#baby winchester series

[beebox-illustrations]

So…. Guess what I’m currently rewatching😬

Are there any supernatural fans among you? I’d be delighted :D

Have a fantastic Sunday !✨🌻💚

[samanddean76]

Fun With Numbers - Supernatural Edition

I was thinking about the upcoming anniversary of the finale, and I realized a few things that I felt needed to be shared with this fandom.

Especially for all of us who are Sam-girls at heart.

The Impala rolled off the line April 24th, 1967.

Sam Winchester was born May 2nd, 1983.

Sam and Dean kicked a whole lot of Chuck ass, demonic ass, angelic ass, and just monster ass in general until November 19th, 2020.

Sam was 37 when Dean died.

Assuming Sam lived another 30 years, he would have died in 2050.

Sam was 67 when he died.

And Baby? The sleek black beauty who was a bad-ass bitch that carried them through every challenge they ever tried to tackle?

Baby was 83 when Sam died.

Just something to think about, the tragic symmetry of the two beings that Dean cared about most in the entire universe.

And how they were made for each other.

[hisbrotherskeeper]

John doesn’t know what size clothes Sam wears. Stopped buying them years ago.

Dean is the one taking Sam to thrift stores and shoplifting sweatshirts from Walmart when Sam is in school. Dean buys them big—room to grow.

He’s the one feeding his little brother anyhow, and can sense it in his bones that Sam will keep on growing like a weed, bigger than him, bigger than John. Better than them, too, he thinks. Sam’s different and good and full of potential and that scares Dean as much as it makes him proud.

[niaerinisms]

They don’t even know about my crackship DanNoah……

[missmarveledsblog]

Oh boy ( Dean Winchester x Reader) part two

Summary : y/n still reeling in the events of the day calling the one person , she knows that can help , while dean needs answers only it never that easy in the life of a hunter when guests begin to arrive

warning : fun fluffy angsty times ft some cryptids and family , what life without a little arson thrown in there too

previously on Oh boy

Standing on the porch , her house secluded like most around , she was high alert looking out the windows and surrounding , the once safe space didn’t feel so safe. Putting the keys into the lock knowing it was too dangerous to stay there but nowhere to go with only one person she knew she could rely on when it came to this and keeping Mikey protected . reasoning with herself that she didn’t break the promise to keep him away , another part of her knowing she could never keep him away , but one thing she was adamant on was not raising him like she was . where every day was a mission instead of a day to live and take in the world around them even if that world could be hell on earth but it had its nice parts . Another thing was she never noticed or chose not to see how much mikey looked like him , the little carbon copy of the man she tried so hard to forget the same sandy blonde hair and those piercing green eyes . she silently wondered if mannerisms matched , taste or stuff like that were the same but giving what she knew now maybe it was even more for the best that he stayed away . Kicking herself for the one man she had one night stand with was a hunter too. That much was clear and the fake name sort made sense ( didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at the fact) . pulling her phone out hovering over the contact she finally hit the button

“ hey i need you “ she steadied her breathe but it was no use today was close call to much of a close call to ignore .

It wasn’t possible , it couldn’t be possible and yet it was . pacing the room thinking back to that night , the way he introduced himself , the flirting and the night she was under him and now here he was back and she was still here but now he was here too . trying to convince himself it wasn’t what it looked like that, that it couldn’t be what it looked like . yet the kid looked like him even he could see that much but stuff like that can happen right?

“Maybe ask her instead of torturing yourself “ sam voice called.

“ but we used something i’m sure of it” he stood now trying to think if they did or didn’t.

“ not always fool proof “

“ Well that much is clear genius “ he scoffed, ready to grab his coat as well as a piece of paper with her address that michelle gave sam under the guise of needing to ask y/n what she saw or what mikey saw. hated to say how much Sam was right he needed to know , what he did with the knowledge was still so unclear but he couldn't just ignore the fact that this could be his child.

“ Be nice and don't lose it …forget it im coming “ sam stood knowing it was a mess , but this was his brothers mess albeit support and someone to be impartial would help . The drive was quiet, not even the sounds of 80s classic rock was blaring from the speakers , eyes watching the road and everything around it . pulling up night dark and the night air blowing through the trees . the little house filled with light and sounds of a gun clicking .

“woah annie oakley it just us” dean called hands raise .

“ yeah i don't think that gonna get her put the gun down … we , he just wants to talk” sam called voice of reason when the gun lowered and soft sigh out of her mouth nodding for them to coming in watching around before closing the door .

“ mikey just gone to to sleep so voices down” she warned heading off letting them follow . deans eyes looking picture all along the narrow hallway . various stages of the little boy's life big bright smiles on his face .

“ Ask “ she looked up knowing it was on tip of his tongue ready to spill from his lips .

“ well … you know “ he looked around never thinking this was conversation he was in his life . “ is he mine ? like you sure he's not… like some other guys right” .

“ yes he's yours and contrary to the situation i don't sleep with guys i meet at the bar” she hissed feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment or anger maybe both at the insinuating remark. “ look you can do dna if you want but i've no reason to lie to you , i'm not asking you for anything either “ she stood , she had speech ready for when this day would come and yet words she had memorized vanished , hidden in some corner of her mind not willing to be know.

“ Why didn't you track me down ? , you should have told me “ his own tempter starting to flare.

“ i did only to be met with an 80 retired FBI agent that didn't know his ass from his elbow , how can i track you down when i don't even know your name … god how fucking bad is that “ she laughed dryly .

“dean my name dean” he said a lot cooler knowing he was more to blame than she was.

“ I'm Sam by the way , I know I said it earlier … you ok “ he asked only for her to burst out laughing.

It wasn't a laugh that she found it funny no she felt like she was losing her mind , of course it would be , she knew them not personally clearly but she knew of the brothers only for the sequence of knock to make her stand and rush to the door .

