneer. Yeah, he was sick of your crap. You didn’t blame him.

He sat himself on the bed across from you, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see it.”

You didn’t move. You needed to explain first. “Dean, before you—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I was—”

He said you name in a low, warning tone.

Welp. You let your shoulders drop, sulking. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“I figured, when you decided not to tell me about it. Show me the damn wound, or so help me—”

“Promise you won’t yell.”

“I’m not making promises I can’t keep.”

That shut you up. You reached down reluctantly. Rolling up your jeans, you brought your eyes to the wall. You didn’t want to see his face. When he was silent for longer than you were comfortable with, you mumbled, “It was a bear trap.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that,” he snapped.

That’s when Sam walked in with the bags. His expression crumpled. He murmured your name in alarm, tossing the bags on the adjacent desk. He looked so disappointed in you. “What the hell? You said you were—”

“I was fine. Cool. Yeah, I know. I lied, okay?” you admitted uncomfortably. “You two are just a bit overwhelming sometimes. I was going to tell you—”

“When? When were you going to tell us?” Dean barked.

You knew Dean loved you and was protective, but sometimes he was so pushy. “I don’t—I was handling it, okay?”

Sam’s expressions shifted into realization. “Hold up, did you walk back to the road?”

Dean analyzed you, and did not like his findings. “She did,” he announced. “She freaking—” he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom.

You sighed, pulling your head into your hands.

Sam shook his head. “The bear trap would have been in the woods, and we picked you up at the road.”

“I took a brief detour, which never would have happened if you hadn’t ditched me!”

Sam snapped his mouth shut.

Dean came out of the bathroom with a med kit. “Lets see how bad this thing is.”
You stuck your leg out on display, wincing as you placed it on the bed.

Dean dug out the alcohol and cotton balls. Right. He had to sterilize the wound.

Not much missed Dean Winchester. He could read your body language pretty dang well. He watched as you stiffened, and his expression softened. He nodded to Sam, who moved to sit beside you on the bed.

You breathed deep, a slow panic setting in, and it hitched as Sam’s hands fell onto your shoulders. “Relax your shoulders”, he said. “It’s going to sting a little, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

Winchesters. In all irony, as much as they left you in the worst freaking moments, they were also there when you needed them afterward.

Or maybe that was just you getting sentimental before Dean agitated a painful wound of yours.

You hissed as he first dabbed the cotton ball onto the lacerations. He wasn’t harsh with it, but he wasn’t gentle, either. His movements had a clinical urgency to them— quick and fluid.

You leaned into Sam’s loose embrace, which tightened a little as you settled yourself.

Dean hummed at his work. “You’re lucky. It worked deep, but it’s nothing that some stitches can’t fix. You’ll have some ugly bruising tomorrow, though.”

That was some good news. You sent them a soft smile. “Thanks, guys. Really. I know I can be a bit… secretive. Sorry for that.”

“We just want you to open up a little more. That’s all we’re asking.”

You huffed a little laugh, then squirmed as Dean drove the needle in for the first stitch. “I wonder who I learned it from.”

Dean drove in the next stitch a little harder.

“Hey! Ow! Okay, okay. I'll… open up.”

“Good.”

Tue, 27 Oct 2020 21:01:09

Chemical Attraction

Dean flashed you a cheesy grin. “You did good out there tonight. Proud of you.” His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, but he still seemed mostly sober.

He was checking out the group of women up at the front of the bar, who wore more revealing clothing than you dared.

You envied their confidence. Sometimes you wished you had the grit to do that stuff.

Dean didn’t fake reluctance to leave you or Sam. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. When he finished his drink, he made his move, leaving the table, and you and Sam with it.

The younger Winchester smiled at you awkwardly. You could tell he wanted to leave as well—he and some girl at the bar had been making googly eyes at each other since he walked in—but was conflicted on leaving you.

“Sam,” you said impatiently. “That girl has been giving you the eyes since we walked in. And don’t think I don’t see you sending them back. If you don’t get up now, I’ll push you over there.”

You were glad that women weren’t assuming you and Sam—or Dean—were together; it made everything much less complicated. Both of the Winchesters were way out of your league. You were more likely the sister they never had.

He was a little surprised, and a little amused by your attitude. “Oh, really?”

“Don’t test me,” you joked.

He laughed, collecting his jacket and walking away.

Your deluding smile fell from your face once you were alone. Bars were usually their choice of festivity, but they mostly just made you uncomfortable.

You were now alone, as both of the boys hit on some chicks and snuck off to get laid. You were used to it. It wasn’t your ideal celebration, but if it made them happy, you’d bear it. You supposed they just assumed your interests matched theirs. Even if all you wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Anyway, the faster the Winchesters both left with broads, the faster you could leave. It was just that simple.

You sipped your whiskey that Dean had paid for. It was strong, and hard to swallow, but in small portions it was tolerable. You appreciated the gift, even if it wasn’t your preferred drink. Dean had a big heart, and you wouldn’t ruin your sweet moments with him because you were feeling picky.

You let your mind wander to a darker place.

You were still coming to terms with hunter life. And from what you’ve gathered, it was cruel, unfair, and thankless.

The Winchesters didn’t sugarcoat it, either. Everything that society looked down upon—the suspiciously cult-ish tattoos, borderline or over-the-line alcoholism (a line you were uncertain where Dean fell), and cheap clothing with leather jackets—was a signature of a hunter’s life. Not to mention the trigger-happy hands, suspicious glares, and their off-putting, dark looks.

It opened your eyes.

That “gothic” girl you saw in your neighborhood? That might have looked like a satanic tattoo, but it was actually an anti-possession tattoo that she got because she was terrified of the demons that wanted to kill her. And those knives in her pocket and backpack? That was for her safety, and probably yours, too.

Or that shady alcoholic up the street? Werewolves brutally murdered his friends, and he has to live with the survivor’s guilt. He drinks while obsessively researching how to hunt them down. Though he’ll likely die of a failing liver before ever taking on the pack.

The point was…

Looks weren’t always transparent.

And, well, you were everything hunters weren’t.

Your pain tolerance was pathetic, for one. Tattoos? Big nope. You hated all things needles, and despite tattoos looking cool, you liked to avoid pain, thanks.

Second, your wardrobe. As if that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

And, last, you were a hopeless lightweight. A few shots and you were tipsy. Dean thought it was hilarious.

Still, you drank your whiskey, feeling guilty that you hated it.

You were tired. It was dark out, and you could already feel the whiskey in your system. You just wanted to go home.

So the last thing you expected that night was for a guy to hit on you. You, feeling unlike yourself—and very drunk—warily flirted back.

He was charming. Thing was, with your buzzing vision, all you noticed were his eyes and handsome smile. You didn’t notice the more important things, like, say… the roofies dissolving in your drink.

Too bad you hadn’t—because you wouldn’t have let him breathe down your neck like he had been… or breathe at all, for that matter.

Your words slurred, and you leaned into him when he stood. “Hey, hey, h-hey, mister. Wheeere ya’ goin’ off to?”

You were smashed.

You didn’t feel too hot, either. You were practically dangling off his shoulders as he helped you from your chair, and your stomach churned. “I don’ feel so guud…” you slurred, keeling over to vomit on the pavement. Huh. You were outside?

You made out two shapes that looked dubiously like him. Albeit one may have very well been a trash can. “Yeeuur kindouf prr…retty.”

He snickered, though you weren’t sure what was so funny. “Just let it sink in,” he said. “It’s okay, babe.”

What was he talking about? You frowned, troubled. “Doe… don'ttt… calmeh that.”

There was only a muddy sense of direction. You fizzled in and out of consciousness, and your memory escaped you.

You were completely at this man’s mercy.

///

You woke up feeling like hell. The lights… the sounds…it was all too loud.

Your head felt like a crushed soda can. You turned—inch by inch—trying to get a view of the entire room, tied up—which, yeah, was a big red flag—and leaned awkwardly against the wall. When you finally saw behind you, you met the eyes of multiple other women in your same predicament.

The previous evening was a haze. Your mind was still catching up with the present, much less the past.

Something in the shadows of the room moved, and you watched as two figures loomed over an unconscious woman covered in dark, bloody bites around her neck and chest.

“Vamps,” you spat. But it came more like “vamffptss” through your gag with a few lisp-y expletives.

They spun around, smiling to themselves. A vampire crouched down to your level, taunting you, “Ah, so there is more to her than a pretty face! Who would have known? Are you a hunter, babe?”

A memory clicked as he said that. You might say it rang a bell—an alarm bell, anyway—but you couldn’t place it. His voice was bouncing around in your head and it was hard to focus.

“Sssgrew you.”

He stood, gave you a smirk, and drove his foot into your abdomen. Hard.

“Wow. I mean, you were a little feisty at the bar, but I never would have envisioned you’d have so much kick.” He winked at you, then turned back to his goonies. “Alright. Ship ‘em. Mark the pretty ones. They’ll be worth more.”

You puffed, still recovering from the harsh blow, as a skinny redhead yanked you up by the ropes. He was watching you like one looks in a microwave at their meal.

You thrashed. It was a weak move, hardly knocking him back on his heels, but it was also a minor triumph.

Then said vampire punched your throat, and all smugness disappeared.

The lead vamp turned to see the commotion and erupted, “Are you kidding me? Christ—get the gag off her, will you?!” When the others looked at him in alarm and skepticism, he barked, “She’s no use to us dead! Do you want her suffocating?”

Carrot Top worked the gag from your aching jaw, and you just laid there, winded, like a dead dog.

The Lead Vamp grabbed the shirt collar of your redhead attacker. “Hey, maybe don’t punch 'em in the throat next time. They’re gonna squirm a little—it’s what they do. So ignore it.”

“Yessir’.”

“Good. And, hey, guys—bag the ugly ones. I got a client for them.”

You coughed, propping yourself up by the elbow. You were concerned. Am I ugly?

The redhead vamp kicked you down by your arm, hissing, “Not you. We got a special guy for you. Likes the fighters.”

You were so tired and weak and helpless. Couldn’t do anything but lay there. You could only watch as the other vamps manhandled poor, terrified women.

“Leeches,” you said, earning you a foot to the face.

“Do yourself a favor and shut up.”

It was hard to not comply. As your head lolled, you spat blood at his feet. You would not go down easy.

He hauled you up, and his punch cracked like a whip.

You stared at his bloody knuckles, feeling your own arms twitch. The ropes were loose. You wondered briefly if you could even run—

Another strike had your vision swimming with stars.

“Hey. I got a question—huff—” You said, taking the punches like a champ and distracting him. “Has anyone ever told you—uff—that you look like—guh—Strawberry Shortcake?”

The ropes worked off your wrists and when he swung, you ducked—or fell, more like—away from his swing. Breathless, you pulled yourself to your feet to run.

The adrenaline was really the only thing keeping you going. Thing was, adrenaline didn’t give you accuracy, it just gave you strength. And little that strength was.

And, woah, was the ground spinning. You gagged as you watched the hallway sway. You were not in any shape to run, but you sure as hell tried to. You stumbled down the hallway, your knees giving out multiple times before you couldn’t pick yourself up again.

The vamp’s yell echoed down the hallway. “You’re not a hunter anymore, little lamb! You’re the hunted!” It probably wouldn’t take much for him to follow the sound of your hummingbird heart.

That was enough encouragement to get anyone on their toes. Even someone who was shaking like a leaf.

Whatever roofie they’d given you, it was enhanced. Everything was so hot and bright and loud. You wished the world could just be quiet. Your heart was beating so loud you could feel it in your teeth.

You clambered to the exit, reaching for the doors to push them open.

Just then, a hand pitched you backward, pulling down on your shoulder. You yelled out, petrified.

“It’s me, it’s just me,” Dean whispered quickly, easing you through the door, around the corner, and to where Baby was parked.

Your heart was still jack hammering in your chest as he pulled you in for a hug. You were high as a kite on adrenaline.

“Been looking all over for you.” The pitch in his voice was more stressed than usual. You were like a little sister to him.

You leaned into his embrace. It was warm and solid and safe. And it was exactly what you needed to ground yourself.

“He drugged me,” you blurted. “He drugged me. I couldn’t—he just—”

He paled. “Did he touch you?” When you paused, his expression darkened. “I’ll rip his lungs out. I’ll kill every single one of them. I'll—”

“He didn’t touch me,” you interrupted. “Not like that.” You rested your forehead against his chest.

“Thank god.”

“But I think they would’ve.” You practically melted as he smoothed your hair down. “They’re human trafficking. Selling women as blood bags.”

Dean turned to Sam, who was leaned up against the Impala, and nodded at him. Sam took that as his cue to go ahead without Dean. “I got Sammy on it right now. You sure you’re alright?”

His arms around you were the only thing keeping you standing. “Just tired. And my head really hurts.” Gunshots went off behind you, and you flinched. Your ears were still sensitive.

“Sounds like nothing a little sleep can’t fix.” Dean patted your back and opened the back of the Impala.

You crawled in and fell asleep before Dean could even pull out of the parking lot.

“Let’s get you home,” he breathed.

Sun, 25 Oct 2020 21:01:06

Follow Your Heart

You tried following your heart, once, as a senior in college with straight A’s, a bright future, a career so close you could almost touch it. You were so close to satisfaction. So close to that diploma.

And all at once, that dream ceased to be. And all you could think was my heart must be very very lost.

It all began on a cloudy Friday evening, you were just about to end your shift with the dogs. It was a tangled mess of leashes when you made it back to the animal shelter. Sweat and dog hair covered you, and after a good shower of puppy kisses, you finally untangled yourself from the mass of dogs and return them to their rightful cages.

You refused to meet their sad eyes. You made that mistake, once, and had spent half an hour reassuring each heartbroken dog that they were, indeed, a good boy.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you promised with a wave and a jangle of your dog whistle, and after a reply of barks, you left the building at dusk.

The road was silent, the street lamps weren’t on yet, and the clouds had become heavier in the sky. You had read in the forecast it was going to rain, but hadn’t expected this.

The tightness in your chest only continued to build as you made it to the campus. The sun was just barely visible behind the storm clouds that had rolled in. The wind had become cool, and the wind had picked up, sending chills up and down your spine.

Perhaps it was just a combination of paranoia and reasonable worry for a woman walking alone at night to her college dorm, except your blood chilled the moment you unlocked your room and entered.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck were on end. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you realized that the window was open, and the harsh breeze was whipping past you.

You laughed it off, feeling silly. Though that night you slept with your cover tight against your chest, back against the wall, and your little silver paring knife under your pillow.

The next day, you experienced the same fear. Except, this time, it was sunny out.

What was triggering these feelings of dread? It was like you couldn’t focus anymore. Everything just felt… itchy. That was the only way you could describe it.

With each day that passed, the source of your terror was slowly revealing itself. Little, weird things that wouldn’t be so noticeable to an outsider, but as someone who valued cleanliness and order, it might as well have been an elephant in the room.

Things were never as you left them. On Sunday morning you couldn’t find your hairbrush. Monday evening, your bed was mysteriously unkempt, even though you’d recalled making it that morning. Tuesday, the caps of your perfume bottles were all off and littered on the floor of your bathroom. Someone had been in your dorm.

You didn’t have a roommate.

You called the police at midnight on Wednesday, and they showed up to your dorm to find you locked in the bathroom. They chalked it up to a wild imagination. You were three floors up, after all. Nobody was breaking in. You were just a stupid, homesick college student.

Right?

Pah, it wasn’t like you were a senior, or anything. Or that you’d ever even cried wolf in the last three years of living alone. But yeah, sure, call it paranoia.

Three weeks later, there was a knock on your front door.

It startled you enough to send you on your ass. You stared at the door from the floor, and it loomed over you like a bad dream.

Your stalker had been your shadow for almost a month at that point. A gaze that burned into the back of your skull, even when there was no one around. You wanted them to keep their distance.

You stood like a whisper, careful not to make any noise as you tiptoed to the peephole of your door. This was it. There would finally be a face to your terror. Someone you could blame.

A weird combination of disappointment and relief washed over you when you saw two FBI agents instead. Your fear of it being your stalker morphed into a fear of the justice system. Had they come to laugh at you just as the police had?

When they knocked a second time, you opened the door.

They showed you their badges and introduced themselves. “Mind if we come in?” Agent Young asked. He had longer, brown hair and kind eyes. You couldn’t hold a gaze with him worth your life.

Strangers in your home, even authorities, made your hackles raise. What the helllllll was all you could think as you welcomed them into your tiny dorm as your legs shook.

A million questions raced around your head at once.

“Could we ask you about the death of your professor? Mr.Cleveland?”

Your heart plummeted and all hope died within you. Oh. This was about that whole freak-show. “What about it?” you said. Your feet shifted.

“Well, it’s said that you were there at the time of his death. Is that true?” Agent Scott asked. He was more intimidating—more rough around the edges—but you supposed he was just professional.

“Um. Uh, yeah. It…” the agents were watching you with intrigue, and you looked to the carpet. “It was horrible.” And it was. It was bloody and scary, and all your fault because you had just stood there—watched as the professor died right in front of you.

Upon seeing your haunted look, Agent Scott spoke a little gentler. “Did you see what happened?”

“I—yeah… I saw it all. He—he had been helping me with something. An essay. I was flunking and he suggested a one on one.” That had only been a week ago. Your grades had suffered as you juggled your classes.
When Mr.Cleveland died… you abandoned college altogether and let the dog whistle collect dust.

“I don’t know… he just…” started dying at your feet. You hadn’t even tried to pick up a phone. You just stood there, and you watched. Your breath picked up. “…he just—”

Agent Young’s voice was sympathetic. “He started coughing up blood?”

“Yeah. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking about…” the stalker, you thought. I couldn’t stop thinking about the stalker. “I froze and, a-and I just watched—”

“Easy, easy. It’s okay. We just need to know the details,” Agent Scott said.

You paused, then. Something didn’t add up. “Wait… why is the FBI interested in a guy that died of a lung disease?” When the agents exchanged glances, you squinted at them, your anxiety briefly replaced with confusion.

“We don’t think it was, erm, lung disease,” Agent Scott said. “We think he might have been…” He searched for the word a little too long for your liking. “…uh, poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” you yelped. “Who could have… oh god, that makes me a suspect, doesn’t it?”

“Unfortunately.”

Your stomach sank, and that anxiety returned. “You guys have to know I wouldn't—I would never—”

“If we thought it was you, you would be in custody,” Agent Scott informed you curtly.

Agent Young frowned at his partner as if to say not helping and then turned back to you. “We just want to know what you saw that day. Anything weird? Strange noises? Smells?” He narrowed his eyes. “Is there anyone you know who would want to kill Mr.Cleveland?”

This was your chance to tell them about your stalker. If there was anyone who could help you, it was the FBI.

Yet you clammed up. "No, not really,“ you blurted. "Nobody I can think of, honest. Not to be rude, but I have finals tomorrow. Could you… leave?”

Who were you kidding, your grades had dropped so low lately that even finals wouldn’t save you. But they didn’t know that.

…probably.

They offered you a trained smile that didn’t reach the eyes. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. If you think of anything else, here’s our card.” And with that they left the room.

The tightness in your chest did not ease.

///

That night, you had dreams of monsters and of evil people that could poison someone and smile. You dreamed of your stalker, and them laughing as you choked on your own blood.

You woke up in a cold sweat, eyes snapping open to the glow of an agape window. It was shut when you fell asleep, but it was open now, blowing in a breeze that chilled your blood.

Your dog whistle was gone.

It was a fear like no other. Your gut was screaming at you to launch for the phone. You did, automatically dialling the number on the business card that laid discarded on the other end of the room. You had memorized it after hours of staring at the numbers, debating whether or not to call them, then ultimately deciding not to with anxiety gnawing away at you.

They answered it on the second ring.

“Hello?” said a gruff voice. Agent Scott.

“I remembered something,” you blurted. “You-you said to call… if I thought of something…” You trailed off when you saw the clock. “Oh god, it’s three in the morning. Maybe this can… this can… this can wait…” It couldn’t wait.

“No, wait. What is it? Might be important if it’s got you up at three in the morning. Unless it’s just finals?”

You shook your head and then realized he couldn’t hear that. “Not finals. Someone’s been stalking me for the past week. I thought… maybe, I was paranoid. I was… constantly told that I was paranoid. But someone was in here while I was asleep. And might… might still be close.”

“Okay, you got a knife?”

“A knife?” You squeaked.

“Yeah. A knife. To defend yourself.”

“Oh. Right. Right, okay. Uh. Well, uh, I have a paring knife?”

“You have… a paring knife,” he repeated.

“Um, yeah? Is that okay? The dorms have rules against big knives. For safety reasons. It’s a silver p—”

“Silver? Okay, you know what? That’s fine. That’s good. Use that. Is it sharp?”

“Sharp enough, I hope.” You ran over to your cabinet, pulling out the knife and holding it to your chest. Your ragged breaths were loud in your ears. “Now what?”

“Well,” he said, and you could hear an engine starting in the background. “We should be there in a few minutes. Stay on the phone, you hear me?”

“I—should I have called 911? This has never happened to me—”

“You’re doing fine. Now, what made you so sure that someone had been in your room?”

“Well, the open window. I live up a few floors. There is no way they could have opened it unless—”

“Unless someone had been in your room. Alright. Just sit tight, okay? Don’t hang up.”

“O-okay.” The agents will be here soon. They will help me. You had the knife and phone held so close to your chest and tight in your fist that your knuckles were white.

I will not die.

Without warning, you choked. It was wet, coppery, and lukewarm on your tongue. You clawed at your neck for air. You fell to your knees. The phone clattered on the wooden floor’; it buzzed with muffled shouting, but you couldn’t pick it up, nor could you answer.

Just then, a massive shadow crawled in from your window, and it grunted like an animal. You barely had enough strength to look at him as trails of red spit hung from your face.

The man had claws. The man had claws. The man—the thing, had—for the love of God, inch long claws.

Down the hallway, there was a muffling of running feet. They would be too late. You realized then: you were probably going to die. You were no fair match.

You could feel the monster’s breath on your neck when the beast abruptly fell down like a sack of potatoes, howling and twisting.