“ How the hell did you get here so fast “ her voice sounded surprised , impressed and confused .

“ Well I'll explain it later this …” that voice that made his eye widen more and both brothers to look at each other and to the door .

“ what you two are doing in my nieces house“ there stood bobby singer .

“ oh come on “ dean almost yelled looking up at the ceiling .

“Oh boy “ sam winced .

The silence was deafening , awkward tension, each wanting to talk and not finding the words . all emotions flying around in a situation none of them could see coming . Yet now to bobby it all made sense from mikey to the fake agent kicking himself for not putting the piece together a lot sooner.

“ Why is everyone so quiet “ cas finally looked around.

“ Because dean knocked up my niece” Bobby gritted as the two cringed and Sam was wondering if there was popcorn available . “ You realise she is only twenty six right ? “ he glared at the man .

“ So she was ..oh dean what the hell man “ sam grimaced .

“ barely just barely turned twenty one “ Bobby hissed.

she went to defend it but the sound of her laugh , one she wasn't letting out of her own mouth could be heard out back . then the screams following as she got up not caring what it was as she ran down the hall almost falling over as she ran into the room to see Mikey was always running towards her , he wasn’t the only thing as it broke through the boys bedroom window and charge as she pulled him out and slammed the door . holding it with all her strength while it was pulling it over.

“ Cas take Mikey to our motel room “ was all Sam said before she watched the two instantly gone .

“ MOVE” dean appeared in front of her with her shot gun as she drop to the ground the sound of the blast and the creature to scream as she crawl scamper to her feet running to the kitchen as she grab the aerosol spray and lighter off the counter before running back to the door shoving the brother out of the way as she began spraying and lifting the light in a makeshift blowtorch as it went up in flames crashing around the room before falling out the window,

“ WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT” bobby yelled .

“ Wendigo, “ the three said in unison .

“ Where is my son , what is he” she poked sam in the chest .

“ Cas is an angel , mikey is safe back in our motel maybe be safer if you got room too” sam winced .

“ he’s not wrong , that tracked you down “ dean opened the door as she stormed past taking the shot gun .

“ it’s still alive” she huffed seeing the tracks heading back to the woods and the smell of burnt rotten flesh in the air . “Take Bobby to mikey i need to pack up “ storming past the men .

“ i’ll stay with her “ dean shook his head handing sam the key , “ be careful” he added.

“ We'll be fine “ bobby wave him away.

“ he meant with baby “ sam rolled his eyes as they headed off.

She barely even wanted to think of anything, only a slight relief that Mikey was safe or that she had to convince herself he was but Bobby wouldn’t let harm come to him . in a big joke that life held just for her , she get pregnant by a Winchester and seriously regretted the bliss of thinking it was a low life scammer and now she was being hunted down by a wendigo that had said brothers in town in the first place . it was an ironic fucking mess and it was her life because of course it was . grabbing the suitcases she headed to Mikey room first grabbing his clothes and thing that she deemed most important as dean stood at the door .

“ those three draws just throw em in “ she threw him a case before going around the house grabbing more irreplaceable things as well as some clothes for herself. She trying not let the tears fall down her cheeks pulling trying to decided what to take with her , grabbing the gun from the safe as she watched her surrounding bring it out to her car before heading back into the house. Five trips between them as she grabbed an ex heading into her bed room she began smash the bottom of her closet as he watched seeing one big huge luggage case hidden . watching as she struggled to carry it rolling his eyes before grabbing the handle feeling the weight of the thing.

“ you got a dead body in this thing” he grunted pulling it with her .

“ no but it can make one “ he could have sworn he saw her wink which honestly didn’t ease any kind of tension before she ran back into the house and coming out with a tox box on wheels a purchase she was definitely thankful for now as she threw it into the back of her car.

“ You go start the car” she handed him her keys .

“ don’t you wanna lock up? “ he asked . Without a reply or words she grabbed the canister out of the bush and threw it in the house along with what he could make out was a burning roll of toilet paper.

“ GO “ She yelled, jumping into the car .

“ What the hell you doing “ he looked back at the burning house.

“ We don't have time to explain now, go “ she snapped as hit the gas, watching her house up in flames along with the hope she finally had a home .

The roads bare as the two drove her eye watching the tree almost checking for movement. Luckily for her the town wasn’t filled with many of them for something of its caliber to move incognito but she knew she was gonna have to get Mikey out of here as soon as possible .

“ Now you wanna tell me what hell that was?” he asked .

“ burn the place so it can’t use our home or try to get our scent from anything in there and nothing else can come from it too “ she explained in a way it made sense but it didn't make it less nuts .

“ sooo what's in the big case?” .

“guns , ammo , katana, you know the essentials”.

“Where are you gonna go? “

“ I don't know but I'll figure it out, I always do” she smiled weakly as she could see the motel coming into view . she sat up straighter almost out the door only for she didn’t know which room it was. almost on his back as she followed when the door opened and little body hit her when she broke.

“ mama did you get the monster?” .

“ hey buddy give yer mama minute kay"bobby patted her back .

“ i didn’t but i will “ she sniffled wiping her eyes checking him over.

“ mama Cas is an angel , he got us here in a blink and , and then we watched cartoons “ he said excitedly .

“ thank you castiel “ she smiled weakly .

“ The little human is quite fun, “ he smiled back .

“ bobby i need a favor “ she stood looking at the older man .

“ any thing kid you know that “ he nodded.

“ need you get Mikey out of town , i'll come get him”

“ what you up to girl i can see it on your face ”.

“ It made it personal .. im going hunting"

Taglist : @msrawog

[reigningqueenofwords]

Dad's Back masterlist

Boys A Daughter Ellen Glitter Baby Teeth Cheer Camp Paper Footballs

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  We're Counting On You, Lord

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Rating:  Teen

Synopsis: In my headcanon Baby's a bit more tempermental than she is on-camera, and breakdowns happen often enough Sam has a routine down when it comes to busting Dean's balls over it.

Tags:  Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Baby the Impala, Baby is a brat, Sam is a brat, Dean is a brat, songfic

AN:  Song is "Mercedes Benz," written by Janis Joplin, Michael McClure, and Bob Neuworth, performed by Joplin on the album 'Pearl.' All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

If asked, Dean Winchester will call his car the perfect hunter's car.  Sure she drinks gas like water and doesn't do off-road, like, at all, and don't even ask about parking.  But the pros -- bench seats for emergency sleeping, trunk big enough for a small apartment's worth of gear, all sorts of nooks and crannies for hiding spare cash and ammo, surprisingly inconspicuous for her size and age, able to cruise at 70 for days -- far outweigh the cons as far as he's concerned.  Power, beauty, and able to bounce back from everything the job can possibly throw at them.  They're a matched set, Dean will tell you.

If asked, Sam Winchester will point out that the car sticks out like a bobcat at a dog show, the air conditioning barely works no matter how much Dean screws around with it, its zero-to-sixty can be measured in days, it eats brake pads like they're potato chips, and why in the hell hasn't Dean upgraded the suspension because he swears he can feel the car crying whenever it hits a pothole.  And with the amount of time they spend taking secondary highways, that's a lot of crying.

Most of his gripes get shot down with an annoyed glower and, "One word-- legroom."  And Sam will admit, Dean's got him there.  Getting stuck in Brady's Alfa Romeo Spyder had not exactly been the high point of his freshman year.

Questions about reliability will produce similarly opposed responses.  Dean will swear on any holy book you hand to him that Baby's a perfect lady, never breaks down, never strands him in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.  Sam will make sure he's safely out of earshot and swear the damn thing's never completed a journey without going bang, ever, not once in the thirty-odd years he's been riding in it.

The truth of course is somewhere in the middle.  Dean's been working on Baby since he was old enough to hold a flashlight steady and he's brought her back from scrap and spare parts more than once.  But the flat fact of the matter is, the car's a blue-collar broad of a certain age who's lived hard.  She has . . . quirks.

---

bang!

"What--"

cough

"Aw shit--"

"Mmm?"

"Don't-- c'mon Baby, just for me, be sweet to me--"

sick revving noises

"God dammit."

"I think the car just gave you the finger."

"Don't listen to him sweetheart, he's just being a bitch as usual."

bang! car lurches hard enough to throw driver and passanger out of their seats

"Definitely telling you to go fuck yourself."

"Shut up."

crunch of shoulder gravel, engine stops

"Well . . . at least it's not dark this time.  Or raining.  Or sleeting, Or--"

creak of door hinges, pop of hood latch

"Sam, shut up."

"No, you know what?  You're right.  I will shut up."

pop of trunk lock, clink of tools

"Because--"

dramatic clearing of throat

"Oh no you fucking don't."

humming for a note

"Start that shit and--"

voice rises in pitch

"'Like to do a song--'"

"Shave your head in your sleep--"

"'--of great social--'"

"Break every bone in your body--"

"'--and political import.'"

"Tie you to a bed naked and call that Becky chick--"

"'Goes like this.'"

thunking of a hand on a car's side panel

"Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a Mercedes-Benz?  Mah friends all drive Porsches, I must make a-mends."

"I will fucking end you Sammy, I swear to God."

"Don't call me that-- I work haaaard all my life time, no help from my friends."

"Sammy-Sammy-Sammykins--"

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a Mercedes-Benz?  Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a color TV?"

"Sammycutiewootiepieface--"

"Dialin' for Dollars is tryin' to find meeee.  I wait for dee-livery, each day until three."

dark muttering about home perms and dye it all bright fucking pink I swear to God

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a color TV?  Oh Lord! won't'cha buy me, a night on the town?"

soft whine of ultimate suffering

"I'm countin' on you Lord, please don't let me down.  Prooooove that'cha love me, and buy the next round."

"Make mine a double."

"So Lord! won't'cha buy me a night on the town?  Everybody! oh Lord! won't'cha buy me a Mercedes-Benz?  Mah friend all drive Porsches, I must make a-mends.  I worked haaaard all my life time, no help from my friends.  So Lord! won't'cha buy me, a Mer-Cey-Deez-Benz?"

silence

"Are you finished?"

a decidedly fiendish chuckle

"Just getting warmed up.  My car is a . . . "

sounds of two grown men trying to seriously throttle each other by the side of the road

---

"So, you boys wanna run that by me again?"

Sam and Dean glared while the Sheriff of Minnehaha County tried not to laugh.  She made a mental note to show Donna the video later.  The best part had to be the both of them looking up guiltily as Jody barked, "GENTLEMEN," Sam in a headlock and Dean with a bloody nose.

They pointed at each other, "He started it."

---

AN2: Oh, the song Sam started at the end is Psychostick's, "Two Ton Paperweight."

[jaybren]

Reason #394 Why Twilight Disappoints Me

When Jacob imprinted on Renesmee, his first response to Edward and Bella wasn't to point out how the age gap is less than a third the gap between Edward and Bella.

[demenior]

i'm sorry, SAMNADO??? all i can think of is a sharknado but it is full of sams

Check my list of current wips here and send me a title and I’ll post a bit or share some details about it.

You're not that far off lmao. Sam's on a mission, blowing into town and on the hunt for some answers.

(everyone in this scene is from season 8)

--

Sam’s not going to get anywhere if Stan is going to be difficult. The humidity covers the brief drop in temperature as Sam sends out a little point of energy from his demonic garden. For old times’ sake, he reforms it into the shape of a snake.

Easy enough to slither under Stan’s defenses, and find an opening that Sam can push into. Sam waits, lets his energy cut into Stan’s aura enough to burrow in like an infection, before he asks.