Blindly, you stabbed it in the chest with all your strength, twisting the blade and then collapsing once again into a fit of retching.

The agents burst into the room.

But instead of moving to help you, they tore the room apart in search of something. You couldn’t help but sob in despair. Why weren’t they helping you?

But when Agent Scott whipped out a little bag from your drawer and lit it on fire, the choking miraculously ceased.

You melted into the floor to catch your breath again. For a minute everyone just breathed. You really appreciated the minor break.

Agent Young helped you up, closely inspecting your heavy, slightly bloody, zoned-out face, and decided you were okay.

You licked your lips, still not processing any part of the last hour. “What,” you said, “just happened.”

The agents exchanged looks.

You looked at them. Really looked at them. “You’re not FBI, are you?”

Agent Scott shrugged at his partner. “You gonna give her the talk, Sammy, or should I?”

///

“Were-witches,” you deadpanned. Monsters, hunters, hex bags, and were-witches.

“Yep,” Agent Scott—or Dean Winchester, you were now learning—said. “He probably got a whiff of you covered in dog hair or something. You’re lucky we got here in time. The pervert was, I kid you not, jellifying human hearts with dark magic. Like, alive. And then he’d make you regurgitate—” He caught the hard look from Agent Young—Sam—and shut up. “But, yeah. Were-witches.”

You frowned. “I can accept witches and werewolves, but… were-witches? For real?”

“Trust me, we didn’t know they existed either,” Sam informed you.

Dean laughed to himself. “Hey Sammy, should we call him a son of a witch or a son of a bi—” His smile faltered with both Sam and your glaring. “Get it? Witch jokes? Dog jokes? Sheesh, okay, you guys are seriously no fun.”

Sam sighed. “We should probably take the, um, dead werewitch, out of here.”

You followed his eyes to the heap of fur on your floor. Seeing your stalker dead was a major weight off your shoulders. It was such a relief that you felt high.

Sam was still talking. “—and you have finals?”

You sobered. “Right. Those.” Like you would do anything except bomb them.

Sam must have known the look. “You haven’t studied, have you? At all.”

Shaking your head, you slumped into the mattress. “Nope. This stalker thing screwed me up big time. There’s just no way.” You sighed. Sam’s dark look made you squint at him. “What?”

“I just, uh, know the feeling,” Sam said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “I got a free ride to law school before the hunting life took me away. I was already a hunter, I didn’t have a choice. But you still do. You can still have that life you want.” He tapped the card, still on the desk from his last visit. “Stay out of trouble and call us whenever. Especially if it’s three in the morning.”

Right then, you noticed the dog whistle was back, as if it had never left.
Realization hit you like a brick to the head. “You did that! You blew the whistle.”

“Yeah, well, I knew it was a werewolf. So I took a gamble and… borrowed it. Guess I didn’t think you’d miss it—it was pretty dusty.”

“You stole my whistle!”

“Hey, no, I borrowed it—”

“You gave me a heart attack! I thought the werewitch had stolen it! That’s what set me off and made me call you—not the window!”

Dean cracked a smile. “Hey, it saved you, though, yeah? If I hadn’t taken it, who’s to say I could have saved your damsel ass?”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean said automatically.

You blinked in surprise at the speed of his reply.

His eyes widened. “Sorry. That's… uh, Sam usually says that and I respond with…”

You laughed. Really laughed. You doubled over, struggling to breathe for the second time today, but this time it was welcome. The Winchesters inevitably joined in as you howled. You wiped away your tears of laughter, occasionally breaking into a smaller fit.

“You good?” Dean asked, grinning,

You sighed, the hysteria wearing off. “God, it wasn’t even that funny! You just caught me by surprise. Thanks, though. For saving me, and all.”

Dean smiled, patting you on the back. “No problem, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence. You were still trying to calm down as they watched you with looks of fondness.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” Sam asked.

You knew what he meant: were you going to be able to sleep alone? And honestly, you had a feeling you would sleep like a baby tonight. However, you had no purpose staying here anymore. “Would I be stepping too far if I asked to come with you? Just for the night.”

“Of course.”

@pixie88~~@mollylikethedrugright~~@leigh70~~@musicalmuffindog1410~~@deanwanddamons@cosicas-cuquis@squirrelnotsam@waywardbaby@sexyvixen7@snowlovespie@deanandsamsbitch@jennifromtheblock1013@flamencodiva@deanwinchesterswitch@mariekoukie6661@mylifeas-alex~~@georgieslostboat92~~@winchest09@verytoadpapersoul@kuntxrgraudunkelbunt@janicho88@smellingofpoetry@supernaturalvikingwhore@supernaturalharry@notyourtypicalrose@reds-protege@fandoms-fiend@treat-winchesterswith-kindness@traceyaudette@foxyjwls007@lyarr24@michellethetvaddict@jensendreamland@drakelover78@deandaydreaming@sandlee44@valsworldofcreativity@bluecornflowers@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel@440mxs-wife@spnfamily-j2@thoughts-and-funnies@cpag7@alwayskeepfightingsweetheart@peachyafshawn@spnbaby-67@outofnowhere82@dothesetacostastefunny2u@lunarmoon8@maliburenee@siospins2@mariecrystalstar@perpetualabsurdity@gabavaldman@riversong-sam@fallwhisper@deandreamernp@stoneyggirl@stoneyggirl2@mrswhozeewhatsis@mimaria420@laycblack@redbarn1995@siospins2@wickedinspirations@akshi8278@fantasy-myth1@the-jer-bear@artemys-ackles@xhannahbananax03@missannwinchester@sacriceria@blueeyedchaos

Sat, 24 Oct 2020 21:00:40

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is thirty-eight and the stepdad of her best friend Ben. He’s caring, goofy, dorky, sexy and has a deep soothing voice. She wants him so bad, but he is more than a decade older than her. The thing is, she knows he wants her too but he’s holding himself back. How far can she take it until he caves?
— Or the one where Dean tries to resist but fails miserably.

Chapter Warnings: NSFW…the filth continues. Slight angst too, because Dean’s feelings are all over the place - but hers are too, so.

WC:3,374

Series beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons

This series is COMPLETE on Patreon

If you like what I’m writing, please consider leaving me a tip to keep me energized.

Series Masterlist~SPN Masterlist

Dean hums. He feels a tingle traveling up his spine, a sensation that makes his toe curl in the best possible way. He blinks his eyes open, and looks down at what causes the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He blinks again, eyelids opening and closing in quick succession, head shaking slightly because he just can’t fucking believe what he sees.

Between his thighs, Y/N looks up at him with hooded lids. The fingers of one of her hands are wrapped around his rigid shaft, pumping it up and down while she licks and sucks at his balls.

Fuck.

Suddenly, last night’s shenanigans come flooding into his brain, and he’s well aware that they’re both butt naked. After the incredible sex, they got into the shower to clean themselves up, but he ended up eating her out under the warm spray and took her a second time, fucking her right against the shower tiles. He cleaned her up again once they found their way back into bed, licked at her sensitive cunt until she came on his tongue, and begged for him to stop.

Dean’s dick twitches in her grip when he thinks back. Now that he’s had a taste, he definitely cannot get enough of her, and it makes hope bloom in his heart to know that she seems to be thinking the same.

“Y/N, baby,” he croaks out, sucking in a breath as she licks up his shaft and swirls her tongue around the head of his dick, tongue dipping into the oozing slit. “Fuuuuuck, you’re insatiable.”

“Mmmh,” she hums with her mouth full of his cock, bobbing her head up and down before she sucks at the tip. She hollows out her mouth, letting his dick bounce out with a pop before licking her lip and fucking smiles.

Shit. He’s so fucking gone on her.

“You love it,” Y/N says, pumping his cock with her hand before gripping it at the base then opening her mouth to slap it against her outstretched tongue.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls. “Of course I love it.” Because I love you. He wants to add, but doesn’t. “Look at you, fucking naughty girl, baby. Sucking me off when I’m still sleeping. Can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” She swallows him down again, causing him to choke on his own saliva. Dean bucks his hips involuntarily, driving his dick further into her warm and wet mouth, making her gag around his girth.

Y/N pulls away then, coughing but she’s right on him again, bobbing her head while she cradles his sac between her nimble fingers, massaging them gently.

“Come up here,” he gestures with his hands, and she lets go of him with another pop before brushing away the drool around her mouth with the back of her hand. Her other hand is still pumping his dick steadily, and as soon as she’s in reach, Dean pulls her closer and kisses her roughly, tongue infiltrating her mouth, sucking his own taste off her lips. “Straddle my chest backwards,” he commands. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes when she registers what he wants to do. Hell, he’s hungry for her pussy too.

Y/N throws her legs over his torso, and soon enough her mouth is back on his cock, slurping up the excess drool that’s running down his shaft.

“Back up, baby, wanna have my breakfast too.”

She hums around his dick, knees shuffling back cautiously until his nose bumps against her soaking slit. Dean inhales deeply, groaning as the scent of her arousal hits him. His mouth waters at the sight.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

“Mmmhh,” she hums in response.

“All this from sucking my cock?” His fingers start to massage her tiny bud before dipping into her entrance. She’s so fucking wet, it’s the fucking best thing ever.

She’s bobbing her head, impaling her face on his thick cock, the gluck gluck sound loud in the room as the tip of his dick hits the back of her throat. Dean’s working his tongue too, swiping it through her slit, sucking the little bundle of nerves into his mouth and tickling it with the tip of his tongue while two of his fingers find their way inside her slick heat. Y/N becomes so much wetter now, her arousal running down from his fingers to his wrist.

He gets her to moan when he hits a particularly good spot inside her. Dean rubs at it, humming with his mouth full of her pussy. It’s not the best position to eat her out, but god, it’s still so fucking good.

“Come, Y/N, I want you to come all over my face,” he rasps, head surging forward again to suck at her clit while he still finger fucks her.

There’s a squeal when she comes, pausing briefly to catch her breath from sucking him off while her cunt contracts around his fingers and her juice practically drips down onto his face. He eagerly laps at her pussy, pulls his fingers out to be able to drink her in properly.

“Fuck,” she giggles after she’s come, starts to spread little kisses up and down his shaft. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?” He smacks his lips before licking them clean.

“Yeah.”

And then she’s already back around his dick, going down on him so deep his balls draw up from sheer pressure.

“Holy– fuck, Y/N!” His hand shoots down to the nape of her neck, pinning her down while he thrusts his hips up to get her to take him deeper and stays there for a couple of seconds. “God, you’re going to make me come, baby.”

There’s resistance against his palm and Dean lets her come up for air, his other hand still rubbing lazy circles around her clit, thumb dipping into her pussy occasionally. It gets her to mewl so sweet, it certainly keeps him going.

“Come, Dean, wanna taste you,” she breathes airily, before swallowing him down again. Y/N takes him so deep, her throat making a sound every time he hits it.

Fuck, he didn’t really need an invitation to do it but hearing those dirty words coming out of her mouth makes him shudder. He growls deep when he comes, pushes his hips up in order to be able to bury his dick as far inside her mouth as it would go while spilling hotly into her throat. “Oh, fucking fuck!” He curses while his hips spasm. His thighs are trembling, and he swears he sees fucking stars.

She coughs when she pulls away and then she climbs off him, sits up and brushes at the tears at the corner of her eyes. She’s still smiling, though, and he really would love to take a picture of her right now, so debauched and awfully sexy – it nearly gets him going again. It’s like his dick didn’t get the memo that he’s not a fucking teenager anymore.

Sitting up on her knees, she scoots up to him, and as soon as she’s close enough, Dean pulls her in for a heated kiss. His taste is strong on her tongue, which doesn’t really bother him at all because, under all these layers of his heady taste, there’s still something that’s just… her, and that’s what he’s after, chasing the taste in her mouth and sucking it off her tongue.

Y/N giggles when he starts to kiss down her neck, his stubble probably tickles her. “Dean.”

“Hhm?” He whispers against the skin he’s nibbling at.

“I have an interview at nine.”

His eyes widen at that, “Shit, what time is it?”

In their haste, he has forgotten to set his alarm but judging by the light filtering through his windows, it’s past his usual waking up time.

“It’s almost eight.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles against her skin and can’t resist sucking at her flesh one more time.

“That’d be nice, but not now.” She laughs softly before pushing away from him in order to get off the bed. Y/N picks up her clothes strewn across the floor, and Dean enjoys the view. “I’ll be home around lunch time,” she says before slipping out of the door, leaving him to process what happened during the last twenty-four hours.

Groaning, he rubs his hands over his face, the heady scent of her still clinging to his fingers. Shit. He just fucked his son’s girlfriend. There’s probably a special place in hell for him. Especially because he doesn’t regret it, and he’s absolutely not opposed to doing it again. Doing her again. And again. And again.

With a grunt, Dean pushes himself off the bed and gets into the shower. He should get going too, he’s sure Benny will give him an earful if he is late.

“I’m taking half a day off,” is what Dean greets his employee with as soon as he arrives at work just in time for Benny’s third coffee break.

The other man eyes him suspiciously while taking a sip from his mug. He swallows before he speaks. “You okay, brother? You sick or somethin’?”

Dean draws his head back, blinks in confusion, “What?”

Benny shrugs, “You never take days off.”

“Yeah, well, I need half a day today.”

“Why?”

He thinks about Y/N, how he really wanted to spend more time with her, thinks about her smile and her laugh, and her fucking tits and her tight pussy and her—

“—You’re smirking.” His friend interrupts Dean’s thoughts rather abruptly. It aggravates him a little.

“Shut up,” he grumbles and pushes past his friend into his office.

Y/N is standing at the stove when Dean arrives home just after 1 PM. She’s still wearing a white blouse which is neatly tucked into her black pencil skirt while her feet are bare, her heels abandoned by the door. The outfit is probably her interview attire, and fuck, if he would have to interview her, he would not be able to concentrate.

The senses are coming back to him in a rush. There’s the smell of something delicious lingering in the air. He really, really could eat her alive.

She’s stirring a wooden spoon around in a big pot before scooping up a little of what she’s cooked then bringing it to her lips for a taste. Humming contently, she abandons the spoon on the top of the pot and washes her hands before drying them off on the dishtowel.

When she’s turning around and notices him, she smiles. “Hey.”

Dean cannot quite speak yet, he’s too overwhelmed by the sight, the smell, and the fucking view.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made chili,” she goes on, wringing her hands in front of her.

Fuck it. Seriously. Fuck. It. He came home with the intention to talk to her first, desperate to know where he stands and where they will go from here. Because he’s still a decent man, a dick most of the time, but still decent. However, he was not prepared to come home to her like this, so yeah— fuck it.

He crosses the distance between them in no time, and is thankful that she made chili, because at least that can be left to stew on the stove for quite a while. He’s not ready to eat yet.

Cradling her face between his big palms, Dean presses his lips to hers, kisses her with a certain want and a need he rarely feels in himself. His one hand goes back to the nape of her neck in order to angle her better, to be able to press her closer to him. Her hands fist in his shirt before they go lower, and suddenly, he feels her fingers brushing against his bare stomach, having sneaked them under his clothing. She goes further down, nails scraping at the elastic of his underwear until she can slip inside and wrap her hand around his growing cock.

He bites down on her lips at the touch, causing her to gasp into his mouth. Dean sucks the lip in to soothe the pain before pulling away slightly. He leaves his forehead pressed to hers, both of them breathing hard.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he shudders, when her thumb brushes over the slit on the tip of his cock, the finger of one of his free hands trailing down her blouse until he rubs at the peaking nipples through her shirt. “Can the food wait?”

She grins when she bites down on her bottom lip, “Yeah, it can wait.”

Immediately, he kisses her again and she walks him backwards, pushing him out of the kitchen until they’re in the hallway, her hand still steadily pumping him.

Dean growls before pinning her to the wall right by the stairs. Jesus, he’s too fucking impatient. With one quick turn, he has her chest pressed against the wall while his forearm is holding her in place. His other hand makes quick work of her skirt, fingers finding the clothing, gripping it tight, and pulling it up her pretty ass until it’s bunched around her waist. He drops his hand to her pussy, grunts when he finds no barrier.

“Fuck, Y/N, no underwear?”

“No.”

His palm connects with the skin of her ass cheek, causing her to gasp at the sharp sting. “Fucking naughty girl.”

“Uh-huh,” she breathes out, arching her back to wriggle her ass against his bulge.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?”

Dean chuckles when he leans closer, grinding his dick against her ass some more, making her feel exactly how hard she makes him. Make her feel how much he fucking wants her. “Fucking tease.” He slaps down on her luscious bottom once more before his hand finds a way in between her thighs, brushing his fingers along her soaked slit.

“You love it,” she gasps when he rubs circles around her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Damn right, I do.”

Pulling his hand away, he hears her whimper. It makes him chuckle again. Stepping back a foot, he works on his pants and lowers them enough to release his hard cock with one hand while he still has her pinned with his other arm. Spitting into his hand, Dean pumps himself a couple of times before he holds his dick by the base and steps closer to her again, sliding the tip of his cock through her slick pussy.

She moans, “Dean.”

“I got you, baby.”

On his third slide through the mess of her juices, his dick catches at her entrance, and Dean pushes in, working himself inside her slick heat, going as deep as her body would allow him, up until his pelvis is pressed against the soft of her cheeks. They both release a groan at the same time once he’s sheathed.

“Fuck,” he lowers his lip to her neck, sprays kisses all over the skin that’s exposed to him while he starts to pump his hips slow but deep. “Miss this. Missed you. Could only think about you.”

Was that too much? Too soon? He can’t really bring himself to care. His head is in the fucking clouds.

“Mmh,” Y/N hums contently, arching her back to give him better access. She really is a fucking dream.

He catches her earlobe between his teeth, nibbles lightly at it as she mewls and backs up against him. Dean groans when his dick hits even deeper. “Fuck, baby. Could live in this tight pussy, never want to stop fucking you.”

“Then don’t,” she breathes out. “Please don’t stop.”

Dean chuckles when he places a kiss just below her ear. Then he pulls out. The loss pains him terribly.

With one swift tug at her waist, he has her turned around before hitching up her one leg around his waist, “Jump,” he commands, arms already in the position to catch her.

There’s a hint of a grin tugging at her lips before she hops into his arms. Dean’s quick to slide his dick back into her tight heat, groaning and dropping his forehead onto her shoulder at the snug feel around him. He’s not lying when he says he never wants to stop doing that. Fuck.

“Hold tight,” he whispers once he regains at least a bit of his composure, his one arm supporting her ass, kneading it a little, for good measure, while his other hand is holding his pants up before he proceeds to walk up the stairs and into his room. It’s a tough task, because she’s an impatient little minx who’s grinding on his dick while her lips attack his neck. Dean has to stop halfway up for a brief moment – fucking distracting is what she is. But honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

She’s lying next to him, all blissed out and sated. He doesn’t fare any better after their session. Her head is pillowed on his chest, her damp hair sticking out and tickling his face. Y/N’s fingers trace lazy circles around his nipple and Dean flinches every time she gets too close, which earns him a giggle because she obviously thinks it’s so fucking funny that he’s sensitive there. He brushes the pads of his fingers up and down her spine, and he thinks he could fall asleep like this. Would give a lot to be able to fall asleep like this and wake up to her next to him for the rest of his life. But he knows that reality will come crashing soon. Way too soon.

And when Y/N opens her mouth to speak, he realizes just really how soon it’ll be.

“I got the job today.”

“Oh? Already?” He says, tilting his head to look into her warm eyes and see her face. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s glowing. “Congratulations.” Dean leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Yeah. It was the second interview, actually,” she pauses to swallow, “It’s just…” Y/N trails off, nails still circling around his nipples, “the job’s in New York.”

“Oh,” Dean huffs.

“Basically, I have two options. Either take the job or go to grad school here.”

“What do you want to do more?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “the job is a good one, and the pay is okay, I guess. They said I have a bright future at their magazine if I chose them they have already offered me a chance of promotion if I prove myself in the first six months. I could make a difference there, could work my way up. But grad school is good too, although, with the school, I don’t really know what comes after. New York sounds more adventurous, though.”

He’s not entirely sure what she wants to hear him say. Does he want her to go? Absolutely not. But who is he to hold her back? She’s still so young and she literally has her whole life still ahead of her. He can’t possibly be selfish and deny her of a great career and future. Besides, who is he to give her advice, he’s not even her boyfriend. Shouldn’t Ben have a say in this?

Stay, is what he really wants to say, but instead, he clears his throat, and then, “If your heart says it wants the job, you should go. New York’s a great opportunity. Sammy, my brother, is there too.”

She tenses next to him and he can feel her body go rigid in his arm. It feels like she’s been holding her breath because there’s an eternity of silence with nothing but the sound of the beating of his heart in his ears. Y/N lifts herself off him, her eyes fixed on his face as if she’s looking for something. Dean doesn’t know what she’s searching for.

“Okay,” she says, her voice meek. And then she rolls away from him. “I have to– uh, I need a moment to think about all of it.”

Dean lifts himself on his forearms, watching her hastily picking up her clothes off the floor, “What about the food?”

“You can go ahead, I’m not hungry,” Y/N says in passing as she walks to the door, not sparing him a glance. The door closes behind her and Dean has no fucking clue what’s happening.

..To Be Continued

Pleaseshare your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#instant attraction #dean winchester #dean winchsester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean x you #nathalie writes

@smol-and-grumpy

Mon, 09 May 2022 13:15:26

SPN Rock Flash Fic: Meant for Loving You

Summary:A case at a strip club, a striptease, and a little fun
Pairing:Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester x Reader
A/N:This was written for @deanwanddamons Rock SPN Flash Fan Fic Challenge 3. I got the song “I Was Made For Loving You” by Kiss. This was by far the hardest thing I had to do, to write without any description, and I just might rewrite this to include a more detailed story AND the smut.
Word Count: 495 (HA! I did it! UNDER 500!)

Y/N put on a final coat of red lipstick and adjusted her corset one final time. She smirked at her reflection as she checked out her own ass in the mirror. She might not be the skinniest or fittest girl around, but damn, if she didn’t feel hot in her stripper get up. She stepped away and headed toward the stage.

Glancing through the curtain, she noticed Dean sitting at a table near the stage with Sam next to him, facing the back . When she told the boys about a case in a strip club, Dean agreed before she could finish telling him about it. They agreed to meet her at the club in Fairfax and arrived much quicker than she anticipated.

“You sure you’re good to go on, Y/N?” Kathy asked. The old woman looked at the stage in concern. “Lost four girls to the monster creeping about, each just after dancing center stage,” Y/N smirked as she turned away from the curtains.

“My backup is waiting in the audience, Kathy. Neither of them are expecting me to take the stage which should make this a hell of a lot of fun,” Y/N said, hearing her music start. Kathy shook her head.

“You shouldn’t be using yourself as bait,” she retorted. With a fluff of her hair and a wink, Y/N threw open the curtains.

“No better way to make them want to keep their eyes on me.”

—————-

“You see Y/N anywhere yet?” Dean asked Sam, glancing around the stage curiously. He threw a flirty smile to the scantily clad waitress setting down his whiskey. Sam shook his head.

“No, not yet. She said she’d be here and we’d not be able to miss her,” he said.

“Alright, go over it again.”

“Four girls have gone missing after dancing center stage. Some kind of creature steals them away…” the beginning notes of Kiss’ I Was Made For Loving You interrupt Sam’s review and they turn to the stage as the lights dim. Their eyes widen as they see Y/N burst through the curtain, stalking down the stage with a purpose.

“Holy shit…” Sam mutters.

Y/N’s fingers drag up her sides sensuously, tracing over her curves before moving up to her neck and up into her hair, gathering it up to the top of her head. She flipped it around as she got to the pole in the center of the stage, wrapping her hand and one leg around it, swinging herself around sexily. She then dropped to her knees in front of the boys, legs open wide, lip between her teeth.

“Fuck me…” Dean said with a sigh.

Dean’s mouth was dropped open as he watched Y/N rip open the corset and reveal the strappy bra underneath, drop to her hands and knees, and crawl over to the brothers.

“Monster is over there, boys. Take care of him and I’ll give you a more x-rated private show,” she said with a wink.

@deandreamernp
@siospins
@sacriceria
@sexyvixen7
@lanea-1
@nancymcl

Sat, 06 Nov 2021 20:13:41

The Men who Hunted Her - DeanxReader

Title – The Men Who Hunted Her
Pairings – DeanxY/N, Sam and Y/N friendship
Word Count – 5,453
Warnings – Violence, non-con, cursing, being drugged
SPNMixedBingo Square filled – Kidnapping

“Who’s calling you at this hour?” Sam questioned, looking up from his laptop. Dean picked up his phone and looked at the caller ID. He saw the name across the screen and rolled his eyes.

“Fucking Y/N,” he growled savagely. Sam instantly frowned.

When Dean and Y/N got together, Sam was nervous. It was like watching fire and gasoline join and when it was good, they were quite the pair to watch. They were an unbeatable force on the hunt or in the bar, and the unbridled passion they had for each other was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

But when they fought, it was just as bad. The hoarse shouting, the uncontrollable fury, sometimes even the thrown punches. There were things said that was downright unforgivable to many but for them, it was just who they were. They were as furious as they were passionate.

The last fight between Dean and Y/N was a vicious one. The screaming went on for hours. It got to the point where they didn’t even know what they were fighting about anymore. Sam didn’t know what they were fighting about anymore. And when Dean bluntly told her to get out, she left without saying a word. That was weeks ago. Sam and Y/N kept in touch behind Dean’s back, but Dean was miserable. He knew Dean regretted throwing Y/N out of the bunker, but his stubborn pride was in the way of asking her to come back.

The radio silence between Dean and Y/N had been hard on Sam, but at least Y/N was still speaking to him. Or was until four days ago. That’s when she went off the radar. If she was calling now and calling Dean, something was wrong. Before he could say so, Dean already had the phone to his ear.

“The fuck do you want?” he growled fiercely into the phone.

“Don’t hang up!” Y/N’s whispered voice begged as soon as he picked up the call. “Please, please, pleasedon’t hang up!”

“Y/N?” Dean asked, evident anger vanishing instantly. Her hushed begging suddenly confused him.

“Please,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “I know you’re mad at me, but please don’t hang up. Please. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know who else to call. Please don’t hang up. Please.”

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. Talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Dean asked worriedly. Sam stood up and walked closer to his brother so he could hear the call. Something was most certainly wrong. “Baby, slow down, I can’t understand you.”

“… grabbed me from behind, I didn’t even see them…supposed to be hunting a ghoul…hit me in the head, knocked me unconscious,” Y/N got out between strangled sobs. Dean stood up and promptly went for his keys; Sam followed closely behind, grabbing his laptop along the way.

“Who has you? Who are they?” he demanded impatiently.

“I don’t know… I don’t… They keep drugging me…” Y/N said, trailing off.

“Baby, I need you to take a deep breath for me,” Dean said desperately. Y/N nodded despite Dean not being able to see her.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered fearfully, wearily leaning her head into the heel of her palm.

“Y/N, listen to me. Where are you?” Dean asked forcefully.

“I don’t know! I don’t know where I am!” she sobbed. “They had me in the trunk when they brought me here! I… I was able to… to fight… to hide… I knocked one of them out… I grabbed his cell phone, and I’m hiding, but they are looking for me… They…”

Y/N’s anxious voice was cut off when a loud banging was heard along with two or three male voices shouting furiously. Y/N covered her mouth to muffle the harsh sound of her breathing, making herself as small and as quiet as she could. She hugged the cell phone to her chest to hide the light as well. After a few minutes, the sound went away, and she pulled the phone back to her ear only to hear Dean shouting for her.

“De….” Y/N whispered. The profound relief Sam saw in Dean’s face when he heard Y/N’s whisper would be something he’d remember forever.

“How many are there?” Sam asked eagerly when Dean couldn’t speak.

“Five…. No, si…six. six of them,” Y/N whispered. Sam cursed under his breath.

“Well, that’s how they got her. No way she can take on six guys by herself. Y/N… Are you on a cell phone?” Sam asked while Dean gathered his raw emotions together.

“Ye… yeah. I stole it from one of them… I had to get to you… I had to get help…” Y/N said quietly. Sam nodded.

“Do you remember how to turn on the GPS?” Sam asked, flipping his laptop open.

“Ye…yeah,” she answered. Within minutes, Sam saw the blip show up on the screen.

“Perfect. We have it. Keep the phone with you, okay? We’re coming.”

“There you are!” an agitated voice bellowed behind her as she slipped out of the cracked window. Wide eyes looked back, and she dropped just as a gun went off above her head. Without wasting any time, Y/N took off running through the long grass and into the trees that surrounded what she now saw was a cabin inside the woods.

“Did you get her, Jackie?” a rough male voice frantically asked. A third male cursed as he saw her running in between trees.

“Bitch is in the woods. We got to stop her before someone finds her and she starts talking,” a younger male voice said. A sinister laugh echoed in the opening.

“Butch! Mikey! Marlo! Gear up! Looks like we’re going hunting…”

“Keep going straight, then at the third left, take it,” Sam said. His eyes kept bouncing between the map in his hands and the blip on the screen in front of him. They had been driving for roughly 45 minutes, and they were already out of Kansas and into Oklahoma. Dean was going 20 over the speed limit just to get to her as fast as possible.

“I never should have thrown her out,” he muttered fiercely under his breath, gently shaking his head. Sam dared an apprehensive glance up at his older brother, taking in the clenched jaw and the raw emotion he normally saw hidden from his eyes.

“You didn’t know this was going to happen, Dean,” Sam commented quietly. Dean’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“If anything happens to her, I will never forgive myself,” Dean growled furiously.

“We’re gonna find her, and we’re gonna destroy the assholes who took her,” Sam said, his voice so dangerous Dean had to glance at him.

“Damn straight.”

Y/N ran as fast as her bare feet would let her go on the floor of the woods. She ignored the torn skin and puncture wounds she was getting from the sticks and stones stepped on along the way. She used her arms to help launch herself over a dead tree that had fallen and continued running. Having not eaten in over a week, she had no idea where the energy was coming from, but she knew she couldn’t stop.

If she stopped, she’d inevitably die.

She heard an apparent gunshot in the distance and paused her running to look around at her surroundings. Nothing looked familiar; it was all trees and underbrush. Y/N nervously looked at the phone and was relieved to see it still had service. She couldn’t be that far from modern civilization if the mobile phone had service.

The faint sounds of someone shouting met her ears. She darted a look behind her in fear then started looking for something she could use as a weapon. Spotting a length of wood, she followed it with her eyes to see it was embedded into the carcass of a dead animal. Moving carefully, she slid over to it and pulled the old arrow out of the decaying corpse. Thankfully, the flinty tip was still sharp. Breaking the used arrow in half, she tossed the worthless half aside.

Then she climbed up the closest tree and hid.

“Splitting up was a bad idea, Jackie,” the rough voice of Marlo grunted out. He held the double-barrel loosely in his hands and frowned as he walked by the trampled ferns, kicking at them as he went.

“Oh, shut up, Marlo. If you can’t take down one bitch, then there’s something wrong with you,” Jack said, using his pistol as an extension of his arm to lift up some low-hanging branches out of his way. Jack bristled at the direct insult.

“It ain’t that and you know it! This ain’t just some bitch!” Marlo growled. “This a hunter! An’ she ain’t all drugged up like you been keepin’ her!”

“Whatever, man, she’s just like the rest of them. Just a toy we can dispose of when we’re done with her,” Jack said gleefully, looking back at Marlo with a lewd grin. When Jack turned back around to face front, Y/N dropped down on his plump shoulders and brutally stabbed the arrow into his throat.

Marlo shouted frantically in surprise as he watched blood spurt from the ragged wound in Jack’s throat, the two tumbling to the ground. Y/N snatched up Jack’s pistol and raised it, but Marlo was faster, shooting off a round from his shotgun.

Buckshot scattered and Y/N cried out as some of it embedded itself into her battered body. As Marlo racked another shot ready, Y/N fired off two shots of her own. The hoarse cries from the burly man in front of her echoed off the trees. Somehow, he was still standing. Shoving Jack’s now dead body away from her, she got herself in a better position and with wide eyes on the wounded man, she fired again. She hit her mark as Marlo’s body dropped hard onto the wooded ground.

Panting hard, Y/N remained frozen, listening anxiously for any sounds of the other men who were after her. Hearing nothing, she slowly stood up, a sore arm covering her chest. Little red spots started to show up across her dirty white shirt from the buckshot that caught her. She hissed as she moved, looking down at herself to see at least six spots where there was now embedded metal in her skin.

“Dammit,” she muttered savagely.

Moving gingerly over to where Marlo lay, she pulled the shotgun toward her and patted down his shallow pockets for more ammo. She was able to find six more shells. With shaking hands, she slid them into the pocket of her now torn and stained jeans before turning away. Making her way back to where Jack lay, she dug around in his pockets next. Nothing.

Y/N took a moment to swallow back the abject despair threatening to overwhelm her. She was aching all over, desperately tired, hungry, so very thirsty, and four of her captors were still in the woods looking for her. She pulled the phone out of her back pocket. Still had four bars of service, still transmitting the information. Shoving it back into her pocket, she stood uneasily from her crouched position and heaved a sigh.

“Where are you, Dean?”

“We’re close. Turn into this park,” Sam said, pointing to a side road on the left. Dean took the turn at speed, leaving tread marks on the road behind them. The brothers looked around carefully at the drive, noting the hunting lodge motif that seemed to engulf the area.

“They took her to a hunting ground, where no one would be bothered by the sounds of gunfire,” Dean growled impatiently. Sam opened the glove box and started digging through their fake IDs until he found their Ranger ones as Dean proceeded up to the security stop. Handing Dean his, Sam took control of the worsening situation to cover for Dean’s uncontrolled rage.

“Evening, boys. Can I help you?” the security officer politely asked. Sam lifted his ID, nudging Dean to do the same.

“Yes, Sir, we’re looking for a group of men who may be staying on your property who may be hunting outside the limits set for the active season. Tell me, have you seen any groups of say five or six men come in and rent out a private cabin?” Sam asked. The officer frowned slightly, turning to pull a clipboard off the side of the wall of his hut.

“Well, Ranger, now that you mention it… We did have a group of six guys coming up here in the middle of the night about four or five days ago. Thought it was odd they came in so late. A couple of them were acting kind of nervous, constantly looking over their shoulder and whatnot,” the officer said. Sam nodded and glanced stealthily at Dean, undoubtedly noticing his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, those might be our guys. What cabin are they in? We’re going to pay them a surprise visit,” he asked. The officer flipped up the papers and read the paperwork in hand.

“Looks like they are staying at the Ravenwood Cabin. It’s the one that’s farthest back in the woods. Just follow the yellow trail all the way to the back, and then the black diamonds to get to the drive,” he said, promptly handing the boys a map. Sam took it and nodded.

“Thanks, Officer…” he started.

“Thoroughbred. Good luck in there, and be safe,” he said, punching a button to lift the gate. Dean forced himself to drive slowly through the gate but once he was out of sight of the security office, he picked up speed.

“Of course, they would pick the cabin farthest out,” Dean ground out through gritted teeth. Sam glanced at his laptop and saw the red dot had stopped moving. He compared it to where they were, then looked up and pointed eagerly.

“Keep going straight and keep your ears open.”

Y/N limped to a stop and leaned back against an overgrown tree, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the stolen cell phone. She was down to two bars of service. She prayed it was enough to send out a GPS signal to Sam. She stuffed the cell back into her pocket and looked down at her feet. They were torn up, bleeding heavily in some places. If those guys who took her had dogs, they would certainly be able to find her. She had to keep moving.

She desperately needed a break, though. Y/N was exhausted, and her last bit of energy was tapped. She could feel her battered body starting to shut down involuntarily. Y/N knew if she didn’t find a safe space to hide soon, she could be in real trouble.

Shoving away from the tree, she relentlessly pushed through the wooded area, desperately trying to find anything that looked familiar. Nothing but trees, brush, and branches surrounded her. She had walked for another fifteen minutes before she heard it. Freezing in place, she listened intently. Footsteps, and not in a cadence she recognized. With a terrified look behind her, she started to run frantically.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” she heard a maniacal voice shout. It only made her run faster and harder in the opposite direction. Glancing nervously behind her to see if she could spot the man chasing her, she stumbled awkwardly and as she tried to right herself – a strong hand lashed out and viciously grabbed her arm. She felt a sharp pain a second later in her neck.

“Gotcha,” a different male’s hateful voice said in her ear. Without rational thought, Y/N thrust the butt of the shotgun into the man’s face, shattering his nose. He cursed loudly, dropping her arm, and frantically grabbing his broken face with both hands. Y/N then spun on him and fired indiscriminately in his direction. She heard the man cry out as dark spots danced in front of her eyes. She fired again for good measure and heard a hoarse grunt before she turned uneasily and blindly started to stumble away, inadvertently dropping the shotgun in the process.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck FUCK she thought anxiously. Okay, we’ve dealt with this already. Take deep slow breaths. Slow your heart down. Control your movements. We can handle this. We beat the drugs once; we can beat them again.

Only this time, she wasn’t as positive.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Sam asked impatiently. Dean slowed the Impala down and listened intently through the open windows. Pulling the car off to the side of the road, he shut the engine down. The brothers listened intently to the world around them, hearing the wind blowing through the leaves and the odd cricket when suddenly

BANG! BANGBANG!

Dean’s furious eyes narrowed.

“They’re hunting something out in those woods,” Sam said, critical eyes on the tree line. He leaned back, vainly trying to see what was there.

“What are the chances it’s her?” Dean asked stonily. Sam turned to look back at the laptop, shrugging.

“It’s possible. She’s in the woods somewhere,” he responded. “Her signal is moving slowly, but I can’t pinpoint an exact location in the woods here.”

“Then we’re going in,” Dean said impatiently, opening his car door. Sam slapped his laptop shut and shoved it under his seat before following suit. When he got to the trunk of the car, Dean already had it open and a shotgun pulled out. He reached in and grabbed his own sawed-off, shoving shells into his pockets. Dean grabbed his pistol and shoved it into the back of his jeans along with a throwing knife. Sam grabbed his own pistol, then reached over to grab one of their empty backpacks and shoved a canteen and the first aid kit inside it. Dean looked at his brother with a raised brow.

“We don’t know what shape she is in. We should be prepared,” Sam explained gently. Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied his brother, then he reached over and grabbed the other empty backpack and did the same. Dean added a blanket to his pack, while Sam added extra ammunition and a flare gun to his.

BANG! BANGBANG! BANG!

Gunshots rang out again, causing the brothers to look at the woods sharply. Dean slammed the trunk to the impala hard and racked the first shot in the shotgun.

“Let’s go, Sammy,” Dean snapped viciously as he led the way in.

Y/N blinked rapidly, desperately trying to clear her vision as she forced herself to move. She tripped and stumbled awkwardly into a nearby tree, scraping the skin off her arm in the process. A whimper escaped her as she forcefully pushed off the tree and forced her legs to keep moving. She had to keep going, she had to keep moving. She refused to die out here in the woods; she had to get back to Dean.

She wiped a hand across her neck and felt a small trickle of blood. She knew they injected her with whatever illegal drug they had been doping her with. She wiped her hand on her jeans, then reached behind her to grab the stolen pistol from the back of her pants. She didn’t know how many bullets she had left in it, but it made her feel comfortable having it in her hand.

She pressed on then, shoving away from the tree and moving slower than before as she made her way into the woods.

I can’t… I CAN’T…she thought miserably. A strangled sob got stuck in her parched throat as she stopped moving and leaned against a tree. Her breathing started growing ragged, almost like she couldn’t get enough air. She started yanking at her shirt, vainly trying to pull it away from her neck.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” she whispered brokenly to no one in particular. She pushed off the tree she leaned wearily against and attempted to walk again. She stumbled awkwardly with every few steps she took. The blurred vision and the dizziness told her the drugs were almost at full effect. It wouldn’t be long before she blacked out completely.

She felt an unknown hand grab her shirt to stop her, and with quick maneuvers made on instinct, she had it off her exhausted body in moments. With the remaining energy she had, she thrust her hand upward and felt the heel of her hand connect roughly with the nose of the person behind her. The sickening crunch and following yowl of pain was music to her ears. Y/N fought through the blurry vision and dizziness to grab the man’s head and forcibly bring it down sharply to her uplifted knee. She cried out herself at the violent contact, her entire leg aching terribly from the hit, but the man was unconscious and wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

Four down. Two left.

Dean held up a hand with a closed fist when he heard the shrill cry of pain. He recognized that sound anywhere. He and Sam locked eyes, and Dean moved his fingers toward the direction he heard the sound coming from. Sam nodded and turned toward it. Slowly and silently, the two hunters crept forward until a gunshot had them running.

The following scream had Dean seeing red.

Fiery pain tore savagely through Y/N’s abdomen, ripping an agonized scream from her burning throat. She staggered her steps, colliding into a tree before collapsing into the brittle leaves on the dirt floor of the forest.

“Y/N!!!!” She heard someone shout frantically. Pulling on all the strength she had left, she yelled back.

“I’m here!!” her hoarse voice cried out. Y/N put both hands on her stomach and pressed, feeling lightning hot pain race through her, riding her veins down to her leg. She felt something warm and sticky there. When she lifted a hand to see what it was, she was mildly surprised to see something red on her fingertips.

She dropped her hand back to the bleeding wound, a hoarse groan ripped from her as complete exhaustion finally took hold. Her stinging, blurry eyes slowly drifted shut, tears making tracks through the dirt and blood on her face.

“She’s over here!” a gruff voice close to her shouted frantically. She listened carefully for the footsteps to come closer to her, but instead, she heard another gunshot. Shouting. Angry voices and crashing foliage. Flesh hitting flesh and another gunshot.

Y/N tried to hang on but felt herself start to drift. Between the drugs and now the gunshot wound, her desperate grip on reality was slipping fast. She felt her head fell back and her mouth open, which was helpful. It made breathing a little easier.

“Y/N. Y/N can you hear me? Y/N!!” she scarcely heard someone say, gently grabbing her face. She tried opening her eyes, but they wouldn’t listen to her. Her harsh breathing started to come in painful little gasps.

“I’m here,” she desperately tried to whisper. Everything sounded so distant, so far away from where she was right then.

“Dean!!” the voice shouted, fear lacing the word. Sam, then, she thought wearily. Her arms were getting heavier, numb even. Even the unbearable pain was going away. She hoped this was just the drugs making her feel this way. She didn’t want to die.

“You’re not gonna die, Y/N. Just hang on. DEAN!!” Sam shouted. That’s nice, she thought distractedly. She heard the distant rustling then the pain was back, sharp and engulfing her. She gasped, her eyes flying open to stare right into the brilliant green of Dean’s frantic ones as he relentessly pushed on her stomach wound.

“C’mon baby, you gotta stay awake for me,” Dean said, his voice filled with anguish and fear. Over his shoulder, Sam was on his phone. No doubt he was calling for help. Y/N’s eyes drooped.

“De…. Dru…gg…ed…” she got out through a pant, then grimaced as a violent wave of pain ran through her body, causing her to shiver violently. Dean’s eyes instantly started looking over her face and neck, before spotting the pinprick on her neck that was bleeding slightly.

“Drugged? They drugged you?” he asked frantically, but she was already out. “Babe? Y/N!? Y/N!!”

Dean started to panic, pushing two fingers into her neck to find your pulse. He found your pulse beating too slowly, but at least it was beating. He had no clue what kind of drug they gave her. Sam hung up the phone and turned back to his big brother.

“We need to get her to the road. They can’t land life flight in the woods,” he said, looking down at Y/N.

“They drugged her, Sammy. See if any of them have any drugs or syringes on them. I’ll start taking her to the car,” Dean demanded, moving to pick Y/N up bridal style so he could carry her. Sam nodded and started going through the pockets of the men around them.

Minutes later, Sam ran up to him with a syringe in his hand. Together they got Y/N to the car, then made it to the main road just as Rescue was pulling up.