“So why Bandera?”

Easy enough now, to open the cut and push the hostility back, to let Stan’s love for Amelia bleed through. It overcomes his wariness and makes him drop his guard. If there’s one thing Sam’s learned, magic or not, it’s always easiest to manipulate someone when they’re friendly with you. 

[paragraphs cuts for length]

“The last time you talked— did she sound… off?” Sam asks.

“Did she sound like she was about to disappear?” Stan clarifies. His shoulders come up like he’s ready for a fight. The barbed wire in his soul starts coiling up again.

“I want to help,” Sam insists, “I don’t believe in coincidence, but there has to be a reason I’m here now. The police aren’t helping, so let me help find her.”

“She has a husband,” Stan reminds him, tone as heavy as a door being closed.

“She’s missing,” Sam stresses, and he needs a push of legitimacy so he adds, “my brother’s— Cas, he, uh, he’s a journalist. He’s good at finding people. And putting shit together. We can help.”

Stan must be at the end of his rope, because he stops fighting. He drops his shoulders. His barbed wire aura grows slack again. Sam’s infection can keep spreading, searching for the right hold to give Sam enough persuasion over Stan.

“They live in town?” Sam pushes.

Stan shakes his head, “No, no. A little out— closer to the falls. I can, I can take you there in the morning. I’ve been staying at the motel, for the wifi. And so she can call me, you know, when…”

Sam nods along, “Yeah. Okay. And you don’t— do you think she left? Or…”

The paper cup crumples in Stan’s hands. Old coffee spills over onto the table, “I don’t know,” he confesses, “I don’t know where my daughter is, or if something awful has happened. Don’s with her, and I have to hope for the best. Cause I don’t— I don’t know what to do if…”

“We’re gonna find her,” Sam promises, “now, can I grab her address? For Cas. I’ll get him to start doing some research on the area, to see if anything comes up, okay?”

Stan is hesitant— guys like him like keeping their information close. Sam gives him a small nudge, just a gentle click of his tongue, one note, to help push him. His infection, the invasive species, slithers deeper into Stan’s aura. It’s not elegant, but it will work. Sam’s got a hold on him.

“Of course,” Stan agrees, “whatever you need.”

Dean and Cas join them with fresh coffees for everyone, and food. They’ve been eating buc-ees jerky and trail mix for hours, so a warm veggie burger is the best thing Sam’s eaten all day. Dean doles out the food and drinks while Sam catches them up with the conversation and Cas’ new career as a journalist.

Cas immediately crawls out of his body to inspect Sam’s work. He’s always curious about Sam’s powers— Sam weaves and sings like a maniac, as Cas has described, but it’s because he’s a human with grace who leaned angel singing from a demon. So far Sam thinks he’s doing okay.

“A journalist?” Dean repeats, and glares at Sam before putting on his charming smile, “yeah, yeah. Cas is a total nerd. Loves getting into the details of stuff. I always thought he should be like, a detective, for how nosy he is. If there’s anything weird, Cas will find out. Isn’t that right, Cas? Cas?”

Cas is too absorbed in Sam’s spell, and forgets to animate his vessel. Sam spins his energy into a snake head, to leap out of Stan’s aura and snap at him.

The vessel blinks in surprise. The head moves, but Cas doesn’t move any of the limbs. It’s kinda funny how he thinks he can pass as a person.

“Sorry. I am… tired,” Cas lies.

Outside of the vessel, Sam sees Cas’ form spin like a funnel cloud. He’s not happy about the jump scare.

“Tired, but you’re used to running on coffee,” Dean leads.

“Of course,” Cas agrees, “I love coffee.”

He takes a sip and immediately grimaces. Cas shoots Dean a betrayed look.

“No! Don’t spit it out!” Dean orders. Cas swallows like he's drinking battery acid.

“There’s no love in this,” Cas whines.

Dean rolls his eyes, but takes Cas’ coffee from him, “Yeah, yeah. Cream and sugar, coming up.”

At Stan’s incredulous look, Cas calmly explains, “Most food is only palatable if Dean adds some love to it.”

“Anything else you can tell us?” Sam prompts Stan, “did Amelia mention anything about neighbors? Coworkers? Any new friends or people she didn’t like?”

Sam twists his snake, pushing deeper into Stan. He’s so close to getting him to unlock. Stan takes a second to talk, blinking slowly and staring into space.

“Well, uh, like I said earlier, the house is far… remote. Neighbors are pretty far…” Stan trails off.

Cas’ funnel cloud spins closer to ruffle Sam’s hair with a low bass tone, just a warning bite, that makes Sam’s foot cramp and his demonic garden shrink back into his skin. His hold on his infection slips, and Cas yanks it out like he’s sucking up instant noodles. Sam glares at Cas’ vessel, only to find Cas is glaring back at him. Sam must have done something wrong.

Stan gives his head a small shake.

“Did you just get into town?” Stan wonders, sounding more awake.

[bitchface24-7]

Sammy 🥺🥺

pre-series sammycore

[corinthianism]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

[zepskies]

Against the Wind || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Another short series for @jacklesversebingo! This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon SPN world.

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, angst, smut, fluff and feels. Background Sam Winchester x Eileen (Saileen).