The first thing she was aware of was the beeping of the heart rate monitor. The second was the heavy warmth around her hand. She could tell it had been there a while, that she had been there a while, simply by the ache in her joints and muscles. What she wouldn’t give to just stretch and instantly feel everything pop and move back into place like they were naturally supposed to be.

Instead, she tried opening her very heavy eyelids to see where exactly she was.

The hospital room she was in was dimly lit, just a lamp in the corner on the lowest setting. It looked dark outside the window, so it was either really late or really early. When her tired eyes caught the sleeping man in the chair next to her, a contented smile played on her face.

Dean looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his clothes were rumpled. He was sleeping soundly on his folded arms, one eager hand wrapped around hers in a very tight grip. Suddenly, whatever they were arguing about before seemed so unimportant. She couldn’t even remember what it was about. All she really wanted more than anything right then was to see his gorgeous eyes and his charming smile.

Gently squeezing the hand he had a secure grip on, she tried to call his name with no success. Her throat was dry and scratchy, so any sound came out sounding broken and crackly. Thankfully, the door to her private room opened then and Sam walked in with a cup of coffee. When he realized she was awake, he smiled fondly at her with wet eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said quietly, walking over to the opposite side of the hospital bed that Dean was resting on. He leaned down and gently kissed her on the top of the head, knowingly causing her to close her eyes and grin at him. “Welcome back.”

Sam then walked around the hospital bed to where Dean was and set his coffee down on one of the tables in the room. He put his hands on each one of Dean’s shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“Dean… Hey, I need you to wake up for me,” Sam said soothingly, rubbing his arms to gently wake him up. The older Winchester still woke with a jolt and a slight groan. Y/N watched him, eagerly waiting for him to look up at her.

“Look who’s awake, Dean,” Sam said softly. Dean immediately looked up at Y/N and his eager face broke into a relieved smile when he saw her pretty eyes looking back at him. He carefully moved from the chair to the side of her bed and gently pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth. Y/N pressed her hands to his face, needing to feel him, his skin on hers.

“Hey, baby,” Dean whispered tenderly. Y/N sniffled in response, carefully slipping her hands to his flannel shirt, and fisting it tightly. Sam had taken a step back, pouring some water into a cup with a straw for Y/N. He willingly handed it over to Dean who then took it and carefully held it out to Y/N. She took a few long sips of the water and attempted to clear her sore throat of the crude clogging it.

“Are they dead?” she asked, her pleasant voice sounding raw and painful. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, they’re all dead. You’re safe now,” Dean said, running his hand over her hair. “And I am so sorry…”

“No apologies,” Y/N mumbled, gently interrupting him. “You didn’t hang up the phone and got me away from them. That’s more than enough.” Dean shook his head, intentionally avoiding her eyes.

“If I never told you to leave, you would never have been in that position,” he said regretfully. Y/N couldn’t argue that one. Instead, she just took his hand and interlaced her fingers with his.

“Lesson one in learning how to fight correctly: don’t kick each other out of the bunker,” she whispered tenderly, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Dean simply shook his head, swallowing hard. Y/N carefully studied his face. “Hey,”

Dean looked up at her, taking in the cuts and bruises scattered across her face. The guilt in his heart weighed down heavily on him and she could see it in his eyes. She pulled his face back down to hers and eagerly pressed their lips together again.

“I don’t blame you, Winchester,” she whispered fiercely against his lips. “But if it makes you feel better, I forgive you.”

Sam watched from the far side of the hospital room as his big brother and Y/N took the time to thank whoever listens to them that she made it out of this horrible ordeal alive. The drugs that those men kept pumping her full of took three full days to get out of her system. Thankfully, there should be no lasting damage to her. The gunshot wound was superficial, but thanks to the drugs, bled a lot. She’ll have an ugly scar, but she’ll live to talk about it.

It was the rape kit they had to do on her that infuriated the brothers. The doctors inadvertently discovered the need for it when they were prepping her for surgery. It took everything Sam could do to control Dean and his relentless fury. He was on the receiving end of a few punches before he invariably got Dean in a hold that stopped the violent attacks.

“Listen to me. HEY! LISTEN to me!” Sam shouted furiously at his brother once Dean was pressed up against the wall with his arms pinned. “Stop. You’re going to get kicked out of the hospital if you keep this up. The guys who kidnapped her are to blame for this. Not you, not me, and not the medical staff, alright?”

Dean stormed out of the hospital with Sam and Y/N’s doctor watching with frowns on their faces.

“Is he going to be okay?” they asked Sam. He didn’t know how to answer that, so Sam just shrugged. He told the doctors to do what they had to do for Y/N and he’d sign whatever paperwork was needed. Sam ended up sitting with Y/N for almost two days before Dean made his way back. When he arrived, he looked like he hadn’t slept and reeked of smoke and gasoline.

“They won’t be able to hurt her again,” he said as he stared at Y/N from the foot of her bed. Sam simply shook his head and sent Dean to the hotel room he rented to get a hot shower and some sleep.

Sam knew this was going to be new nightmare material for both his brother and Y/N. Dean’s overwhelming guilt would be enough to inevitably create new scenarios in his head that wouldn’t be real. He’ll wake up screaming horribly in the middle of the night thinking he didn’t save Y/N in time. And since Y/N had the Winchester habit of not talking about things, she’d be reliving this in her dreams as well. All Sam could do is be prepared to help them as best he could from the sidelines and remind them how to avoid getting to this place again.

Which does, in fact, start with not kicking each other out of the bunker during a fight.

Supernatural:

@akshi8278
@vicmc624
@agirlwithdemonblood
@flamencodiva
@hobby27
@mimaria420
@compresshischest09
@kkrivers
@deanwanddamons
@LovelyRocker
@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Jensen/Dean Taglist

@deandreamernp
@siospins
@sacriceria
@sexyvixen7
@lanea-1
@nancymcl

Mon, 01 Nov 2021 19:29:36

Of Nightmares and Sandalwood - Dean x Reader Fic

Title – Of Nightmares and Sandalwood
Pairings – Y/N & Dean
Word Count – 3,928
Warnings – Do Nightmares count? Cursing, arguing
SPNMixedBingo Square filled – Early Morning, Touch Starvation, Bed Sharing
Prompt: “I don’t sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented.” “you are afraid of your dreams?” “Yes,” he said quietly.

She doesn’t know what wakes her up, only that something was off, and she couldn’t sleep until she fixed whatever it was. Rolling over and looking at the clock, Y/N realized that it was just before three in the morning.

With a sleepy groan, Y/N climbed out of her warm bed. She reached for a flannel (undoubtedly stolen from one of the brothers, she’s certain) to pull over her tank top and shorts. She slipped on her flip-flops before wandering out of her room to see what was out of the ordinary.

The kitchen was dark, the dishes sitting in the drying rack, so it wasn’t that. Sam’s bedroom door was closed, and she could hear his gentle snores behind it, so she knew it wasn’t him. The bathroom light was off and the door was open, so no one was there.

Dean’s bedroom door, however, was open. Curiously, Y/N walked toward his room and looked inside to find his bed unmade and empty. Frowning, she walked down the hall to the library in search of the older Winchester. The expansive room designated as the ‘Dean Cave’ was dark and empty, as was the library. It wasn’t until she heard familiar music coming from the garage that she got the idea to check there.

Opening the door quietly, she spotted him. He was standing barefooted in the garage with the hood of Baby up, dressed in dirty jeans and a black t-shirt that fit snugly over his chest and shoulders. His expression held a world of unspeakable pain that he couldn’t seem to hide as he focused on some invisible problem with the classic car, his mind a million miles away.

Y/N frowned as she stared thoughtfully at him, knowing something wasn’t right.

Gently closing the door behind her, she walked up to the cooler Dean had a beer sweating on. She picked up the bottle and took a long pull from it, switching off the music with her other hand. The entire garage instantly plunged into silence, causing Dean to startle. He turned on her quickly, pulling his loaded gun from the small of his back and pointing it at her chest in less than a second. His fierce eyes narrowed, a controlled fury there she hadn’t seen in over a decade.

She swallowed the hoppy beer, carefully set the bottle back down, and gently leaned against one of the older cars that were parked in the garage.

“Morning, stranger,” she muttered, a tired frown on her face. Dean grunted at her as he pulled the loaded gun away from her direction, uncocking it and carefully putting it back where it came from.

“Dammit, Y/N. I could have killed you,” he muttered gloomily. Y/N simply raised a brow at him. “And quit drinking my beer!”

“Why are you armed inside the bunker? You know it’s safe here, Dee,” she answered instead. Dean intentionally threw her a dirty look before leaning against the car again, looking down into the engine block. He willfully refused to properly answer her. She tried again.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked gently. Dean tried to ignore her once again. Y/N frowned at him. She looked at the Impala, remaining quiet for a few minutes. Dean didn’t move. After a while, Y/N started to shiver, so she pulled the flannel she had on around herself tighter.

“It’s really late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. Why are you awake right now?” she asked. Dean snapped and slapped the side of the car, causing a loud sound to echo in the garage and Y/N to jump.

“What’s with the twenty questions, Y/N? Can’t you tell I want to be left alone? Can’t you get the hint?” Dean shouted furiously at her. Y/N looked down and away, away from his angry face. She felt her emotions start to overwhelm her again, but she swallowed down her frustration. She refused to be deterred. His deflection wasn’t going to work this time. She started picking at the sleeves of the flannel she wore

“No,” she said quietly.

“What?!” Dean snapped at her. Y/N carefully lifted her eyes and stared thoughtfully at Dean, her face not giving away her emotions.

“I said, no,” she repeated herself. “I can’t just go back inside and act like I don’t know that you are out here hurting. I want to give you your space and let you take out your frustration or whatever it is you are feeling on Baby, but I just can’t walk away this time.” She shrugged, looking away.

“Sorry,” she said distantly, as she diligently studied the car she was leaning on. Dean stared at her, his hands on his hips. He undoubtedly knew he was being cruel. But it was his typical reaction to lash out and push people away. After a long minute, he released a long, heavy sigh.

“I had a nightmare,” he said quietly. Y/N looked over at him silently, encouraging him to continue speaking. She watched as Dean walked over to the Impala and rested his hands on the end of the car, leaning over the engine block yet again.

“What was it about?” Y/N asked, her voice soft in the large room. Dean gently shook his head, staring down at the car once again. “Must have been pretty bad if it’s keeping you awake right now.”

“I’m fine, Y/N,” Dean growled impatiently. Y/N bit her tongue. Yeah, you look terrific. Instead, she just watched as he stared sightlessly at the engine again.

“Why don’t we go inside? I’ll make us something to eat, or maybe we can just grab a few drinks,” she politely suggested. Anything to get that icy cold look off his face. “We don’t even have to talk about the nightmare unless you want to.” Dean remained silent, but the twitch in his jaw showed her that the man heard her. After a few minutes of silence and Y/N sighed.

“Dean, come on. Work with me here,” Y/N started, standing up straight to face the older brother. That’s when Dean snapped again. He reached up and slammed the hood of the Impala, much rougher than he typically would. He turned toward her and growled.

“I’ve about had it with you, Y/N, and your feel-good bullshit. I just said I didn’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he shouted. Y/N wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, only that she was done with him and with his bullshit.

“Stop fucking yelling at me!” Y/N finally shouted back, causing Dean to shut his mouth with an audible click. “Jesus Christ, Dean. What the hell is your problem? Not everyone is your fucking enemy or is trying to hurt you. I’m not trying to fucking hurt you!”

Dean stared at her, his breathing harsh through his nose as he tried to control his temper and his raging emotions as he watched Y/N finally lose her temper with him.

“I woke up, and I didn’t know why. I was merely checking on you and Sam and noticed you were missing. I’m so sorry that my checking on you was such a fucking inconvenience to you, Dean!” she bellowed snidely. The two glared defiantly at each other for a long minute. Finally, Y/N held her hands up in a surrender motion.

“You know what,” she started, her voice low and monotone. “Forget I said anything. You want to stay out here and wallow in self-pity and whatever bullshit you got rolling around in that head of yours instead of talking to me about it, be my guest. I’m done.” Y/N turned on her heel and walked toward the door out of the garage and back into the main part of the bunker.

For reasons Dean didn’t understand, he instantly started to panic.

“Y/N,” he said cautiously to get her attention.

“Go fuck yourself,” she muttered fiercely, simply waving her hand at him. She swung open the door, moments away from crossing the threshold. His panic grew, and he intuitively knew if he didn’t get her attention back now, he would be doing irrevocable damage to their relationship.

“Y/N!!”

That stopped her. Dean’s voice sounded agonized, hurt, and broken down. But at this point, so was Y/N. She turned back to look at him, one foot inside the pleasant warmth of the bunker and ready to forget this even happened.

“What?!” she snapped at him; her kind eyes narrowed and glassy.

“I don’t sleep,” Dean said. Y/N’s expression changed from one of hurt and anger to one of confusion.

“What?” she bit out, confusion coloring her tone this time.

“I don’t sleep. After my nightmares, I don’t sleep. My subconscious mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented,” he gently explained, his eyes anywhere but on her face. “Once it starts, I can’t seem to stop it, so it’s just safer to… not sleep.”

“You’re afraid of your dreams?” Y/N asked softly, her heartbreaking for him.

“Yeah. Sure,” he said quietly. His weight subtly shifted between his bare feet.

Y/N watched him for a long moment, then walked back into the garage. The door slammed shut behind her, but she ignored it. Dean noticed she was walking toward him and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling incredibly vulnerable now. Once she was next to him, Y/N carefully wrapped her hand around his arm, slid it down his soft skin, and held onto his wrist. She gently rested her head against his shoulder as she pulled his left hand out of his pocket and intertwined their fingers together.

Dean turned his head to look cautiously at her, his mask sliding into place so she couldn’t read what he was thinking. She didn’t need to see his face to feel his trepidation, his worry, his comfort at her closeness, or his self-loathing for feeling he didn’t deserve it. Y/N lifted her Y/C/E to Dean’s green ones.

“Do you trust me?” she asked quietly.

“You know I do,” Dean answered just as softly. Y/N offered a tiny smile before gently pulling him with her toward the direction of the door inside.

“Come on,” she whispered, tilting her head toward the door. Y/N squeezed his hand, then took a step back, away from the Impala. “Come on, Dean.”

Dean watched her try to pull him away from the car, the garage, his sanctuary, with pain-filled eyes before he closed them and sighed brokenly. It was then he finally moved and let Y/N pull him toward the door back inside the bunker. She turned away from him to see where she was going, but once they were down the stairs, she turned and looked back at him. When she looked back at Dean, he had his eyes fixed on the ground.

Y/N stepped closer to him, still leading them through the bunker, carefully wrapping his arm around her waist. She felt more than heard his breath catch as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her belly from where her tank top rode up a little. He naturally tried pulling away, but she wouldn’t let him. He genuinely needed comfort, and she wasn’t going to let him deny himself that. Once they were in front of his room, she turned to look at him.

“I’m going to run to my room for a moment to grab some things. Be in bed by the time I get back,” she explained softly to him. Dean shook his head and instantly started to protest, which caused Y/N to hold up a dainty finger to his lips. His eyes opened fractionally at her soft touch.

“I wasn’t asking,” she said knowingly. She stared resolutely into Dean’s eyes until she saw when he relented, then nodded her head. She squeezed his hand before she turned and walked across the hall and down a few doors to where her room was. Once inside, she moved quickly. She grabbed her sandalwood and vanilla lotion, tucked her pillow under her arm, and turned off her diffuser. She emptied the water and oils she had in the machine already, wiping it out with a microfiber cloth.

Opening the small wooden case of oils, she chose a few scents she thought Dean would find calming: Sandalwood, Cinnamon, and Caramel. She put drops of the oils in the diffuser and grabbed a bottle of water to fill it with once she got back into Dean’s room. She grabbed her sound machine then left her room, using her elbow to flip off her light.

Walking into Dean’s room, she was pleased to see he had done what she had asked. He was lying on his back. His thick blanket was pulled to his waist, and he was staring wistfully at the ceiling. The room was dim and cool, the only light coming from a lamp on his nightstand. Y/N walked over to the bed and dropped the pillow from under her arm onto his bed. Dean turned his head to watch her.

Without saying a word, she went over to where his desk was and set all her items down. The first thing she did was plug in the diffuser. She set the machine on his desk, removed the lid, and opened the bottle of water in her hand. Filling the basin to the top of the waterline, she put the lid back on it. She then set it to run steadily throughout the next 8 hours. Sealing the water bottle once again, she moved to her next task.

She then turned her noise machine on to the sound of white noise. Typically, she’d fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves or rainfall, but this was for Dean. White noise was the easiest thing to choose. She set the volume to low: loud enough to be heard over the noise of the diffuser but quiet enough to be in the background and not keep them awake. She picked up her lotion and turned to face Dean.

“Take your shirt off and turn over on your belly,” she said softly, walking over to the bed. Dean stared at her for a long moment, wanting to argue. “Just trust me, Dean.”

With a huff, he sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it aside and rolled over onto his belly, and settled down on his bed. Y/N grabbed her pillow and put it up next to Dean, so she had something to lay on, pulled off her flannel and tossed it over the chair, climbed up onto the bed, and straddled his hips. She felt Dean stiffen as her body touched his, and she instantly hushed him.

“It’s okay, Dean. Close your eyes and take deep breaths,” Y/N quietly said. Dean heard a soft ‘click’ of the lotion bottle opening, then silence. Slowly, Dean willingly let his eyes drift shut. He inhaled slowly, and the spicy scent that filled his senses started calming him almost instantly. When he exhaled, he felt Y/N’s soft hands run over his tense shoulders.

“That’s it,” he heard her say, her voice almost melodic. “Take some deep breaths. Inhale slowly, exhale just as slow. Let the sandalwood and cinnamon fill your senses, calm your mind, ease your spirits.”

Her hands started out gentle as they ran over his shoulders and up to his neck, slowly growing in pressure. Her hands would find a knot in his muscles and spend some extra time there, focusing on the spot and adding some careful pressure there to ease the tension. The entire time he continued his deep breaths, focusing on keeping them even and steady.

“I want you to think about something good, something that brings you joy,” Y/N said as her hands ran up and down his spine. “Think about a moment when you remember being completely at ease and relaxed. Who was there with you, where you were, what you were doing…”

Dean immediately thought of the evening a few nights ago, when the three of them were sitting around the library just hanging out and chatting. They were sharing a bottle of whiskey they found created by Metallica. When Dean found out about it, he was so excited he bought four bottles. They opened one immediately when they got home and just sat around the table and talked about music while passing the bottle around. He found out just how much music they all actually had in common that same night.

“Now take a deep breath, nice and slow…”

He inhaled, and the scent of vanilla filled his nose with the spicy scent of wood and cinnamon. He felt pressure on the base of his skull now, easing tension he didn’t even know he had there. He took a deep breath and released a soft moan of pleasure as he exhaled, turning his head so that Y/N had easy access to his neck and skull.

“Just breathe easy and let the tension go… Focus on the good and release the tension in your body…”

Her warm hands felt so good sliding across his skin, putting pressure on different parts of his body that were sore. He was feeling peaceful with the warmth of her body close to his, and he felt himself drifting…

“Take a deep breath, Dean. In through your nose and release slowly out through your mouth,” he heard her soft voice say next to his ear. He inhaled slowly, and when he exhaled, he felt her warm hands put solid pressure on the muscles next to his spine, moving slowly upward. He felt the vertebra give, popping deeply and releasing tension as her hands moved their way from his lower back upward to his shoulders. It pulled a deep moan from him as his muscles gave a slight twitch before relaxing under her touch. Once she had finished the pressure trail up to his neck, she ran her hands gently up and down his spine.

“There you go,” he heard her soft voice mumble gently to him. “Just breathe deeply, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Let the scent of sandalwood and vanilla calm you. Clear your mind of any thoughts and rest.”

Dean felt the pressure again, but this time against his neck and skull. Y/N pressed her thumbs at the base of his skull, pushing down against the soft spot at the center and brushing outward to where the occipital nerve rests on each side. At first, he tensed up again, but remembering what she said about breathing, he forced himself to relax and continue the deep breathing. Soon, the soft touches grew deeper and harder, gently pressing the tension away.

With everything that was happening all at once, he caught himself slowly growing tired, and sleep danced on the edges of his consciousness. He fought the urge to slip away until he heard Y/N start humming above him. Just as he floated off to sleep, he realized she was humming Hey Jude.

When Y/N realized that he was asleep, she intentionally slowed her hands against his skin until she stopped moving altogether. Moving as slow as she possibly could, she gracefully slid off Dean’s body and reached over to turn off the light. The room instantly dropped into complete darkness, and Y/N used her hands to guide her to the opposite side of Dean’s bed. With careful movements, she slid under the covers and curled up next to Dean.

She ran her fingers through his short hair, running her fingers down his back to where the sheet and blanket rested at his waist. Using careful and slow movements, she gently pulled them up over them both. Once they were properly covered, she leaned over and tenderly kissed Dean on the temple.

“Good night, Dee,” she whispered almost silently into his ear before snuggling up against him. With a deep sigh, Y/N felt herself relax off to sleep herself.

The next time he became aware of his surroundings, he felt a pleasant warmth pressed up against him. It was in his arms. He took a deep breath, and the spicy scent that calmed him the night before was still lingering nearby. He realized, quite suddenly, that he had slept soundly the rest of the night after a horrific nightmare.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking down to find Y/N wrapped in his arms. Her head rested peacefully on her pillow, her back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. Dean stared at her, uncertain what to think.

“Stop thinking so hard, it’s still too early,” Y/N muttered, her voice rough with sleep. She snuggled down into her pillow, her body pressing closer against Dean’s.

“I slept through the night last night,” he said softly. Y/N smiled; eyes still closed.

“Yes, you did,” she said.

“I haven’t slept through the night after a nightmare. Ever,” Dean said thoughtfully. “How did you do that?”

“Hmmm?” Y/N hummed sleepily, rolling over and gently pushing at Dean. He promptly turned onto his back and let Y/N curl up on his chest; her hand curled up next to her face, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Dean wrapped his arm around her, running his fingers up and down her arm. Y/N smiled gently at his touch.