Chapters:

Part 1: In His Hands

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

Part 4: Running to Live

Series Complete

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

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@trashmoutth @riteofpassage77 @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova

@cookiechipdough

[imapaintedwhore]

Oh the late 90s early 2000s✨✨✨

pre-series sam and dean looks

[rubyvhs]

୨ৎ your camera roll when you start dating dean winchester

So many dates. Dean can’t believe you even said yes to being with him. You want to spend your time with him? Willingly? It’s a fever dream. And so every single case the only thing he talks about is how after it’s done you and him are going to the cool diner you passed on the way, and you need to try the pie, or that you’re both definitely gonna try fishing in the lake. Or on the nights when you’re both so incredibly exhausted from all the dying and running so you decide to go for a drive. Dean thinks those are his favorite. The both of you in the car with Zeppelin on blast, sometimes your girly music too, and he tells you how much he loves you. He stops the both of you at a random spot, thinks you’ll both be there for a second but a kiss through the window turns to more and you’re there for hours. He tells you to delete the picture later, says no one needs to find him kissing you on your phone but when you decline once he doesn’t argue. He wants you happy and you’re happiest when you’re capturing him in his element. Whether it be him eating, fishing, or kissing you in Baby and being your boyfriend— because he’s damn good at that, no matter his own thoughts about it.

You decide hunting can’t be your entire life if you’re going to spend it together but you hate to admit how scared you are to tell Dean that so you start in slow steps. You pick up less cases and Sam doesn’t care, he’s always out with his new girlfriend anyway, sometimes hunts with her. You use one of Bobby’s cabins for a two day vacation with Dean. It’s hardly anything, no beach or big city, just the forest but you think it’s just as beautiful. You think Dean’s beautiful. He’s just talking to you, gambling with his life while he sits in the thin ledge and you let him because if Hell couldn’t bring him down, a ledge can’t even try. He’s happy. He’s telling you about why he thinks Back to California beats Stairway to Heaven and you’re not sure you’re listening. He groans when he sees you snapping a picture. The next day, the last day, of your vacation you’re both at a bar type of place. You’re not sure what it is but it’s cozy enough that you choose a booth to take your heels off in and when they start announcing that tonight’s all about the crowd, you bite your lip in anticipation. Dean’s always been shy when it comes to his singing but you know he’s good, he’s talented for someone who’s never once been to a lesson. You all but beg him to go up there and he stares at you throughout the entire song. You’re both leaving to get back to the bunker when it starts raining. You thought you’d use it as an excuse to stay longer but as you’re both leaving you notice that dean’s not mentioned hunting once. He doesn’t care. For once, you believe you might actually have a chance at getting him out of the life and snap a picture in the rain to send the news to Sam. He thinks you’re crazy. Crazy enough to actually do it.

part one :: yes this is now a series, last one coming out in a week<3 and im making another series for sam, you’re the ‘gf’ for him mentioned in this one.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

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"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

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[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 2 - Sick and Full of Pride

Mini-Series Masterlist

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), angst, fluff, mutual pining, smut, Dean's got the Mark of Cain, uh oh.

Summary/Warnings: You, Dean, and a sleeping Sam drive back to the bunker. Usual Warnings, plus light smut.

Author's Note: Dean driving does Things to me have a whole chapter with it.

Title from Drive by Halsey

Word Count: 5k

Read on A03!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

You’ve been in the car for almost eleven hours. The drive home was supposed to be eight, Dean is by no means going slow, and—as he’s told you many, many times—he doesn’t get lost, so you’re starting to suspect that you won’t be home any time soon.

As such, you’re now trying to find a reason to very casually and inconspicuously bring up that, if you’re looking at another three hours in the Impala, you’d appreciate it if you and Dean could make the team effort to kick Sam into the back so you can move to shotgun. You rarely get the opportunity—it arises exclusively when Sam wants to sprawl across the larger bench, you made Dean pie to get on his good side, or Dean and Sam are fighting, so Sam loses shotgun privileges—so you plan to take full advantage of this one.

Dean beats you to it. He’s been drumming on the wheel for about an hour in a beat you can’t find any real pattern to, he keeps shifting in his seat, and when he meets your eyes in the rearview mirror, there’s something that’s not quite stress—but close to it—on his face.

“Do you, uh, you wanna come up here?”

You blink, leaning forward between the seats to whisper in his ear. Don’t want to wake up Sam, and, really, any excuse to whisper with Dean is one you’ll take. “Yeah, but,” you glance at the sleeping lump of Sam. “What about Goliath?”

Dean shrugs. “He can sleep in the back. He’s lanky,” Dean says your name, shooting you a small grin, and you almost fall forward. “And I want you up here.”

“Oh.” You flush, but force yourself not to read into it. Sam’s asleep. Asleep people are worse company than awake people. “Okay.”

“You’ll talk to me, right? Up here?”

He sounds a little nervous, and your words fall out in a rush of reassurance. “Of course I’ll talk to you. I lo-” You catch yourself, and focus your attention on a dial on the dashboard as you continue. “I like talking to you. I’ll always talk to you.”

“So yeah?” Dean’s voice is casual, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s staring at the road—which he probably should’ve been doing the whole time—and his grip has become white-knuckled and tight on the wheel. “You’ll come up here?”

“If you can get Sam out, sure-“

Dean pulls off the side of the road, pushing his door open, and stomping around the hood of Baby. You’re a little dumbstruck, not entirely sure what’s happening, and a small rap of Dean’s knuckles on the window pull you back to your senses.

You push your door open, frowning up at him. “What-“

“Let’s go.” Dean’s hand moves to your arm, but he flinches back almost immediately, like you’ve burned him. Even in just the streetlights, you could swear he’s blushing. “C’mon, Sweetheart, need some backup.”

Once you’re out of the car, rubbing your arms and watching Dean and Sam exchange low words—Dean’s sounding urgent and Sam’s just sounding a little irritated—you try to look up and down the street for some clue of where you are. It’s mostly bushes, yellowing grass, and telephone poles—so literally anywhere in the Midwest—and this old dirt road isn’t really that different from any other dirt road, but it still feels familiar. Like you’ve been on it before. And the track marks on the upcoming path look suspiciously similar to the track marks behind Baby-

Sam stands up and shuffles to the backseat with a few grumbling sounds, and Dean holds the door open for you.

“M’lady.” He makes a wide, sweeping gesture to the seat, and you give him an amused, dry look as you walk up to his side, trying not to get high on how incredibly real his boyish, proud smile looks.