“I said, how did you get me to sleep through the night after a nightmare?” he asked softly, tilting his head toward hers. Y/N pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Is the diffuser still running?” she questioned. When Dean didn’t respond, she repeated herself. Dean lifted his head and looked around his room until his eyes fell on a small machine shooting a mist into the air on his desk. When he asked if that was it, he confirmed it was still going.

“Then it’s not time to get up yet. Go back to sleep, I’ll explain it later,” Y/N said. Dean looked down at the woman in his arms and let a smile play on his lips. He carefully brushed a kiss on her forehead then snuggled down under the blankets and closed his eyes.

Maybe he should have nightmares more often if it meant he got to wake up with Y/N in his arms, asleep in his bed. Maybe he could have this after all, and it would be okay. Maybe there was something more here than he originally thought. Maybe… Dean felt a hand against his cheek, causing his eyes to open, then slip shut as he felt Y/N’s soft lips press against his in a tender kiss.

Their mouths moved against each other gently, cautiously feeling each other’s lips against each other sweetly. Just as Dean was about to deepen the chaste kiss, Y/N pulled away and slowly opened her eyes to stare at him.

“You’re thinking too much. Go back to sleep,” she whispered, gently brushing a delicate fingertip over his mouth. “I’ll answer all of your questions in a few hours. Then maybe we can try this again.”

Dean watched as Y/N shot him a sleepy grin, then settled back down against him. He blinked once, then twice, then broke into a huge smile. Tightening his arms around the extraordinary woman in his bed, he buried himself into her and the delicious warmth of her skin. There was a promise of something exciting and new waiting for him after they woke up once again.

If all his nightmares had this kind of outcome, he’d take all the night terrors he could get.

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Sat, 25 Sep 2021 12:50:00

Something to be Thankful For - Chapter 8 (FINAL)

Title – Something to be Thankful For
Pairings – Jensen/Reader
Word Count – 2,498
Warnings – Nothing for this final chapter!
Square filled – Thanksgiving

Jensen Ackles’ life changes when he walks into his favorite coffee shop and meets Y/N, a Florida girl making a new start in Austin, Texas, as a Sheriff’s Deputy with the help of her sister. The two hit it off and quickly become an item that even the tabloids can’t tear apart. Jensen is excited to show his girl off at Thanksgiving dinner with his family, but she has to work the parade that morning first. What starts out as a normal event filled with balloons, clowns, and cheery faces soon turns deadly as one of the floats explodes and gunfire fills the air. Soon, Y/N is in a fight for her life as she and the rest of the deputies fight back against whoever it is trying to take over Downtown Austin.

Is Jensen doomed to watch the woman who brought love back into his life perish in a tragic mass attack, or will he have Something to be Thankful For after all?

AN: Thank you so much for all the love for StbTF! You guys have seriously made my heart so full with your kind words. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LISTS!

Chapter 8

TIME STAMP – 9 MONTHS

“This was a good session, everyone,” the counselor said, closing the folder she had in her lap. “I’m proud of the progress each of you are making. I know it’s hard, and it’s still going to take some time, but know you are all doing great. We’ll see you next week.”

Y/N stood up from her chair and waved goodbye to a few of her fellow deputies. The Sheriff made it mandatory those who were involved in the fray on Thanksgiving were to attend counseling sessions. It was met with resistance from many people, but when word got around that the sessions were going to be run by Maya Sonder things changed.

Maya Sonder is a well-known psychologist in law enforcement and had done plenty of presentations regarding PTSD, stress management, and the like. In fact, some of her sessions were required for new deputies who were just starting out. After she led a few of the sessions with those specifically involved in the Thanksgiving shooting, requests came in for more sessions unrelated to that specific incident.

Now, Maya was an employee of the Sheriff’s Office with her own office on property. She had group counseling sessions daily and always had her door open for one-on-one sessions in the case of an emergency. Even civilian employees started to take advantage of her services. It did wonders for the morale of the agency.

Y/N pushed the doors to the administration offices open and walked out of the building, pulling her sunglasses from the top of her head, and placed them over her eyes. Scanning the parking lot, she spotted Jensen leaning against his truck and playing on his phone. Smiling, she made her way over to him. She had been halfway toward him before he looked up and spotted her, a smile gracing his own face.

“Hey, sailor,” she said in a sing-song voice. Jensen chuckled, and when they met in the center of the parking lot, he cupped a gentle hand against her cheek and pulled her in for a deep kiss. Y/N responded with a quiet whimper, rising on her toes to reach him.

“Get a room, you two! This is a business, not a brothel!” they both heard someone shout. Breaking away, they laughed as they turned to look at Trevor as he walked by them on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Trevor,” Jensen said, pulling Y/N into a hug.

“Hey, Jensen. Get her outta here. Enjoy your weekend together,” he said with a wave. Jensen looked down at Y/N in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sir, yes sir,” he responded, turning them toward his truck. Jensen kept his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. He opened the passenger side door and helped Y/N step up into his truck before closing the door and going to the driver’s side. When he climbed in, he looked over at Y/N with a cheeky grin.

“Hey, babe,” he said sweetly. Y/N leaned over pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Hey, yourself,” she responded. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jensen nodded and turned the truck on, putting it into drive. He held Y/N’s hand the entire ride home.

It had been a tough 9 months for them. She was finally walking without a limp and breathing without any pain in her chest. The only remaining signs she has from the attack during the Thanksgiving Day Parade are the scars: physical and mental. The bullet wound on her hip was already covered by a tattoo thanks to a trip with her sister. The one her leg is something she will have to live with; there is no covering the damage there. The one on her face is thankfully covered by her hair.

Jensen was still doing his own therapy group up in Vancouver, and sometimes Jared would go with him. A support group for loved ones of Law Enforcement was something that helped both not only understand the heavy physical demands that being an officer requires but also the emotional ones as well. It’s more than PT tests and name-calling. The insight the group was able to give allowed both men to understand why Y/N would react to certain sounds, why she had to sit with her back against a wall, or why she always had a weapon on her person when they went out.

While she did her weekly group therapy with people at the agency, she still did her own therapy outside of the agency once a week as well. Five months later, she still had a hard time accepting the fact that Danny’s death was not her fault. A shooting incident while on a call didn’t help matters much.

Jensen flew back to Austin to surprise Y/N with a long weekend together, only to find her curled up in the corner of their shared bedroom crying hysterically. When he realized what was going on, Jensen dropped his things and approached her.

“Y/N?” he said quietly, cautiously reaching out to her. “Honey?”

When he finally landed a gentle hand on her arm, she startled. Jensen sat back on his haunches to keep from being on the receiving end of a fist, but she didn’t lash out. She started to cry harder.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jensen asked, reaching a hand up to her cheek. Instead of answering, Y/N reached for him. Jensen sat down on the floor with his back against the wall and pulled Y/N into his lap, pressing her head down on his shoulder. She gripped his shirt tightly with both hands, her sobs getting harsher. He just wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang. Looking around for the mobile device, Jensen realized her cell phone was on the floor next to them. He reached over and grabbed it without letting go of Y/N, looking at the caller ID before answering it. Maya.

“Hey,” he answered in a strained voice.

“Jensen?” Maya said surprised. “Where is she? Are you with her?”

“What happened? She’s hysterical, and I can’t get her to calm down,” Jensen said.

“Whereareyou?” Maya asked again.

“What the hell happened, Maya? I came home from Vancouver to find my girlfriend in hysterics over something, and I can’t get her to calm down. What is going on?!” Jensen demanded. Maya sighed on the other line.

“We had… an… incident. A domestic violence suspect was barricaded inside his house, refusing to come out. It had been hours before we were able to get him to release his girlfriend and come out. He was able to get a few shots off before we neutralized the threat. No one died, but there are some injuries,” Maya summarized. Jensen closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

He then rattled off his address and hung up the phone, dropping it on the carpet next to him. He wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her closer to him, hushing her softly.

“It wasn’t your fault, babe,” he muttered quietly. “Danny wasn’t your fault. Todaywasn’t your fault.”

Y/N just cried harder, her arms wrapping around Jensen and clenching in his shirt behind his back. Jensen was rocking her slowly when he heard his front door open, and a voice calls out. He shouted back at them to direct them to the master bedroom. Moments later, Maya and a tall man were walking into the room.

Jensen glared at them as they carefully made their way over to where they were sitting on the floor. Maya knelt beside them, frowning with deep sorrow in her eyes. When she looked up at the man next to her, he shook his head.

They had come to find out the man who was with Maya was Trevor Benson, Y/N’s lieutenant. He had been worried about how Y/N was acting after the domestic violence scene and had been trying to get in touch with her to do a wellness check. When she didn’t respond, he got Maya involved. It wasn’t until Jensen answered the phone they finally located the hurting deputy.

Maya decided to add an extra counseling session to Y/N’s treatment and asked Trevor to be there. Since he had experience in attacks like what happened on Thanksgiving, and in losing deputies much like how Danny died, Maya thought maybe he could help Y/N learn to forgive herself.

“It’s not something you are ever going to forget, Y/N,” Trevor had told her during one session together. “But you can’t control what people choose to do. In Danny’s case, he chose to go into the open. That’s on him, not you.”

“I could have saved him if I wasn’t injured. He saved me,” Y/N said quietly, her eyes on her hands. “He helped me.”

“Even if you were at 100% Y/N, you were not going to be able to save him. The shot that took him was lethal. I know you want to believe you could have saved him, but sometimes bad things happen to good people. You are not to blame for this.”

The group sessions continued for months. Trevor even escorted Y/N to see Danny’s grave, something she had yet to do because she was feeling so guilty. He held her as she cried her grief and allowed her some time to talk to Danny by herself when she asked for it. After that, she had been doing better.

“Um, Jen?” Y/N suddenly asked. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to dinner,” Jensen said with a smile. Y/N gave her adorable boyfriend of almost one year a suspicious look and Jensen laughed. “Just relax! Enjoy the evening.”

Jensen pulled up to Wink, one of Y/N’s favorite splurge restaurant’s in Austin. They discovered it one night early in their relationship, and Y/N fell in love with their art, small dishes, and local purchasing. It was something you simply didn’t get from places in Florida, so Y/N immediately fell in love with the place. Y/N’s eyes lit up when she saw where they were.

“Really? What’s the occasion?” she asked excitedly. Jensen chuckled as he handed the keys to the valet and wrapped her arm around his.

“I just wanted to do something nice for us. We deserve it,” he said softly. Y/N melted, kissing Jensen on the cheek as they walked in. He blushed slightly at the display of affection in front of the hostess, who giggled at them, before giving his name for the reservation. The two were escorted to a private table and were handed glasses of red wine immediately.

“What did you do?” Y/N asked suspiciously. Jensen laughed again.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Reservation already made, the wine already here, you’re up to something mister,” Y/N said with raised a brow at him. She took another long sip of her wine causing Jensen to laugh again.

“Just enjoy the dinner, honey,” he said as a plate of appetizers was placed in front of them. The evening went along beautifully as they enjoyed a wonderful meal. It gave them a chance to catch up after he was gone in Vancouver filming. He told stories from the set, and she laughed at the crazy antics. She filled him in on the happenings of Austin and how her sister was thinking of opening a second location near the Sheriff’s office.

Toward the end of the meal, the two were sharing a dessert when a slow song suddenly started playing. Jensen watched Y/N carefully, suddenly feeling insanely nervous.

“Hey, wait a minute…” Y/N said, listening carefully. Jensen set his spoon down and wiped his mouth. “Isn’t this… Oh my God! Jen!”

“Yeah,” Jensen said quietly, standing up. He held out his hand, asking Y/N to stand. With a smile, Y/N took his hand and stood. Jensen smoothly guided Y/N into his arms. Her eyes were soft when she looked at him, his arms wrapping around his waist.

It played out stranger than it seemed
But what went down came true
Like an all day dream

The two started to slow dance in the small space next to their table, Jensen softly singing the lyrics to his song in Y/N’s ear. Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from playing on her face. Jensen held her closer, his heart fluttering as he heard her voice in his ear singing the lyrics as well.

I don’t want to be the one to say it’s wrong
When the heavens open and a new day comes along
I know I would rather be together alone
In a big top circle and a world we can call our own
It’s all our own

Jensen pulled back a little, looking into Y/N’s eyes as they sang the next part together. His fingers gently brushed his fingers into her hair, curling it behind her ear. Y/N rested her forehead against his, her heart so full of love for this man.

In a world we can call our own
You’ll find shelter darlin’
Where I’ll always promise to
Never let it be

“I love you,” Y/N whispered to Jensen, pressing her lips to his as the song ended. Jensen pulled back and looked at Y/N with so much emotion.

“I can’t imagine my life without you, Y/N,” Jensen said, slowly bringing them to a stop. “The day I saw you in the coffee shop was the best day of my life. The next best day was Thanksgiving when they told me you were alive. You can top both by answering this one question.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box before dropping to one knee. Y/N’s eyes widened dramatically, her mouth opening in surprise.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N… Will you marry me?” he asked, opening the velvet box to display a beautiful solitaire ring set in a platinum band with two sapphires on each side of it. Y/N nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

“Yes. Of course, I will marry you,” she whispered. Jensen smiled brightly, standing, and crashed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss, Y/N’s hands on his cheeks. When they separated, Jensen slipped the ring on her finger while both laughing.

“God, I love you,” Jensen said, kissing Y/N again. Cheers were heard behind them, causing them to separate. Y/N watched as Jared walked up behind Jensen and dropped a hand on his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes lit up and she laughed. Holly walked up and cheered, giving Y/N a hug as well.

Soon, the small area was full of their friends and family. Waiters from the restaurant carried out trays of wine and champagne for the guests, and soon the celebration was underway for the group. Y/N grabbed Jensen’s hand and pulled him outside.

“You okay?” Jensen asked concerned. Y/N just nodded and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Jensen wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. By the time they separated, they were both panting.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” Y/N breathed. “Thank God I moved to Texas.”

TAGLISTS:

Supernatural:

@akshi8278
@vicmc624
@agirlwithdemonblood
@flamencodiva
@hobby27
@mimaria420
@compresshischest09
@kkrivers
@deanwanddamons
@LovelyRocker
@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Jensen/Dean Taglist

@deandreamernp
@siospins
@sacriceria
@sexyvixen7
@lanea-1
@nancymcl

Something to be Thankful For Taglist:

@wayward-gypsy
@stoneyggirl2
@Supernatural3002
@anunstablefangirl

@deandreamernp
@siospins
@sacriceria
@sexyvixen7
@lanea-1
@nancymcl

Sat, 28 Aug 2021 21:34:42

Something To Be Thankful For - Chapter 7

Title – Something to be Thankful For
Pairings – Jensen/Reader
Word Count – 1,705
Warnings – RATED R FOR: Violence in the form of a mass bombing/shooting, injuries both explained and detailed, cursing
SPNMixedBingo Square filled – Thanksgiving

Is Jensen doomed to watch the woman who brought love back into his life perish in a tragic mass attack, or will he have Something to be Thankful For after all?

Chapter 7

Jensen walked into the hospital room slowly; eyes wide and scared as he looked toward the bed. The head of it was lifted a bit more than it had been the last time he was in there, and Y/N was propped up with extra pillows. The nurse that left the room as they walked up had told them a new IV bag, another dose of antibiotics, and pain medication was administered, but Y/N was awake.

Right then, she had her eyes closed as she rested against the pillow behind her head, her hair a halo against the white sheets. As if sensing someone was in the room with her, Y/N slowly opened her eyes with a whimper. From where he was standing, he could see that Y/N was looking around the room without moving her head. When she noticed Jensen, Y/N’s breath caught as her eyes filled once again. The weight in Jensen’s chest lifted slightly seeing her eyes open.

“Hey, baby…” Jensen muttered as he came further into the room.

“Jen,” Y/N breathed, watching as he came closer to her. For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Y/N started to cry as she lifted her hand toward the man she loved. Jensen took it in both of his as he sat in the chair next to her bed. He kissed her fingertips, and then pressed her hand against his cheek. Her skin was cold against his warm skin, but it was still the best feeling he had in the last 12 hours.

“I am so thankful you are okay,” Jensen choked out, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. Y/N simply stared at him, watching him carefully through a haze of pain and drugs. Jensen smiled at her softly before his expression melted into one of sorrow and fear. A wave of guilt crashed over Y/N, causing her eyes to slide shut. She felt a sob escape her, causing her face to scrunch up painfully as tiny stabs of pain danced along her ribs.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” Y/N choked brokenly. Jensen shook his head. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” he whispered back, his own voice cracking. “No, Y/N. Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. I promise. It’s just…Y/N…” Y/N slowly opened her eyes, tears streaming down her guilt-stricken face. She watched as Jensen stood and fiddled with the side railing of the bed until he figured out how to get the thing to lower. Carefully, he sat down on the mattress next to Y/N, whispering his apologies every time she winced. He leaned over to get as close as he could dare to, bringing their faces inches apart, his warm hands cradling her face.

“I thought I lost you today, Y/N,” he whispered. “I thought I lost you without ever telling you just how much I love you. I won’t let another moment go by without saying it again.”

Y/N’s breath catches at the word love, causing her eyes to widen slightly. She blinked a few times, forcing more tears to rush down her face. Jensen brushed them away with his thumbs, pressing a kiss to her forehead before continuing.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it, and I’m sorry I’m saying it like this. I know I should have made the moment more romantic and not just after a tragedy, but I almost lost you today,” Jensen said. He paused and looked at you in silence for a long moment, a tear breaking free and running down his cheek unchecked. “I almost lost you today,” he whispered, his breath catching. Y/N lifted a hand to grab a hold of his wrist gently, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I love you too,” Y/N breathed, her own tears spilling. “Before everything happened this morning, I was thinking about how I should tell you. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

Jensen’s eyes lit up at her words and he delicately pressed his lips to hers, kissing the woman he loves and almost lost. When they separated, they simply stayed close together to share the same air. Y/N sniffled slightly, blinking a few more tears free that Jensen all too eagerly brushed away.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” Y/N whispered again, only to have Jensen hush her gently. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

“I love you so much,” Jensen whispered back, slowly settling himself back into a seated position on the bed. Y/N looked up at him, interlacing her fingers with his. They stared at each other in silence for a long time before Y/N found the strength to speak again.

“I love you, Jen… and I feel like I should warn you. What happened today… what I saw…” she said brokenly.

“No matter what happens, I will help you any way I can,” Jensen said quietly.

“It could get ugly. I’m going to be messed up for a while. I won’t blame you if you want to cut and run now,” she said, dropping her eyes. Jensen leaned down to kiss Y/N once more.

“I love you, and I will help you any way I can. Now get some rest. When they release you, you are going to stay with me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jen,” Y/N whispered again. Jensen shook his head.

“Hey, no. No more of that. None of this was your fault,” he said. “Just get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Ten days later, Y/N sat in the wheelchair with her favorite blanket wrapped around her, dressed in the most comfortable pajama pants and a zip-up hoodie she stole from Jensen. She shifted gingerly in the chair, making sure she was as comfortable as she could get before Jared walked back into the room to push her out of the hospital.

“Okay, I think we have everything packed up. Are you sure you don’t want to take the slipper socks? You never know when you’re going to need them,” Holly asked, holding up the ugly pair of red socks with white rubber tread. Y/N gave her sister a dry look.

“No,” Y/N said flatly. Holly nodded and dropped the socks back on the bed with a wry smirk, before zipping up the overnight bag of things that ended up making their way to Y/N’s hospital room. Clothes, blankets, toiletries, and a few electronics like her new phone and charger, and iPad all were packed up.

“Do you have any plans while you are at Jensen’s?” Holly asked with forced nonchalance. Y/N looked down at her hands, picking at her nails.

“They’re on hiatus for the holidays, so I’m just going to relax and enjoy my time with him between my physical therapy appointments,” she mumbled. “Continue with therapy.”

“Danny wasn’t your fault, Y/N/N,” Holly said sympathetically, walking around to face her with the overnight bag.

“Yeah,” she murmured. Y/N looked at her sister with a sad smile, trying to take the bag from her. Holly held it away from her.

“No,” Holly said firmly. “Your ribs aren’t healed yet, and the doctor said you can’t lift anything for three more weeks.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Y/N huffed. Holly shook her head with a sigh.

“No, honey, you’re not. You’re injured. There is a difference,” Holly said, kneeling down to see Y/N face to face. “This isn’t like the school shooting where you were able to walk away with a few bumps and bruises. We almost lost you. I watched you almost get blown up live on television. So if nothing else, humor me and let us take care of you, yeah?”

Y/N watched her sister for a long moment, before looking away with a nod. Holly stood up, slung the overnight bag over one shoulder, and crossed her arms over her chest. Y/N sighed and snuggled down in the blanket around her as Jared walked in.

“Okay, you two. Your paperwork is finished. Jensen is waiting downstairs with Cliff, making sure we can make a clean getaway. Ready to head out?” he asked. Y/N nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly. Holly and Jared shared a concerned glance, but let it go. It was a quiet walk to the front of the hospital with Jared pushing the wheelchair and Holly carrying Y/N’s items. When they got there, Y/N saw Jensen talking with her doctor.

“…and I’m serious about the extra therapy. We’ve got some good doctors here that would be able to help,” she heard the doctor say. Jensen nodded, taking the pamphlets from him before shaking his hand.

“Yes, sir. We’ll be going,” he said. Jensen turned to face Y/N, his entire expression lighting up when he set eyes on her. “Hey, baby.”

“I’m already looking at going to therapy for the attack,” Y/N said, feeling insulted that they were talking behind her back. Jensen shook his head.

“It isn’t for you. It’s for me,” he explained. Y/N mouth opened in surprise.

“Oh,” Y/N muttered in surprise as Jensen knelt next to Y/N. “Are you okay?” she asked him quietly, the concern in her voice evident. Jensen’s smile softened and he took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles.