“You’re very cheesy sometimes, you know.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t seem bothered, and his eyes never leave yours as you climb into the seat. “Part of my charm.”

There isn’t a good answer for you to offer him that isn’t God, it really is, so you just make a half-hearted shrug and sink into yourself, letting Dean close the door and return to the wheel.

The first few minutes are silent, and the longer you look at the passing fields, the more you feel like you’ve seen them before.

“Hey, Dean?”

He hums, and you turn your head to see his gaze flicking between you and the road.

“Do you know how much longer we have left? Before we’re home?”

“Few hours.” He shrugs, and it’s a loose movement, which is a good sign. “Traffic’s a bitch.”

You glance out the windshield to the completely empty, dark street. “Traffic.”

“Yep.”

It’s not worth pushing him on. You’re fine here—you’re fine anywhere if you’re next to Dean—and Sam looks a little more comfortable, so if the drive ends up going until morning, you won’t care that much. You might become a little more worried about Dean, but you’ve gotten used to being worried about Dean. You’d rather the worry be about he might be losing his sense of direction, or developing short-term memory loss, because we’ve definitely taken this right before instead of he’s shattering glass and doesn’t seem to do anything but look sad and it’s going to make you cry.

“So, um,” you keep your eyes on the dial from before, because looking at Dean while you talk to him is never a good idea. “You’re still feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling great. Whatever hocus pocus shit Rowena did worked wonders, Sweetheart, I’m feeling amazing.”

You smile, and something that’s been tight around your heart for months loosens. “That’s really good, Dean. I know you didn’t want to try this, but-“

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” You see another loose shrug in your periphery, and your smile grows. “I gotta listen to you and Sam more, sometimes your ideas can actually be good.”

That makes you look up at him—primarily to glare—and it’s immediately a mistake. The shadows and ripples from the streetlight, cutting over his lips and jaw and cheekbones in the night, are making him look somehow more attractive, and you think it’s because of the joy. Dean’s grinning between you and the road, and there are no burdens pushing his shoulders down or weighted over his handsome features, and his whole face looks happy.

“Um,” you swallow, unable to tear your gaze away from Dean. “What’s the betterlust feel like? What does it want?”

Dean pauses, and he clears his throat in a deep, rough sound that is incredibly unproductive for actually focusing on his words.

“Feels like the bloodlust, I guess. I don’t, uh, it’s like a hunger.” Dean runs one hand carefully over the wheel, glancing at you with darkened eyes you can’t read, but want to watch you forever. “But for really specific things. And if it doesn’t get those things, I get…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “I feel like shit.”

“Like a craving?”

“Exactly like a craving.” Dean shoots you a grin that’s all pleased teeth, and you couldn’t look away from him if you tried. “Kinda like when we’re on a stakeout and suddenly you want a burrito, and if we don’t get you a burrito you start to get all mean and whiny.”

“I do not get mean or whiny-“

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “You get very mean and whiny. I ain’t gonna forget when you threatened to castrate Sam because he brought you a salad.”

“And I won’t forget that you backed me up, Winchester. You offered to get my knife.”

“Because you were being mean and whiny, and I’m not looking to ever get castrated.” He gives a fake, overdramatic shutter. “The loss of Dean Jr. would hit many people very hard.”

You flush, whacking his arm. “Asshole, I was not going to castrate you-“

“You would.” He shoots you a wink. “But don’t worry about it. I appeased the monster, and everything’s intact and functional down there.”

It takes effort to roll your eyes, because you know he’s not even taunting you on purpose. Dean has no way to know that you’d never castrate him—you probably weren’t going to castrate Sam either, the point was more to put the fear of God in him for thinking salad was an acceptable alternative to burrito—because the monster he was teasing you about lived in your abdomen and only roared for him. It reared it’s head at the deep, rolling sound of Dean’s voice, grew warm and sensitive at every brush of a big, rough hand on your skin, and was fed by any sliver or scrap of attention he threw you. The only way to truly appease the monster was to let it out of where you’d trapped and desperately ignored it, and the only way to let it out was for Dean to look at you, and not stop.

But you’d learned to deal with that. As long as the monster was tended to, kept in line and from falling out of your mouth with a shout of Dean! I love you! Please look at me, because I really, really love you! You’d be fine.

“Fine.” You sigh. “I’ll give you mean, but I have never been whiny in my life-“

He gives you a flat look of amusement. “You’re a little whiny right now, Sweetheart.”

There’s no way for you to win this argument, Dean’s backed you into a corner you’re more than happy to be in—it means he’s smirking at you, unbelievably pleased with himself, and he’s drumming on the wheel again—so you just roll your eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Uh huh.”

You flip him off, he lets out a loud laugh, causing Sam to stir in the back seat.

“Dean,” you hiss, your hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “Quiet-“

He scoffs, pulling your hand down. “Sam’ll be fine, he’s slept through more than me laughing. Don’t know where the hell his hunter instincts go when he knocks out, but nothing short of a hurricane is gonna wake him up now.”

“I know that, I’m just,” you glance at your hand, back in your laps as still buzzing where your palm had covered Dean’s lips. “He’s been really tired.”

Dean’s grin drops slightly, eyes flicking between you and the road. “What about you.”

“What about me?”

“Are you tired?”

You pause, trying to get a read on your own body. Your eyelids do feel heavy, and your body does have that strained feeling of exhaustion between your muscles and bones, but you’ve been more tired. And moments like this—just you and Dean, talking without any worries or sadness or pain—are so rare, you don’t want to miss any of it.

“I guess. But-“

“Get some sleep,” Dean says your name in a stern voice, his attention fixed back onto the road. “We’ll be home soon.”

You blink at him, and realize he’s taking the first left turn in almost three hours. “I’m fine, Dean-“

“You and Sam have been working overtime for me,” he grunts, shooting you a firm look that’s not angry, but firm. “You both deserve some rest. I’ll get you up when we’re back.”