“I’m fine. I was getting information about a therapy group for loved ones of law enforcement officers. I know we have a rough road ahead of us, and I don’t know the first thing about how to help you. So, when I asked for advice, Dr. Marx suggested this as a starting place I could go to gain some insight from others who are in the same place I am,” he explained. Y/N closed her eyes and felt ashamed of herself. She dropped her head, hiding behind her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything.” Jensen brushed her hair out of the way and carefully lifted her face so he could look into her eyes with a gentle smile. He leaned over and kissed Y/N on the forehead.

“Sweetheart. It’s okay. I told you, I’m here. I know it’s going to be tough” Jensen said. “I just know we’re tougher.” Y/N looked at him lovingly.

“I love you,” she said. Jensen smiled.

“I love you, too,” he replied. “Now, let’s get you home.”

Taglists:

Supernatural:

@akshi8278
@vicmc624
@agirlwithdemonblood
@flamencodiva
@hobby27
@mimaria420
@compresshischest09
@kkrivers
@deanwanddamons
@LovelyRocker

Jensen/Dean Taglist

Something to be Thankful For Taglist:

@wayward-gypsy
@stoneyggirl2
@Supernatural3002
@anunstablefangirl

@the-only-villain-here-is-me

Tue, 24 Aug 2021 20:07:19

“What the hell y/n?!”

“Ok, so yeah, I’m kind of an angel…”

“Yeah, kind of got that!”

“Well, would you have rather me let him die Dean?”

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 11:09:34

“Dude, I told you not to piss her off”

“How is this my fault?!”

“You’re the one that decided to make fun of how she hunts, Dean!”

@the-only-villain-here-is-me

Mon, 04 Mar 2019 00:04:03

Winchesters x Reader

Summary: When Sam and Dean visit a witness for questioning, they’re surprised to find someone else waiting for them instead. Though they haven’t a clue of who she is, she knows them all too well…

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

“Hiya sweetheart. We have a few questions to ask, so what do you say you let us in?”

Y/N looked out the crack of the door, and saw two men waiting outside. The one who had just spoken flashed her a smile as the other nudged him in the side.

She appraised them with a lifted brow. “You’re expecting me to invite two strangers into the house just like that?”

“Dean, be professional!” the taller man hissed. He turned back at Y/N and cleared his throat. “Sorry Miss, my partner is still a little hazy about the whole introductions thing.” He flashed a badge and gave a quick smile. “I’m agent Farell and this is my partner, Agent Hodgson. We’re here about the Riverside murders.”

“FBI,” Y/N nodded. “Come on in.”

She opened the door wide, and let the men follow her into the parlor. She smiled to herself when she heard them whispering behind her.

“I don’t know about this, Sammy. This house is supposed to be owned by a Mrs McGregor. The chick that let us in looks kinda young to be an 86 years old granny…”

“Maybe she’s a relative? We can’t be sure until- Dean! Put the gun away!”

Y/N turned around and smiled sweetly. “Is everything alright back there, Agents?” She sensed Sam and Dean’s caution and was pleased by their obvious discomfort. This was going to be fun…

“Everything’s just dandy,” Dean replied with a bite.

The trio made it to a brightly lit room and Y/N leaned against a table. “So, you guys wanted to talk about the Riverside killings?”

Dean glared at her with pursed lips, his hand shadowing over his holster. Y/N eyed him warily.

“That’s right,” Sam said. “But we came to see Mrs McGregor. Who are you?”

Y/N wracked her brain, trying to think of an answer. “I’m an aid,” she said quickly.

“Funny,” Dean huffed. “You see, we talked to McGregor’s son just this morning, and he told us that she lived alone.”

Y/N looked back at Sam and Dean’s darkened expressions. Both were slowly inching closer to her and teasing them suddenly wasn’t as fun as it was before.

She backed up with a nervous laugh. “Okay, confession time… my name is Y/N and I’m not an aid. You guys are Sam and Dean Winchester, right?”

Sam pulled out a silver blade as Dean cased the room. “How do you know our names?” he demanded.

Before she could respond, Dean yelled out from a far corner of the parlor. “Sam, I found Mrs McGregor!”

Y/N closed her eyes. “Oh crap,” she muttered.

“Well?” Sam asked. “Where is she?”

Dean stood up from the corner he was hunched over. “She’s dead,” he said simply.

Y/N felt her heart race and she held her hands up in surrender. “Listen, I can explain-”

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s no explaining a dead body in your house,” Dean interrupted. “Something tells me you’re not keeping it there for décor.”

“You’re a demon aren’t you?” Sam said, his eyes narrowed. He pointed his blade at her and cocked his head.

“Yes. Well, no! A demon has been behind the Riverside murders, but I’m not-”

“Good enough for me!” Dean lunged at Y/N from the right and knocked her to the ground. She gasped for air as she landed on the dense tile. She managed to push him away as she scrambled to stand.

“You need to listen to me,” Y/N said. “I’m not your enemy!” She latched onto the edge of a table, but felt a strong grip pull her back and knock her to the ground once more. She looked up and saw Sam leaning over her, his blade lifted above her chest.

She scratched at his polyester suit and looked at him pleadingly. “Sam, please. You have to believe me!”

He was just about to swing down his weapon when the front door opened with a bang. “What the hell do you idjits think you’re doing?” a voice boomed.

“Hey Bobby.” Y/N managed weakly from underneath Sam. “A little help here?”

The Winchesters turned in awe. “Bobby?” they said in unison.

“In the flesh,” the hunter huffed, bounding over with a scowl. “Boy, lower the shank and get off her before I get over there, myself.”

Sam gulped and raised himself slowly. He offered out a hand sheepishly and helped Y/N to her feet.

Dean took a few steps forward, his brows furrowed. “Alright, what are we missing here?” he asked. “She’s a demon!”

Bobby turned to him with a squint. “She ain’t no demon!” he barked. “She’s my protégé!”

Y/N cleared her throat and waved awkwardly. “Hey guys,” she said. “I’m Y/N. I’m new to the whole hunter thing, so Bobby has been helping me out.”

“When I heard you boys were working a case not far from us, I figured we’d drive over. Have you two give Y/N some pointers,” Bobby explained. “As luck would have it, we stumbled by McGregor’s home. Found her dead.”

Sam looked at Y/N and quirked a brow. “Why didn’t you tell us from the start?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve heard a lot about you two, I just wanted to mess around. Test the legendary Winchesters, you know?”

“That was stupid,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “Never get on Sam and Dean’s bad side.”

“I think I get that now,” Y/N mumbled.

“So just to be clear,” Dean started, with a glint in his eye. “She’s a hunter, and not some dangerous entity from downstairs?” Bobby shot him a look of warning. “Boy-”

Dean waved him off and squeezed himself beside Y/N, pushing Sam aside. “I’ve gotta tell you, I’m so sorry about what my brother did back there. I still tried to tell him to get your side of the story before going all Ghost Face on you with the knife…” Y/N crossed her arms as Dean flashed her a bright smile.

“Are you kidding me Dean?” Sam scoffed. “You’re the one who was pulling out the gun without-”

“Shhh… Give me a second here, Sammy,” Dean hissed before turning back at Y/N. “Anyway, I know a great little bar not too far from here. Maybe we could go for drinks sometime?” He winked and pointed with a snap. “My treat.”

Y/N looked at him, trying to hide her smile. Just five minutes earlier, he was on the verge of killing her over a mistaken identity, and now here he was, flirting shamelessly. She peered over at Bobby rolling his eyes by the front door, and Sam sulking just a few steps away.

“What do you say we take care of the Riverside case first, then maybe we can talk about drinks?”

Not sparing the Winchesters another glance, Y/N squeezed Bobby’s shoulder and walked out the door. She had only discovered the world of the supernatural three months ago, but so much had happened since then. Y/N understood that life as a hunter was dangerous, but damn was it fun…

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

GiveCounting Shoulder a shot!!!

If you’d like to be tagged in any future Supernatural fics, just tell me in the comments… or visit mytaglist! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Supernatural fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Dean, Christmas with TFW series, etc…)

This sort of came to me about an hour ago, so I just had to write it… Sorry if it’s a little jagged, I was in the middle of a study session then *poof* an idea. Okay, back to the books.

Oh, last thing! Their FBI names are from Supertramp…

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!!

tagging the stupendous: @the-chaotic-cow@tuttifuckinfruttifriday@adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan@andthevillainshallrises@justyourlocalwhore@waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @leigh70 @eliwinchester99 @cosbloos@danzalladaggers

@french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

Fri, 04 Mar 2022 15:47:47

♡fluff ∣ ❥ angst ∣ დ hurt/comfort

-ˏˋ REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ˊˎ

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

…

•Rhinestone Cowboy დ

•They Say In Heaven, Love Comes First ❥

•Peppermint Kiss ❥

•Something Borrowed ♡

•Whiskey & Cola ♡

…

•Always By Your Side(valentine’s fic!) ❥

…

• Bleeding Heart (arthur ketch x reader!) ♡

•All To Themselves(sam x reader!) ♡

•Oversight(winchesters x reader!)

•The Winged Victory

(a supernatural x BBC sherlock crossover)

↬ tagging the brilliant: @the-chaotic-cow @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan @andthevillainshallrises @justyourlocalwhore @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @leigh70 @eliwinchester99

↬ PS: I added awesome video links at the top!!!

@french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

Sun, 20 Feb 2022 11:48:15

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Y/N prepares for the perfect Valentine’s day with Dean Winchester…

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

The alarm clock blared and Y/N sat up in bed bleary eyed and fatigued.

She frowned at the ringing and reminded herself that she didn’t need to set the timer anymore. The Bunker had been empty for a while now and she didn’t have much to do without the boys around, anyway.

Y/N looked to her right and saw Dean’s side of the bed was vacant. “You’d think I would be used to that by now…” She stretched with a soft groan and stepped out from under her covers. It wasn’t until she checked her phone that she was finally spurred to action.

The screen read February fourteenth.

She gave a small smile at the date. “Well Dean, looks like you’re in luck!” With a renewed sense of purpose, Y/N set out to get her Valentine’s plans ready.

Every February fourteenth, Dean and Y/N would celebrate the holiday with all its clichés. Chocolate, romcoms, and a couple of beers was all it took to make the day a good one. Though their celebrations were modest, the way they saw it, having each other was enough.

Y/N walked over to her closet and put together an outfit. It was an important day and she had to dress accordingly. Once clothed, she gave a weary smile at her reflection and stepped away.

Y/N ambled down the Bunker’s empty hallways until she reached the main room. She fetched her keys, two bottles of beer she had laid out the night before, and a DVD copy of Say Anything before rushing out the door to meet Dean.

A crisp February wind met her outside and she squinted at the clear sky above. Y/N smiled at the perfect weather and stepped into her car. She turned on the ignition and let out a deep breath “Here I go,” she whispered.

Valentine’s Day, One Year Ago

“Though I respect your affections, couldn’t you perhaps ease your passions?”

Sam entered the room and rolled his eyes. “Guys, come on. Cas is right. Take it easy, we ALL live here.”

Dean and Y/N grinned from their spots on the couch. “It’s just a kiss Sammy. Get over yourself,” Dean chastised.

“You guys are making out in our movie room. It’s not just a kiss,” Sam retorted. He and Castiel weren’t really offended, but liked to nag whenever they could.

Y/N shifted in her seat and kissed Dean’s cheek. “Sorry guys. We can’t help it if we’re hopelessly in love with each other,” she teased.

Dean turned around and kissed her back. “That’s right,” he started. “Hopelesslyanddevastatingly in love…”

Sam and Castiel shared a look as the pair carried on from where they had left off. In each others arms and against each others lips. “Maybe we should-” Cas stammered. Sam nodded. “Right ahead of you.” The angel and the hunter spared a last smile at their friends before leaving the room and locking the door behind them.

“I think they’re gone…” Y/N mumbled mid kiss

Dean pulled back and winked. “I figured that would do the trick.”

Y/N laughed at his callousness and moved away from him. She lay down and settled her head on his lap.

“How’s the view from down there?” he asked.

“Spectacular.”

Dean frowned. “Honestly? You usually hit me with a testy one-liner.”

Y/N shrugged. “I’m serious. I’m getting a great look at the ceiling from this angle…”

“Yup. There it is.”

Y/N giggled. “I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” he laughed, leaning his head back on the couch.

Y/N grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed gently. “You totally did,” she admitted.

They stayed quiet for a moment, comfortable in their easy connection. Dean started humming and Y/N listened as the faint tune carried on. She closed her eyes and smiled. “What are you humming?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

He hesitated and Y/N opened her eyes, taking in the glint in his eye. “Mr. Roboto,” he said carefully. “Styx.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that so?”

“Is that a problem?” Dean asked, glancing down at her.

“You mean, is it a problem that you only ever hum the same ten songs from eons ago?”

Dean raised a brow and hummed louder.

Y/N raised a hand and reached out to touch Dean’s cheek. “I love you,” she whispered. He sighed and leaned into her touch. “I know,” he said softly. “And you have no idea what that means to me.”

Y/N moved to sit up. She looked into his eyes and saw him staring back. “Happy Valentine’s day,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what this year will hold for us.”

Dean leaned forwards and kissed her lightly. “As long as you’re still by my side, I couldn’t give a damn.”

With their favourite movie playing in the background, and plenty of sweets and beer waiting on the table, the two hunters nestled against each other and took comfort in the small moment they shared together.

***

Y/N drove past vast green pastures and earthy plains before finally reaching a sparse forested area. She knew exactly where to find Dean and felt her heart race as she drew nearer to her destination. She parked her car and stepped out, taking her Valentine’s treats with her.

I wonder if Sam has passed by lately… Y/N thought as she walked down a woody path. She could hear the buzzing of insects as she hiked, the unlucky few that hadn’t left for the winter. Their humming sounded suspiciously like Dean’s beloved rock hits… Y/N hiked for the better part of an hour before entering a familiar clearing. It was there that she saw Dean waiting just up ahead, the grin she knew so well tugging at his lips.

“How’s the view from down there?”

Y/N felt her eyes sting as she stepped forwards, a shaky smile on her face. “Dean,” she said softly, “you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“And you have no idea what that means to me.”

Y/N walked towards the clearing’s centre. Her heart ached as she caught a flash of Dean’s laugh. She stopped when she reached a patch of blackened ground.

She knelt down before a heap of scorched wood. It had been months since she’d last been here and the ground was still stained with ash. She laid out the DVD and bottles of beer she had been holding. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispered.

Above Y/N, standing cold and out of place was a pyre. It had been months since she had lost Dean to the vampires and he had been laid to rest. She still remembered the night Sam had driven the Impala home, passenger seat, empty. He had left the Bunker shortly after and she hadn’t heard from him much since then. She winced and cast away the memory, thinking instead of her last Valentine’s with Dean. They had been hopeful then, trusting in their future. He had told her that day that he would be content so long as she stayed by his side.

Y/N looked up to the sky and closed her eyes, reveling in the sun’s soft touch upon her skin. She took a breath and spoke.

“I’m still here.”

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Hey guys! Try reading Whiskey & Cola!

I have no idea why I did this. It sounded like a good idea at first but then by the end it was just too late to turn back. Don’t worry, I’m writing another Dean Winchester V-Day fic as we speak to atone for this one. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY YOU GUYS!!!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!!

tagging the sweet: @the-chaotic-cow @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan @andthevillainshallrises @justyourlocalwhore @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @leigh70 @eliwinchester99

@french-vanilla-in-the-clouds

Mon, 07 Feb 2022 17:48:40

tiedyedragonswrites:

Apex Predator {Demon!Dean AU}
Warnings:You better be 18+ before you read this. DEMON!DEANNON-CONSENSUAL SEX. IMPLIED MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Slight fingering, dubious consent, unprotected vaginal penetration, slight cock-warming, creampie, hints of dominance and submission, orgasms. Possible Stockholm? If I forgot anything, please let me know, I want to make sure readers are aware. Read with caution.
Summary: You are in the bunker with Demon!Dean. Sam has been murdered and the exits are all locked down. No matter how much you run, you can’t escape. He’s hungry and he’s coming for you.
Paring: Demon!Dean x Trapped Fem!Reader
A/N: I am used to writing smut for Demon!Dean, but this time I felt like taking a darker route. D!Dean in his full-on, not giving a shit, no morals style. This story is triggering and is meant to be triggering, so feel free to simply scroll past it if it’s going to offend you.
Please don’t post any of my work anywhere else, do not steal, copy, or use parts of it. I have worked hard on this story and it’s not yours to take.
Word Count: 3.5k
The sounds of Sam’s screams were never going to leave your mind. It was a broken record that played over and over inside your mind. His death seemed like it had taken forever. A part of you blames yourself. If you maybe had been more firm in your stance on this whole situation, Demon Dean wouldn’t be here, Sam would still be alive, and you would be lying in your comfortable bed far away. However, he was insistent, and look where it got him.
Keep reading

@tiedyedragons

Thu, 15 Jul 2021 00:19:07

The Truth

It’s been a while I know but my life is just a hot mess anymore haha. Hope you like it though. :) I’m posting from my phone I’ll add the tag list later today ☺️

Fic Summery: Sophia has never known love, her always picking the “good guy” him always turning out to be like a snake in the weeds. What will happen when she's took home one night by a “bad guy” him showing her things she never knew about herself.

Part Summery: Sophia learns more about the boys and meets Bobby

Warnings: Nothing?

Let me know if you want to be tagged would love to add you: @vicmc624@deanwanddamons@that-one-gay-girl @akshi8278 @loelizabeth100 @nihilismworld@grungebbygurl@lettuceheadjerry@suckmyapplejacks@goddessofmischiefs@naretional @michellethetvadidict @stuckupstucky@olichat

Part 1 Part 11

I don’t know when I fell asleep, or even how I did it. I felt like that’s all I’ve been doing lately. Maybe that’s why I felt so groggy when I woke up.

I woke up in the back of the car. It was dark, rain pitter pattering on the car roof. I was surrounded by different cars, all of them looking abandoned. But I couldn’t see much, the only light came from a street light in the distance.

A crushing weight of abandonment feels my chest as I think I’ve been left behind. The thoughts of Dean saying he would protect me seems like empty promises now.

With my eyes starting to burn I climb out of the car. The rain washes over me in a biting chill. I wrap my arms around myself and with no sense of direction I start to walk towards the light.

It’s not as far as it seems, it’s just behind a tower of crushed cars.

A two story faded blue house stands just a little ways away. Despite the distance I can see the light coming from the windows.

With no other options I walk towards it. Having no idea how late it is and if they would even let in a stranger.

I glup knowing I wouldn’t be able to speak to them. Dean was the only one who could get me to talk and it seemed that he was nowhere around.

By the time I reach the door I’m shivering the cold rain soaking the clothes I’m in. My bare toes aching at the cool weather.

With a shaking hand I lift it to knock on the door, hoping someone would answer.

I jump when the door swings open, Dean standing there with a hooded jacket on his toned frame. A large umbrella in his hand.

I watch his face soften as he sees me. Most likely looking like a drowned rat.

“Oh, Kitten. I was just about to come get you. Come in here and let’s dry you off.” He says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into the house.

It is considerably warmer than outside. The inside of the house is cluttered but homey at the same time. Books and papers are littered on every surface.

Sam is sitting at the folding card table in the kitchen, an older man is standing by him.

“Who is she?” The older man asks, looking at me like I was a threat.

“Dean new damsel in distress. You know my brother and his savior complex.” Sam says, making me wonder what I did to make him not like me.

“Shut it Sammy.” Dean says, pulling me around the corner into the next room. Towards the lit fireplace.

“Come on Sophia, let’s get you warm.” Dean says placing me right in front of the flames.

I instantly start to relax as the heat wraps around my body.

“I’ll get you something to drink.” Dean says peeling off his jacket and placing it on my shoulders.

I smiled at him. Wondering how I could ever think he forgot about me. Of course Dean wouldn’t abandon me.

As he walks off I hear him whisper something to someone, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching me.

I turn around seeing the older man just a few feet away from me.

“Well seeing as you’re in my house I think you ought’ to know my name.” He says holding his hand out to me.

“Bobby Singer, paranoid bastard.” He shocked me with his introduction.

Despite it I take his hand and shake it, smiling at him.

“You’re a quiet one huh?”

“She doesn’t talk.” Dean says joining us, handing me a cup of coffee.

“What for?” Bobby asks, looking at me. Like he expects me to answer.

Gluping I shrug, knowing why but it was hard to explain.

“Her last boyfriend was an abusive dick is why.” Dean says sipping his coffee casually like he didn’t just say what he just said.

“Ahh.” Bobby says, nodding his head.

“Well, did you boys teach him a lesson?”

“Not yet.” Dean says winking, making an uncomfortable feeling settle in my stomach.

“But enough about that. Let’s get down to business.” Dean says, as Sam walks into the living room with us. Him holding his own cup of jo.

“Do you trust her?” Bobby asks, jerking his head towards me.

I sigh hating being talked about like I wasn’t there but what was to be expected when I was mute all the time.

“Like he said. She doesn’t talk. Dean’s the only one she will talk to.” Sam says, making me blush.

I drop my head feeling embarrassed.

“She just needs some time to get back on her feet. I’m helping her, yes I trust her. She doesn’t know anything about what we do but she’s on our side. Right Sophia?” Dean asks, making me look up at him.

I nod my head with a smile, having no idea what he was talking about but clearly they were into something shady. But I expected that when I went to work with Dean. When they were selling something that seemed impossible to own.

But I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Even if I could, Dean and Sam had been nothing but good to me. I wouldn’t betray them. I just knew I wouldn’t.

“Alright if you idjits trust her, that’s good enough for me. Now let’s get down to business.” He says taking one more swig of his drink and moving to turn towards a large book with a bunch of numbers on it.

It was a records book of some kind.

Dean smiles at me, both him and Sam finding a place to sit. Bobby sitting behind the desk, closes to me. Even though I was still cold I moved away from the fire to sit next to Dean on the couch.

“Lucky for you Cas gave you a heads up on the ones hunting your asses.” Bobby says looking at Sam like he was in trouble.

“Going after Dick Roman alone was stupied even for you.”

“I got close.” Sam says, looking away clearly annoyed.

“Close ain’t close enough. I thought I taught you better than that.” Bobby says, making me wonder if he was their father.