You’re going to argue—to push back and try to explain that you can sleep later, you’re not really that tired and you’d choose talking to Dean over almost anything—but he turns up the music and that’s it. You’re not moving him on this, and if he thinks you need rest, he won’t talk to you until he deems you’ve rested.

It’s insufferable, and annoying, and so fucking impossible to fight with how he won’t stop looking at you with concern, until you sigh, curl into your seat, and pretend to close your eyes.

You’ve gotten good at faking sleep around Dean. At keeping your eyes just open enough to watch him like, admittedly, a creep, and savoring the moments where he’s just himself. He’s not trying to perform the big hero and protector and fighter role for you and Sam that he’s so good at—despite what he seems to think—because you and Sam are both, allegedly, asleep.

Well, Sam’s definitely asleep. But you’re drifting, toeing the careful line between the hazy fantasies that run through your head on loop and the reality of Dean, right next to you and so damn pretty.

He’s always so pretty, and right now he’s alive. He’s purely Dean—entirely himself, which is and always has been more than enough—and it makes his every movement electric. Every dart of his tongue over his lips—pink and full and probably soft and well fit on your own—makes you salivate, and that makes you wish he’d run a broad, thick finger over your mouth, wiping away the slight drool.

He’s drumming on the wheel again, and it turns into some sort of rhythmic lullaby, moving you higher and higher until everything is Dean.

It’s his strong, firm arms wrapping around you and flexing as he moves the wheel, and pinning your hands above your head with big, calloused hands you could swear keep brushing over your cheeks. It’s those lips that drive you insane pressing small, soft kisses all over your body before moving to your lips and turning desperate and rough. Dean’s tongue down your throat and his nose suddenly bumping against your clit.

He’s moved, down, down, down your body—you can feel marks that never really formed but are still sensitive and blissful from Dean’s presence—and suddenly you’re so needy you might die from it. You can still see Dean—the actual Dean, his eyes locked on the road in reality but focusing only on you in your head—and you can’t focus on anything else. His hands gripping the wheel are suddenly holding and kneading at your hips, but still deep inside you, pumping in and out in the same rhythm of the song.

It’s mostly fantasy now. You can smell the leather and whiskey and amber of Dean, your Dean—not your Dean, not your anything unless it’s here, in your half-dreams—and hear his humming, feel the heat radiating off his body. And it’s all feeding into each other, and now you’ll never come down. It will just keep being Dean’s hands on you—tossing you around like a ragdoll but touching your skin in a way that’s painfully careful—and body caging yours in. His full lips sucking and nipping at your neck and breasts and inner thighs, his tongue flicking at your nipples and clit and running over your teeth. Dean hold you down, up, under him or above him or against him, touching you however he wants because God, you’re not needy and desperate by any means but it would feel so good for him to use you. To be the cause of his post-sex swagger walk—as you and Sam have deemed it—or receive one of those cocky winks over breakfast. To hear him praise you, or praise him, or do anything he asks because he always does most anything for you.

Except this. This one thing—playing with you until you’re screaming his name and seeing stars—is the only thing Dean hasn’t done for you. Won’t do for you. You’ll never ask of it, you won’t be able to handle it when he says no aloud in a deep, gruff apology, and so you’ll just live here. In fantasy, where Dean’s attention is fixed on you and never strays. Because in this fake world, it’s only you and Dean, and you could like that forever.

And, right before sleep pulls you under, you could swear that Dean’s eyes on your are deep and blown-out with hunger, and realer than anything else in the world.

——————

Dean was starting to get the hang of this. It was surprisingly easy to do most of what the betterlust demanded, because they were things Dean already did all the damn time. Driving was an obvious one that he’d latched onto almost immediately—something in Dean’s brain had always felt a little easier to live with when he drove, and his hands never felt dirty when he was holding Baby’s wheel—and was easy to feed. Dean had to drive, because that’s how they got around. She and Sam knew him well enough to not try and ask and drive themselves, and it was part of Dean’s job to drive them between cases and the bunker, so satisfying the betterlust had pretty much been handed to him as a quick, easy fix.

But the trick seemed to be not feeding it too much. Taking just enough to satiate the betterlust into something that didn’t make him feel sick and hot, but keeping it from going overboard, because it was really fucking easy to go overboard. To get in the car and know that the drive could be short, but Sam had knocked himself out and She probably wouldn’t be far behind, so if Dean missed two or three turns or drove in an overly complex circle for two hours, nobody would stop him. They were only an hour from the bunker, nobody seemed to be upset by the additional time in Baby, and driving sent Dean’s head into some sort of humming, blissful joy he’d never felt in his damn life. It was like the quiet ease of driving had been duplicated, amplified, then shot right into his blood.

And two or three turns turned into nine or ten, and two hours became four. And She didn’t fall asleep, and the betterlust started to get hungry again. He couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror at Her drop-dead gorgeous face that couldn’t be his, and wanting her. Wanting Her to say one word to him, or smile at him, or sit just a little closer so he could offer the betterlust something. Anything that wasn’t this starving, tortuous, ugly need for Her. Closer closer closer, never close enough and She needs to be closer so Dean doesn’t rip off his own skin from how it’s boiling or pull out his tongue because it’s starting to cave in with words he’s not allowed to say.

Dean didn’t trust himself to talk to Her, but the longer she was awake, within his reach, and invading his head with Her everything, the closer he felt going batshit insane. He had to keep himself in fucking check, and figure out what he could be allowed to do with this.