I look at Dean wondering what they were talking about. Who was Dick Roman? Did Sam try to kill him? Was the blood on Sam’s shoe human?

A sinking feeling of realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Sam and Dean were murderous.

“So what do you want us to do?”

“It ain’t up to me. Your father left the family business to you boys. You made the mess, you get to fix it.” Bobby says, pointing at Sam.

“It was a mistake Bobby. But mistakes can be fixed.” Dean says sitting up straighter.

“We need a plan. Get rid of the heat off of Cas before that chief Naomi fires him and business can go back to usual.”

“What stealing and selling rare artifacts to Bella so she can make more of a profit then you boys? John might not have been father of the year but he started this to help people not just make a quick buck.” Bobby says scolding them.

I was more confused than I have been in a long time but I couldn’t help listening to them. Trying to figure out what was going on.

“So what do you suggest?” Dean asks, seeming to honestly want Bobby’s advice.

“Break him down from the bottom up. Take what matters most and we can watch Dick shrivel.”

“Alright? Where do we start?” Sam asks.

Bobby digs through the book in hand and pulls out a picture sliding it over to Sam. I couldn’t really tell but it looked like a picture of a dock.

“These are empty shipping containers that are going to be full of drugs, guns you name it this weekend. But that’s not what I’m interested in. Dick’s got kids he plans on putting on one of them. Gonna trade them for something. Don’t know, don’t care. But there are folks kids about to be taken forever and that doesn’t sit right with me.”

“When do we start?” Dean says his jaws locked, Sam’s forehead wrinkled in worry but both of them looked different.

Like they were ready for battle, ready to do anything. Ready to kill.

I didn’t know what this was, or what I got myself into. What did Bobby call it?

The family business?

Either way, I was in it and didn’t see a way out.

It didn’t take long for them to hatch out a plan as if they had done this a hundred times. Sam and Dean decided to stop the kids from ever getting to the docks and if that didn’t work, worse case they could just break the kids out.

I didn’t understand what was going on. Luckily for me it seemed I didn’t have to. No one asked for my input or help. The three men moving around the room talking about so many illegal things as if they were talking about the weather.

I sat on the couch watching them. I should have been more freaked out I know but I wasn’t. I ran away from Sam just because he had blood on his shoe but listening to these men talk about busting open shipping containers and stealing the contents didn’t phase me.

I’m sure there was something messed up in my head. All the beatings from Harry most likely did some damage up there.

Or maybe I was just numb to it all. Yelling and violence was the only thing that seemed to scare me.

I was in no danger with these men. They were clearly criminals, clearly what people would say bad men but despite knowing that.

Despite knowing that Sam definitely tried and might have killed someone and Dean helped cover it and Bobby seemed like the crazed uncle that was behind the whole thing and to top it all off I was a vulnerable mute. I felt safe. Safe enough to pull my feet up under me, curling up and falling asleep.

When I woke up the house was silinet. It is still dark out. The only noise was from the crackling fireplace and soft breathing.

I sat up looking around me to see the only other person was Dean sleeping on the floor beside me.

I look at the clock on the wall seeing it’s just a little past two in the morning. I laid my head back down on the arm of the couch knowing I should go back to sleep but I was wide awake.

I lay there, tossing and turning for a bit trying to get more comfortable but nothing was working. Seeing that it was now fifteen past three I knew there was no chance I was going back to sleep. Sitting up again I let out a frustrated sigh.

I flinch when I hear how loud it was, my eyes snapping to Dean. I frown at myself seeing his green irises staring at me.

“You okay?” He asks softly unlike my loud mouth.

I nod looking down at him.

“S-sorry.” I force out wanting him to know I didn’t mean to wake him.

“S’okay.” He says sitting up, the blanket over him falling to show his bare chest..

He yawns, lifting his arms over his head showing his toned body. I flush, realizing I have never seen this much of him.

I turn my head, not wanting him to catch me looking. It clearly is not working when I hear a chuckle.

“You know I don’t care if you look right?” He says standing up.

I take a breath and look up at him towering over my body. I only came to his waist from sitting on the couch.

“I’m gonna get something for us to drink and then maybe you can try going back to sleep okay?” He asks using his fingers to tuck my hair behind my ear.

I nod and smile at him, butterflies feeling my stomach from his simple touches.

He smiles at me and turns to head towards the kitchen. From there I sat. I could see him open the fridge but I could see what he grabbed.

It only takes him a moment for him to return with a beer in one hand and an orange juice for me.

I blush, smiling that he bothered to remember that I liked it. Taking it from him I take a sip of the cool tart liquid sliding down my throat with ease.

Dean sits to the right of me taking a drink of his own beverage. Us sitting on the couch in siliance for a moment or two.

“Did you just say sorry?” He asks out of the blue, making me turn to look at him.

I nod confused by his sudden question.

“That’s what I thought I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I have dreams about you talking to me all the time.” He says, surprising me by his honesty.

He never seemed to mind being open about what he thought that was for sure.

Yawning he runs his hand across his face, something he does when he’s tired I noticed. I don’t know what gave me the courage to do it but I reach my left hand out and place it on his thigh patting it.

He looks down at my hand then up at me, giving me a playful smile.

“Careful Sophia, I might think you’re flirting with me.” He says teasing.

I knew he was joking but that doesn’t stop me from blushing.

I try to pull my hand away but he grabs it pulling me closer to him with it.

“Come’re.” He says pushing his words together, something else he seems to do when he’s tried.

I do as he asks setting my glass down and crawling over to him

He lets go of my hand dropping his grip to my hip, him using it to guide me to sit on his lap. I blush from the intimate possession but I don’t protest. Knowing Dean would never do anything I didn’t want to do.

He reaches up grabbing my face gently with both hands, him pushing my hair out of my face.

“You know you’re a very good girl right Sophia?” He asks, his question catching me off guard.

My body also catches me off guard by the flip my stomach does.

I don’t know how to respond to that even if I did talk but Dean doesn’t seem to mind. Dean pulls me closer to him, lowering my head down until our foreheads are pressed together.

He closes his eyes shut for a moment making me wonder what’s going on inside him.

“The things I would do to you…” He whispers under his breath making something deep inside me ache.

“But I can’t…” He says letting out a sigh, it’s a sigh of disappointment.

“It’s not a good idea. But I’ve never been known to be the one to do the right thing.”

I wrinkle my forehead completely confused on what he’s getting at.

I didn’t have time to process it either. Dean tilting his head just enough so his lips touched mine. They were soft, but firm. Just like how he was. A gentleness to him that made you want to fall into him. Trust him completely.

It was a scary feeling if I’m honest. Something I couldn’t understand. How I could trust him as much as I do given everything that has happened between me and Harry.

Maybe it was because he was so honest with everything. Maybe it was because he acted like he was the messed up one. Maybe it was because despite him seeing me broken he still decided to help me.

I don’t know what it was but no matter what I couldn’t deny that I trusted him. More than I’ve trusted anyone for a long time.

Mon, 07 Feb 2022 07:29:19

The Mark Part 6

This is part 6 of The Mark it is set in Dean’s POV

Fic Summary: AU where everyone is born with half a mark on their body. The other half being on their mates body.

Part Summary: Amora and Dean learn a few things about each other.

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?

Let me know if you want to be tagged.@fariesandwanderlust @all-will-be-well-love@akshi8278

Part 1 Part 5

I watch Amora pull away from me after I look at the scars on her wrist. I had the exact same ones on mine but she was the one who put them there. I wandered over why for months afterwards and every time I remembered they were there. What happened, what was so bad that made her do that to herself?

“So tell me a bit about you.” She says smiling at me. It makes her eyes light up.

“There’s not much to tell.” I say to stall knowing that there was more than enough to tell. But she wouldn’t believe any of it. I couldn’t even believe this was happening. How did I get marked to a human?

“How about you? Tell me about you.” I say leaning back into the couch.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” I say realizing I meant it. I wanted to know everything about her.

She blushes, her teeth digging into her lip before she looks up to meet my eyes with hers. Their ash blue is so bright compared to my emerald eyes.

“I was born and raised here, well not here in this house. I moved here when I was fourteen after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry.” I say understanding her loss.

“Don’t be, it happened a long time ago.” She says waving it off, but in truth it only happened eight years ago. My mother died when I was four and it still feels like it happened yesterday.

“What did your parents do? If you don’t mind me asking.” I say remembering why I came here in such a rush.

Hunters didn’t get marked to humans, same way hunters didn’t get marked to royals. There was not interbreeding. It just didn’t, couldn’t happen.

“Oh umm my mom was a teacher, my dad a macainic why?”

“Just wondering.”

Her parents must have been hunters that left life. It was rare but it happens.

“What about you?”

“Both my parents were hunters.”

“Hunters?” She qustions making me feel stupid for not thinking before I talked.

“It’s what we call the guard. We hunt down all the bad, evil people.” I say it in a vague way of telling her what I did.

“Oh right. Guess that explains why you are in it huh?”

“Well I’m not really good at much else.” I say shrugging.

“I doubt that.”

I met her eye, lifting my brow at that statement. Wondering what she meant by that.

She smiles and shrugs answering my unasked question.

“You just seem like you would be good at a lot of things.”

“Thanks sweetheart but don’t overestimate me, you’ll give me a big head.” I say watching as her cheeks turn pink.

When ringing fills the air she jumps and quickly pulls her phone out of her pocket.

“Hello?” She says, answering it.

She mouths I’m sorry as she stands up and takes a few steps away from me.

“No, I’m kinda busy at the moment.” She says her eyes, bouncing back to me.

I smile at her, she blushes and turns her back to as if I was distracting her.

“I have someone over. No, I understand that’s no reason to be late for my job but-.” She says to what I guess is her boss.

I used this time to look at her, I kinda felt like a creep for checking her out while she wasn’t looking but I couldn’t help it.

She was beautiful. Her hair was red and reaching down to her waist. Not red like Clarks but cherry red. Reminding me of blood or pie. She had wide hips that I wanted to wrap my arms around. She was curvy in all the right places. I never let myself think about my mate thinking I would never find her but I was more than happy with what I was given. Her tight jeans let me see her thick thighs and round butt.

“Sorry about that.” She says turning to face me again.

My eyes jump to her above average chest, her tank top showing it off well. I quickly looked at her face not wanting her to know what I was doing.

“It’s fine.” I say smiling at her.

“Well my boss is pissed at me.” She says plopping down next to me, her knee bumping mine.

I smile, liking that she already seemed comfortable with me.

“So where were we?” She asks, looking at me with her dusty blue eyes meeting mine.

“Getting to know each other I guess.” I say trying to sound more confident than I was.

My heart was racing and all I could think about was pulling her into my arms. I finally had someone that would truly love me. I have a family of my own now.

“You didn’t hear me did you?” She asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I’m sorry what?” I ask, making her giggle.

It makes my stomach flip from the sound. I wanna roll my eyes at myself for how pathetic I feel. I was like a love struck puppy.

“I said, are we asking normal questions or personal ones?”

She says tucking her hair behind her ear, her face red.

“Oh.” I say it is my turn to blush my mind going to all the dirty questions I could ask her.

“Either is fine.” I say smiling at her.

“Okay umm I would say what’s your birthday but I guess I know that one.” She says grinning.

“Yeah I would say so.” I say knowing we share the same birthday right down to the second.

She smiles at me, chewing on her lip softly.

“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?”

“Guess so.”

I smile at her and nod my head.

“What is it that you really want to ask?” I ask her knowing she has something on her mind. I don’t know how I know but I can just tell by looking at her.

“I umm it’s…nevermind.” She says, shaking her head and looking down at her fingers.

“It’s okay, go ahead. I’m an open book.” I doubt her question could be very important.

Or at least not enough to scare her off. I hope so.

“Have you umm had sex?” She asks, her cheeks flushed.

I lift an eyebrow not expecting that question from her. The royals teaching not to have sex until you find your mate so why would she think I might have had sex.

“Yes.” I say answering truthfully. Hunters weren’t so weird about that order from God. Being on the road was lonely, hunters understood it. It wasn’t like you ever had to worry about one of your children running around that you didn’t know about.

The only person who could ever carry my child was sitting in front of me. The person who would be the mother of my children. The woman I just made her face drop and sadness filled her eyes.

“Oh.” She nodded her head like she understood.

It made me wonder how she would.

#the mark #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural

Sat, 20 Nov 2021 00:00:35

What did I get myself into?

This is part 11 of Kitten.
Here is the next part trying to work in the new story line my brain picked for this story. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

Part Summery: Sam tells Sophia the truth only for him to make her forget it all.

Warnings: Nothing?

Part 1 Part 10

“Sit. We need to talk.” Sam says, looking more threatening than I have ever seen him.

Gulping and feeling like I didn’t have a choice I walked over to him and sat in the chair he pushed out with his foot.

He sits up straighter, popping his neck and rolling his shoulders like he has been there a while. Maybe he has. I locked myself up in my room for hours.

“We have a few things to talk about. First, what you think you saw earlier, I’ll explain.” He says picking up the leather bound journal beside him.

I jump when he throws it at me and it lands in my lap.

“That’s our dad’s. Mine and Dean’s. That’s what he left us when he finally went off the rails. I’m sure you know by now me and Dean aren’t your average joes. We are the head of a rather big mob.” He says making me surprised and hurt.

Dean wasn’t as innocent as I was led to believe.

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand it. But if you are going to stay here and be with Dean you will have to get used to us coming home bloody from time to time.” He says making me blush, from him saying I was with Dean also from being confused.

“Dean likes you. More than I’ve seen him like anyone in a very long time. I would like it if you stayed. For his sake. But you can’t go running off anytime something scary happens. We deal with scary things everyday. We will protect you. You are safe here but you will need to learn.” He says his brow wrinkled from how serious he looks.

Sighing he sits up straighter.

“It’s complicated with you being here. Dean normally keeps his pets away from here. Only letting them stay here on the weekends. I’m not used to having to pretend to be someone I’m not.”

My head spins with the information trying to understand what he was saying. I look at the book in my hands tempted to open it but also not wanting to.

All I knew was Sam had blood on him. Blood that wasn’t his. He was acting like that was normally and that wasn’t. I had to leave but where would I go? What would I do?

Despite everything, all I wanted to do was go to Dean. He would explain it. He always explained everything to me.

‘Why didn’t I just let him do that in the first place?’ I think feeling dumb all of a sudden.

“Sophia.” Sam says, making me look up at him. His big brown eyes softened.

“I’m sorry, I get a little domante when I’m trying to make a point. I just want you to stay here. My brother is happy, something he hasn’t been for a long time. Since we were kids.” He says, ringing his hands.

“I’m not going to force you into staying but think about it. I’ll explain everything. Dean doesn’t have to know. He doesn’t want you to know about the wicked world we live in. Not that I blame him. He’s scared about running you off with the things he likes in the bedroom let alone the things he does for work. Just forget this talk happened. I promise I didn’t hurt anyone. Well, anyone bad… I’ll try to keep myself blood free from now on.” He says smiling a boyish smile.

“Do you think you can stay?”

I glup, feeling overwhelmed. Fear, confusion, regret, and a whole mess of other things swam inside my head.

“Here let me get you some water.” Sam says quickly jumping up.

He walks over to the corner of the room where a mini fridge sits, bringing me a bottle of water. Twisting the lid off he hands it to me.

I smiled, taking it from him, hoping it helped settle my thoughts. I took a drink and was surprised at how good it tasted. Knowing I was asleep for a long time I took another drink, this one longer than the first one.

I blink when my head starts swimming. Suddenly feeling like my head weighs a hundred pounds I try to hold it up only for everything to go black.

I wake up on the bathroom floor feeling exhausted. My head and body are aching. Sitting up I try to remember what happened. Sam had blood on his shoe. Human blood?

Standing up I stumble to the door and then through my room. I open the bedroom door stopping when I see Dean sleeping against the wall.

I leave my bedroom door open and walk down the hall trying to make my way to the exit. When I reach the steps that lead outside I stop when I see Sam, him dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hey, you’re awake.” He says smiling softly at me.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“I’m sure you are scared of me after what you saw. I want to explain.” He says putting his hands in his pockets.

“I ran over a cat. I got out to help it, it belonged to some old lady and I packed it inside her house for her. I got blood all over my suit but I had an extra one in the car I just picked up from the cleaners. But no extra shoes, that’s why they had blood on them.” He says calmly, his brown eyes never leaving mine.

I take a breath not knowing if I should believe him or not.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks, walking down the hall, him looking just as sleepy as I felt. His hair in messy tuffs around his head.

“I was just explaining to Sophia how I got blood on me. From the cat I hit yesterday.” Sam says looking over at Dean.

“Oh, yeah sorry about him scaring you. I would have explained but you wouldn’t let me in.” Dean says, looking at me, his green eyes meeting mine. The sensarty in them makes me calm down a bit.

“You’ve been in your room for a while. Do you want some food?” He asks gently.

“I can make us some food.” Sam smiles timidly at me.

Still feeling a bit confused I nod my head not having any reason not to trust them.

“Come on?” Dean questions holding his hand out to me, a question on his face.

I take his hand letting him lead me to the kitchen. Sam flips on the light as we walk in and goes to the fridge, while Dean gently pulls me to sit down next to him at the table.

“Like I said, I’m really sorry about scaring you.” Sam says bring me a glass of water.

“You think you could find it in your heart to forgive me?” He says softly.

I look up at him, not finding a cruel fleak in his eyes. I nod, earning a smile.

“Thank you. I promise not to do it again.”

“Oh Sam hush and get to cooking I’m starving.” Dean says waving off his baby brother.

It doesn’t take long for Sam to make us some oatmeal and egg whites.

While Dean complains about the healthy food I eat my own breakfast.

“I think you should stay home today. Sophia was pretty shaken up last night. I can cover your work for you.” Sam says talking to Dean.

“That would be great thanks.” Dean says smiling at his little brother.

They continue to talk as I eat slowly. Neither of them seem to mind. Nothing seems weird or out of place then any other time I have eaten with them. I quickly realized that I over reacted to what I saw yesterday.

Sam wasn’t a killer. He was too sweet to be.

After we ate we all helped clean up something I found oddly nice. Glad that Sam wasn’t cleaning up after me anymore.

Sam went to get ready for work while me and Dean went back to my room. I still felt tired despite sleeping so long but I guess sleeping on a bathroom floor would do that.

I climb into bed, Dean joining me after grabbing the coloring book, crayons, notepad and pens.

“I think we should have a talk. If that’s okay?”

I nod but Dean grabs my chin stopping me.

“Use your words Kitten.” He says softly yet sternly.

“Yes.” I say after swallowing hard.

“Good girl.” He says grinning.

“I want to talk to you about what happened yesterday.” He says letting go of my face and handing me the notepad and a pen.

“Not about Sam hitting a cat but about what happened between me and you.” He says, making me blush.

That seemed like so long ago but it was only yesterday. I nod telling him I’m ready to talk about it.

“I’m gonna be honest, I would like to do it again and more than that. But I’ll do it if you are ready. If you want to.”

“Yes.” I nod proud of myself for speaking again but I open my mouth wanting to say more.

“But? You’re shy?” Dean questions me gently, not in a mocking way.

I shake my head, Dean hands me the notebook and pen.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what to do or what you want from me.’ I write out.

He reads it, nods and hands me the notebook back.

He smiles gently.

“I can show you what to do. One of my favorite things to do honestly. We can take it slow.” He says, sighing, running his hands through his hair.

“Honestly I’m a bit worried about scaring you.”

I shake my head, not scared of Dean. Him the only person I’ve felt safe with in a very long time.

He smiles softly, lifting his hand he gently touches my face.

Leaning towards me I close my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. His lips brush mine in a sweet gentle kiss.

I feel myself melt as my face heats up.

I hear him take a deep breath and pull away from me. His green eyes bore into mine making my stomach tangle up in knots.

Lifting his hand he gently strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“You’re-.” Dean starts to say but is cut off by Sam barging through the door.

“We gotta go!” He says looking frantically at Dean, making Dean jump from the bed.

I quickly follow his actions as Dean and Sam run down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks, running behind Sam.

“Just got a call from Cas. Apparently he’s getting some heat from helping me last night. He lied and said it wasn’t me, that we are out of town. Cops are on the way to search the place. We gotta go now. Make it seem like we haven’t been here in a few days.” Sam spills out, throwing a duffle at Dean, it is already packed.

I’m shocked at the information I’m getting but I don’t have time to process it. Dean grabbed my wrist to pull me with him.

“You’re taking her?” Sam asks, shocked.

“Dude she barely speaks, you think the people that are looking for us are going to believe that she can’t? They’ll do more than hurt her to get to us and you know it.” He says, he words making me feel sick.

With that said he pulls me along with him. Sam is not saying anything else but he doesn’t look happy.

Dean opens the back car door, throws his bag in it and then holds it open for me. I stop and look up at him, scared to get into the fear of what’s going to happen next.

Sighing, Dean looks at me, his face wrinkled with anxiety.

“Come on Kitten. You’ll be safe with us. I’ll explain everything I promise, but we gotta go. Right now.” He says his worried eyes convince me of the urgency.

I answered him by climbing into the car and shutting the door behind me. Sam is already in the front seat. Dean jogs around the car and gets behind the wheel.

As he starts the engine and pulls out of the garage. He takes off his tires spinning from his speed. As we zoom down the street the car in silence I can’t help but think.

‘What did I get myself into?’

#kitten #what did i get myself into #dean fanfic #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x oc #dean winchester x you #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean

Wed, 17 Nov 2021 10:07:39

This is part 10 of Kitten.
I know it’s been a while since I posted anything. I’m sorry about that. Life is crazy. Anyways. Here is the next part please don’t hate me for it. It’s not what I planed on writing but writers block sucks. Hope you like it.

Part Summery: Sophia suspects the truth about the brothers and what they really do for work.

Warnings: Blood.

Let me know if you want to be tagged would love to add you: @vicmc624@deanwanddamons@that-one-gay-girl@akshi8278 @loelizabeth100 @nihilismworld@grungebbygurl@lettuceheadjerry@suckmyapplejacks@goddessofmischiefs@naretional @michellethetvadidict @stuckupstucky@olichat

Part 1 Part 9

After we ate dinner Dean led me back to my room. Him casually talking about things that didn’t matter. I knew he was doing it for my benefit to help me relax.

But before we could get down the hall the door opened at the top of the steps Sam walked inside.

He turns to see us, greeting us with a simple Hey.

I smile and wave back thinking about trying to reply but stop myself. Wanting to save my words for Dean. Well at least for now.

“Dinners in the kitchen.” Dean says, nodding his head towards that direction.

“Thanks.” Sam says, taking a breath as he reaches the bottom of the steps. Him running his fingers through his hair.

“Everything okay?” Dean asks, prompting me to look Sam over.

I stop when I spot a dark stain on Sam’s shoe. It was dried telling me it’s been there at least an hour.

That also made me realize that Sam was wearing different clothes. He was still dressed in a nice suit but it was a different color than before. Faint scratches were on his neck as well.

There was blood on Sam’s shoe. Why?

I felt a wave of fear run through me as I took a step away from him.

“What’s wrong Sophia?” Dean asks, turning to face me.

I ignore his question only pointing to Sam’s shoe. My stomach drops when Dean looks at it, seeming to be unfazed.

Sam look’s down and clenches his jaw as he looks back up at me.

“Look, it’s not what you think.” He says taking a step towards me but I ignore him.

Turning a bolt down the hall my mind screamed at me to run to get out of here as fast as I could.

I ran as fast as I could hearing both Dean and Sam call after me. Reaching my bedroom I close the door behind me, locking it and moving to slam the desk against it.

I frantically look around for something to defend myself with suddenly not wanting to be around either of them. Every shady thing the brothers did came to mind all at once.

I was living with bad men. Killers it seemed.

I jump and even scream as someone knocks on the door.

“Sophia, it’s me. Calm down.” Dean says his voice is gentle and even.

“Sophia I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain.” Sam says, him sounding just as kind. Even a bit sad.

I shake my head as if they can see me and run to lock myself into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.

I hear them knocking and trying to get me to open the door so I cover my ears to block out the sound.

Tears stream down my face as I picture them breaking down the door and dragging me out to kill me too.

I knew too much right? What did I expect? Trusting complete strangers I met at a club. The banging gets louder, making me cry out in fear and sobs.

I never saw either of them angry but I was about to. Curling up tighter into a ball I can only blame myself for my fate.

But neither of them come. Soon the sound of their muffled voices and knocking stop. Only the sound of my crying is left. I stay that way crying myself to sleep.

When I wake up I’m still in the bathroom, it feels like hours have passed. My stomach twisted in hunger telling me maybe it was longer than that.

Sitting up from the hard floor I move to my feet and open the bathroom door seeing the desk is exactly where I left it. Pushed against the door.

I walk cautiously towards it half expecting them to still be standing there. I look over at the clock to see it’s well past midnight. Nearly five in the morning.

I wonder if Sam and Dean left for work. Work? What really was their job? Dean said it wasn’t exactly legal. What did that mean?

I push the desk back into it’s palace quietly hoping they are gone and I could get out of here. The thought of leaving fills me with mixed emotions. I wanted out, scared they were gonna hurt me but I also wanted to stay the feelings I was growing for Dean still very much there. It also didn’t help that they saved me.

Opening the door slowly I jump seeing Dean there but I quickly realize he was sleeping. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his bend down. Gently snores leave his mouth making me wonder how long he’s been there.

Since I locked myself inside my room most likely.

I leave my bedroom door open and walk down the hallway not really sure what my plan was.

Was I leaving? Where would I go? Was I going to stay? I didn’t really know either one of them.

I carefully move down the hall towards the exit. The whole bunker is pitch black except for the red lights lighting my path along the wall.

Walking past the kitchen I ignore the very loud growl my stomach lets out. I jump when a light clicks on my head snapping to the source.

Sam sits at the wooden tables, the lamp in the middle being turned on by him. Him most likely hearing my stomach.

He looks as if he’s been up all night, a deadly serious look on his face.

I glup at the sight of him, scared of what he will do to me.

He pushes a chair away from the table, pointing to it.

“Sit. We need to talk.”

A/N
Do you want me to add some supernatural things to this fic? Do you want some Sophia x Sam action? Thank you for reading :)

#kitten #supernatural dean #supernatural dean winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean x yn #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x oc #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #dean fanfic #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #second thoughts

Wed, 25 Aug 2021 17:30:24

This is part 4 of Angel Eyes sorry for not posted in ages. But I found this on a flash drive from like 2017 so I edited and thought I should post it. I hope you like it.

Fic Summary: This is backstory to kind help people understand Dean and Callie’s relationship. Sam, Dean and Callie go get tattoos :P

Dean Winchester x OC Claudia

Warnings: Language maybe?

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged. @magssteenkamp@deanwanddamons@lemondropirwin@vicmc624 @lilulo-12@eternalevie@all-will-be-well-love@akshi8278

Part 1 Part 3

Walking into the bathroom I bent over untying my boots. Kicking them off I stood up and met my green eyes in the mirror. Reaching up to take my hair down I stopped when there was no longer a black string around my wrist. I quickly opened the bathroom door shocking Sam he was behind it and I almost hit him.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked dropping his bags by the door and walking up to me. I was taken back when he grabbed my arms softly as if I was going to pass out.

“I lost my antipossion charm.” I say biting my lip.

“You what?” Dean and Sam asked, clearly mad.

“I didn’t mean to. It was on my wrist and I guess it must have broke.”

“Great, what are we going to do now? I doubt Booby just has another one laying around.” Dean asked, throwing up his arm and walking away from me.

“Even if he did, who says she wont lose it again.” Sam says sitting on the bed.

“I’m right here, ya know. Maybe it’s in the hotel room.”

“We just got here. I doubt you lost it in the past five minutes.” Sam said.

“Well it’s not like I can just tattoo the thing to me.” I said throwing up my arms and moving to the door shutting it, probably a little too rough., but I hate being treated like I’m five.

“Wait a minute.” Dean says, making me turn to face him.

“Why not get it tattooed. It would get rid of having to keep up with it. And plus its one sure way, no demon would ever get into us ever again.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” I say agreeing. “I always wanted to get a tattoo anyways.” I say shrugging.

“And what if I don’t.” Sam says standing up.

“Oh come on Sammy it’s common sense, to get one.” Dean says lifting his hands.

“Yeah, it’s the smart thing to do.” I say smiling, getting butterflies about the thought of getting tattooed.

“Oh and what are we meant to tell the person that does it?” Sam asks.

“The truth. It looks like some tribal tattoo that people walk around with all the time. The worse case they think we are weirdos but there still going to do it.” I say sitting down beside Dean on the bed.

“Callie is right, money is money. They don’t care as long as they get paid.”

“What if they only take cash?”

Sighing I throw my head back hitting Dean’s shoulder.

“Then we go to the bar, play a little pool and go back. With cash. Why are you so against getting a tattoo?” I ask

“Yeah, Sammy it can be on your ass for all I care.” Dean says laying back on the bed’s headboard making me fall, sence I was still leaning on him.

Glaring up at him I sat back up, only getting a small laugh out of him.

“How do we even know it will work?”

Sighing again I laid back on Dean’s legs reaching back to grab my phone off the nightstand. Flipping it open I pressed 3 it calling Bobby.

“Callie, it’s 1AM what the hell do you want?” Bobby answered sound sleepy and mad.

“Sorry Bobby. I didn’t realize it was so late but I have a important question.”

“About what?” He said trying to be helpful but not hiding his anger.

“The charms you gave us. If we tattoo the symbol to ourselves will that work the same as wearing them?”

“What kind of idjit are you? Of course it will work. Next time you decide to bother me while I’m sleeping make sure it’s a damn good question.”

“Sorry Bobby, just wanted to make sure.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’ll let you go back to sleep. Good night Bobby. Sweet Dreams.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He says hanging up.

“He is mean when he is sleepy.” I say looking up at Dean as I close my phone.

“What did he say?” Sam asked.

“Looks like your getting inked up, buttercup.” I say smiling at him.

Sighing, he clenched his jaw.

“I’ll be in the car. Hurry up.” He says walking out to the car grabbing his jacket as he went.

“I think he needs a nap. He is a little grumpy.” I say looking back up at Dean.

“I think you’re right. Better not keep him waiting.” He says smiling, clearly enjoying this as much as me.

Sitting up I walk to the bathroom grabbing my shoes and sitting on the tub to put them back on.

“Where do you think I should get it?” Dean asked leaning against the door frame to the bathroom.

Looking up at the ceiling I bit my lip, thinking of where a tattoo would look good on Dean. The first thing was anywhere. Shaking away that thought. I thought of where I like tattoos on guys.

“Hmm… Shoulder, shoulder blade, or chest.” I say tying my boot and pulling on the other one.

“What about you. Where are you going to get it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want it super viable. Like I don’t want to have to worry about people being like what’s that?”

“I think you should get it on your ribs.” Dean says as I finish tying the other boot.

“Why the ribs. That’s the worse place to get a tattoo.” I say standing up and walking out of the bathroom, feeling Dean follow me.

“Well one because it’s hot and two I know you can take the pain.” He says making blood rush to my cheeks.

“Is that so?” I ask turning to face him, a smirk finding my lips.

I almost smack myself for how flirty that sounds but it’s hard not to when you have Dean in front of you.

“Yeah. You’re kinda a badass.” He says smirking and winking at me.

I laugh softly, him joining me. Rolling my eyes I shake my head a little.

“Maybe.” I say walking to the door, stepping out into a soft sprinkle.

“Rain!” I say smiling up at the sky loving the cool drops on my heated cheeks.

“What was about not being five?” Dean asked behind me and pinched my side, making me jerk a little.

“Shut up.” I say sticking my tongue out at him, earning a laugh.

I jump when Baby’s horn goes off. Looking at Dean’s price postion I see Sam sitting in the front seat looking like a parent who just cought his child having sex.

“Again, I repeat, grumpy.” I say looking back at Dean and stepping off the curb to get into the car.

“Why not bug him a little more.” Dean says opening the driver door for me.

Taking the hint I get in and move to the middle, Sam clenching his jaw making me laugh.

“Oh don’t be so grumpy. It’s only a little seat sharing.” I say poking his hard jaw.

“Just can we get this over with?”

“Damn Sam, Bobby is not the only one that’s mean when he is tired.” Dean says starting the car backing out.

“I just want to get this done so I can take a shower and get a few hours in before I have to get up in the morning.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to run before dawn.” I say shrugging.

One look from Sam is enough to make me shut up and hold up my hands as a surender. I lean into Dean to get away from Sam before he bursts a blood vessel. Feeling bad for now getting up front, for wanting to bug him more.

Maybe feeling the same or seeing Sam’s face. Dean lays his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, giving Sam as much space as he can get with all of us up front. Leaning into Dean’s side I close my eyes and just listen to the rain picking up and hitting the Impala’s roof. Moving his arm down, I shift slightly laying my head on Dean’s shoulder, feeling completely relaxed. No not relaxed. At home.

When Dean’s neck starts vibrating with him humming I let myself enjoy it till the point of my eyes don’t want to stay open anymore.

I softly smack Dean’s chest, making him stop.

“What was that for?” He asks sounding shocked.

“You’re making me fall asleep.” I say a yawn leaving my mouth, making a laugh leave Dean’s.

“Dean, maybe we should go back to the motel. Let Callie sleep.”

“Oh your not getting out of this that easy, buttercup.” I say sitting up and looking at him, making me slightly dizzy but I ignore it, it fading quickly.

“Yeah, because we are here.” Dean says pulling into the parking lot of a tattoo and piercing shop.

Getting out of the car, I quickly follow Dean to escape the picking up rain.

“Welcome. What can I do for you?” Asks the tattooed bearded main at the front desk.

“Hi, we’re looking to get a tattoo. We heard this was the place to come.” Dean says, making the man laugh.

“Well that’ll be right. I’m Chet, nice to meet you.” Chet says holding out his hand to Dean.

“Dean.” He says taking it.

“And you Miss?” He asks looking down at me.

“Callie.” I say waving and smiling.

“And the tall fella?” He asks looking over me at Sam.

“Oh that sour thing is my little brother Sammy. Sammy come say hi.” Dean says waving him over.

“It’s Sam.” He says holding his hand out to Chet.

“Well, nice to meet you folks. So like I said before, what can I do for you?”

“We all three want this.” Sam says handing Chet a piece of paper with the simbel roughly graw on it.

“You draw this yourself?” Chet asks, taking the picture and looking down at it stroking his beard.

“Yeah, I did. Look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up I would really like to get some sleep.” Sam says, looking tired.

“Well just slow down there a minute.” Chet says not even the least bit surprised with Sam’s mood.

“How big are you three talking? Because if you want something huge It’s going to be more than one trip. Plus you have how are you going to pay and where you want it at.”

“No bigger than three inches.” I say getting an agreement from both the boys.

“Altight. That will be 75 each. That’s without color.”

“You take credit?” Dean asks.

“Yes, sir we do.”

“Well, let’s do this.” Dean says, pulling out his wallet and handing him his card.

I’m a little surprised when he doesn’t look at it or ask for ID.

“Alright, well let me go draw this up and you three can talk about where you want it and who goes first.” Chet says taking the picture Sam drew and walking in the back.

“Sam you can go first.” I say sitting on one of the black leather couches, Dean sitting beside me.

“Why do I go first?” Sam asks sitting in a plastic chair across from us.

“Because you won’t have to wait you can go out and sleep in the car while we get ours done.” I say like it’s obvious.

“Okay sure, whatever.”

“Man he really is tired.” Dean says laying his arm on the back of the couch.

“Yeah, well it will be over soon and we will never have to worry about it again.” I say smiling up at Dean, because I would probably just get a glare from Sam.

On the note I could feel his death glaze burn a hole in my head.

“So did you decide where you are going to get yours?” I ask, whoever wants to answer.

“I’m working on it.” Dean says winking at me, making me roll my eyes.

“What about you Clauda?” Sam asks

“Still thinking.” I say biting my trying to think of where would be the best place.

All three of us fall into a comfortable silence waiting on Chet. He returns around thirty minutes later.

“Alright I got everything all set up. So who is going first.”

Both me and Dean pont to Sam.

“Alright, son, follow me back.” Chet says holding the beads hanging over the door out of Sam’s way.

“Be nice!” I say getting a Yeah, Yeah and a wave from him.

Chet laughs and walks thru the door with Sam in front of him.

“So, you really don’t know where you are getting yours?” Dean asks looking down at me.

“No, everywhere I think don’t seem right.” I say biting my lip.

“I have an idea.” Dean says.

“Oh gosh.” I say covering my face, slightly worried.

“Well at least hear me out first.”

“Okay fine, fine. What is your idea?” I ask, looking up at Dean to meet bright green eyes.

“You pick for me and I pick for you.” He says shrugging.

“That way if we can get an outsider’s thoughts on it.”

Smiling, I nod my head.

“You know I really like that.” I say, saying exactly how I felt.

“See and you didn’t trust me.”

“Oh, I trust you. I trust you get me into trouble by putting it on my forehead.”

Laughing Dean ran his hand down his face.

“I was thinking more your cheek but if that’s what you want to go with, its your face darlin’.” He says pulling me closer to him and tickling me softly.

Giggling I push his hands away, just as Chet and Sam walk out.

“Well that was fast.” Dean says, sounding halfway disappointed.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in the car.” Sam says doing just that.

“Alright who’s next.”

“Me!” I say standing up and walking over to Chet.

“You gonna bring your boyfriend with you?” Chet asks nodding at Dean.

Blushing at the boyfriend comment, I ignore it and turn to face Dean feeling dumb since he is picking the spot for the tattoo.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” I say running to him and grabbing his forearm just to pull him up from his seat.

I hear Chet laugh behind us making me wonder exactly what life he thinks we have.

Following him back into the other room, Dean laces his fingers with mine making me smile up at him. He quickly returns it making my stomach do flips.

“Room three.” Chet gestures to the last door.

Dean quickly takes the lead pulling me behind him. When we step into the room I can help the rush I get when I see the chair with the gun beside it.

“You okay?” Dean asks looking down at me.

“Yeah, why?” I ask, confused as why he would ask that.

LIfting our joined hands he lets go to show me how my hand is shaking.

“Oh. They’re the good kind. Here feel my heart.” I say taking his hand and placing it to my chest before I can think.

Realizing what I did I feel myself blush a little but I keep his hand there. He is my “boyfriend” after all.

Smiling Dean moves his hand up to my neck, pulling me to him to kiss my forehead.

“One hell of an adrenaline rush huh?” Dean asks moving so Chet can get to his spot beside the chair.

“So do we know where we want it?” Chst asks when he sets down.

“He does.” I say pointing to Dean and moving back a little.

“Oh, alright what’ll it be son?” He asks looking up at Dean.

“She wants it on her rib. Here.” Dean says placing his hand on my right side just under my bra strap.

“And you’re okay with that?” Chet asks looking at me, making eye contact. I guess to see if I’m lying.

“Yes, it’s perfect.” I say telling the truth.

Feeling all at once how I could not picture it anywhere else.

“Alright well take a seat, I’ll fix the chair once you’re on it. Dean there is a stool in the hall if you want to grab it so you have somewhere to sit.”

“Alright.” He says walking out of the room quickly returning since the stool was just outside the door.

“Is this your first tattoo?” Chet asked, fixing the chair so he could reach my rib easily.

“Yep.” I say popping the P getting comfortable on my left side.

“Well let me tell you it’s going to hurt a lot.”

“She can take it.” Dean says sitting on the stool my face becoming even with his belly.

“Well just let me know if you need to take a break. Don’t worry though I got 20 years under my belt. Or should I say gun. You’re in good hands.”

“Thanks Chet.” I say smiling at him and laying my head on my left arm, my other one laying in front of me.

“Lift your shirt for me please.” Chet says.

“I got it.“ Dean says before I can even move. Pulling my shirt up I feel as if it’s in slow motion but maybe that’s just because I’m suddenly very aware of how many scars I have on my stomach and hips.

I realize that it’s not Dean seeing them, it’s Chet. I can hear the questions now. But they never come. Instead I feel something like paper being stuck to my sink.

"So you from around here?” Chet asked, one of us.

“No. Road trip. She got it in her head that we all should get tattoos.”

“Hey! It’s for a good reason.” I say sticking my tongue out at Dean even though he is not eye level with me. Well he is never eye level with me.

“About that if you don’t mind me asking. Your brother said something about it being in the family. He didn’t make much since. He was not in a chatty mood.

"Yeah, it’s been in his family for years. All the way back to the tribes. The people believed that it could keep you from getting posed.” I say smiling a “what the hell smile”.

“Oh thats a new one.”

“Yeah, but like I said she got it in her head. So it had to be done. But at the end of the day it’s a badass tattoo.”

“That it is.” Chet said starting up the gun making a buzz fill the room.

“Ready?” He asked from behind me.

“Ready.” I say as Dean seems to shrink down to my level. Him pulling the lever on the bottom of the stool. He still has to bend down a little to be eye to eye with me but that’s better than nothing.

When the needle of the gun first touched my skin it felt like I was being punched so hard it made my ribs brake. Groning I clenched my jaw and grabbed onto the nearest thing which happened to be Dean’s forearm.

“Are you okay?” Chet asked, pulling the gun from me.

“Yes” I say closing my eyes and groaning again.

“Man that hurts worse than getting sticked up.” I say taking a deep breath thru my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.

“Should I keep going?”

“Yeah, keep going.” I say moving my hand to Dean’s.

Feeling the pain again I bit my lip so I didn’t make a noise. It still hurts but this time I knew what to expect. It felt like someone was digging a white hot nail down my side.

After a minute it slowly turned into a dull pain as my skin in that spot went numb.

“Dean is it?”

“Yeah.” Dean says pushing my raven hair off my face.

“You got a keeper. Never have I ever seen a first timer get a tattoo on their ribs and be this quiet or still.”

“Yeah, she is good at that.”

Laughing I moved my right arm over my head and looked down as best as I could watching Chet wipe away ink from my side.

Smiling at the butterflies again I laid my arm back down. Dean laying his hand on the back of mine lacing his fingers through mine.

“That scar on her hip. I walked in on her sewing it up herself.” Dean said, sounding almost like he was bragging.

“Yeah and you should have heard the ear full I go for it.” I say, smiling softly, my eyes closed.

It seemed to help with the pain, the less I talked. So that’s what I didn’t do. I lay there listening to Dean and Chet talk about me and what happened so I had to get sewn up. Dean came up with the lie that I was a nurse in afghanistan. That’s where we met, that’s where the scar he was talking about came from. If only it was that noble. When really it came from breaking up a bar fight between Dean and some dude hitting on me very, very hard. To the point I almost stabbed him. Dean did walk in on me sowing up and I did get an ear full. But it was not just him telling me how I should not have tried to break up the fight. Or sow myself up.

It had a mix of the crystal green his eyes get when he is hurting. It didn’t take two glances to see that he was mad at himself more than me. He thought it was his fault.

Always dose.

“Callie you alright?” Dean asks, making me open my eyes and look up at him, a yawn leaving my mouth.

“Well I guess that answers my question.” Chet said laughing.

“What?”

“I thought you passed out of something. I told him you were fine but he wanted to be sure.”

“No, yeah, I’m okay. Just listening to you talk. Your voice is relaxing.” I say smiling up at him, making him scratch the back of his head telling me I embarrassed him which didn’t happen often.

“Well you’re halfway done. So finish your nap.” Dean says, trying to laugh it off.

“Thanks.” I say smiling and closing my eyes.

Lucky me Chet started another conversation with Dean about what all he has hunted.

He went on about telling him something about a bear which I think was one of the werewolves we have killed or maybe a windigo.

“Alright, you are done.” Chet said, turning off everything.

“Can I see?” I ask sitting up a little. An ache in my side.

“Let me clean you up first.”

Nodding I layed back on the chair and poked Dean’s chest making him look down at me.

“How’s it look?”

“You’ll like it.” He says smirking down at me.

“I better.” I say sticking my tongue out at him.