He could not be allowed to touch Her. Touching Her was dangerous. Touching Her made this high feel like he’d died in the best way possible. Touching Her was like all the simple easy of driving and the sweet taste of pie and humming strength of a good drum line in a song that pounded in Dean’s chest were rolled into one thing that was soft and warm and just real good. The betterlust fall entirely silent just when his hand brushed against Her’s, then became loud and feral when the contact was taken away. Touching Her was so good that it made everything else became pointless. Touching Her was the best, so Dean could not be allowed to touch Her because then he’d never stop.

And this wasn’t dangerous. It was just driving, and everyone knew Dean loved driving, and Dean felt like he could walk away from this. That, when they parked and She and Sam shuffled back inside, Dean was strong enough to ignore the hungry voice in his head and itch in his hands to just start driving again. Just like how he’d eat a cheeseburger, but he didn’t always need to eat a cheeseburger. He’d eat pie, and then walk away. Dean could control this. The betterlust was easy to feed, and better to feed—She’d really nailed it on the head with that—and nobody got hurt.

As long as Dean kept himself under control, nobody got hurt.

So Dean could talk to Her. Be near Her with the knowledge that, if he let his gaze linger on Her peaceful, sleeping face for too long, he’d be more of a goner than he already was and never be able to look away. It was safe to do in the car, where he could pull his attention away because of safety and immediately offer the betterlust some more driving the fill the loss of Her. Dean could keep driving, and look at Her in moderation, and nobody would have to freak out about certain people being in love with certain other people, or an annoying, third person who was a massive lump in Baby’s back seat getting a smug I told you so face.

Sam was wrong, though. There wouldn’t be anything to be smug about with Her and Dean, because Sam was wrong. As they neared the bunker—for real this time—it was just Dean, the rumble of the engine, and the music, Dean fell further into his head. Usually the music could drown his thoughts out, but the betterlust was so determined to have Her that he needed to grab it and shout that having Her wasn’t a fucking option. Dean could offer the betterlust whatever it wanted, except Her. He tried to reason with it—She’s too good, Dean isn’t close to good enough, and She doesn’t want him so he can’t lose her over something dumb like feelings—but it didn’t seem interested in Dean’s flawless, rational logic. The betterlust just wanted Her in every way possible, and Dean couldn’t get Her, and this might be worse than the bloodlust. This was unfixable, and Dean wanted it just as much as the betterlust, and his chest was going to cave in on itself and take his heart down into his stomach, pressing it to tiny pieces and pushing it out so everyone could see how little control Dean had over his own goddamn body.

He’d have to get through this. They were only ten minutes from the bunker, and he’d work out how to see Her in moderation, and She wouldn’t get uncomfortable from how much of a sick, twisted, perverted son of a bitch he was, and he’d have Her as he was allowed to and never lose Her. He’d do every other thing that fed the betterlust, and nobody had to get hurt. The whole point of this was to stop the hurt, so Dean would get a fucking grip and live with what She and Sam had worked so hard to get him.

Then She started moaning. Dean thought it was just a noise of discomfort at first—he even slowed down so he didn’t disturb Her—but then she did it again, and it was breathless and needy and he was going to die. He could feel his face turn red, feel how his jeans were suddenly painful to wear and all the blood in his body was focused and throbbing where Dean needed Her, and all his plans of keep Her close but still at a manageable distance went out the window. Her lips were parted as Her breathing became heavy, She was squirming slightly in the seat under the touch of whatever the hell was doing that to her in her dreams, and Dean might have be forced to jump out of the car if he wasn’t already pulling into the bunker.

There was a long moment—right after he turned off the engine—where the only sounds were Sam’s snoring and Her moaning, and Dean wondered if this was hell. If Rowena had actually just killed him in that kiddie pool, and he was being tortured with Her looking and sounding and being like something he wanted to eat but was just out of his reach, all while his little brother slept in the back seat.

Dean adjusted himself in his seat—hiding his boner from Her view and blocking Her from Sam’s—and cleared his throat as loud as he possibly could.

Her eyes blinked open—hazy and blown out from either sleep or Her dream—and even Her adorable, sleepy yawn made Dean twitch in his pants.

“Hey,” She rolled a little onto her side, pushing herself upright, and Her voice sounded airy and soft and Dean could not look Her in the eyes. “Are we home?”

Dean grunted, nodding, and he had to get out of here. If he didn’t, he’d either kiss Her or explode. “Just parked,” he muttered, clenching his fists on Baby’s wheel in a slow pattern that usually calmed him down, but right now was doing jack shit. “Gonna go get some food.”

She hummed, leaning forward into Dean’s periphery with an expression he recognized as Her Dean, please be okay one. She was trying to kill him.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine. Hungry.” That wasn’t a lie. Dean was starving, just for something that wasn’t exactly food. It was right at his side, and probably wet and bitter in a way that would be so fucking good, and moan and whimper like a song, would shiver at his touch and grind on his hands and face and cock and-

He had to get out of here.

“Got pie in the freezer,” Dean said, pushing Baby’s door open in the way that he always yelled at Sam about. Too rough and reckless, practically punching her open, and he didn’t have the time to chastise himself or apologize to his car, because he had to go. “Wake up Sam for me.”

“Dean-“

“I said I’m good.”

“I know, but can you, can you please just look at me-“

Dean’s head turned of its own will, and it was the biggest mistake of his life. Her face was still slightly flushed, and she looked so nervous and worried, and her eyes were scanning over his face the same way they did in his dreams. Where he’d be covered in blood, and She’d look him over with care that never seemed to waver with doubt, and guide him into the shower. Strip them both, pull Dean under clear, steaming water and kiss him as all the blood was washed away. He’d be allowed to roll Her nipples between his fingers, and shove his knee between her thighs, and kiss Her until she said his name-

“Dean-“

He had to shake his head, force the spell of Her out of his vision and head and blood, and grab the betterlust by the throat to stop it from grabbing Her face and pulling it to his. She wouldn’t want that, and She shouldn’t do things she didn’t want to do, and Dean couldn’t be near Her like this. He still couldn’t control himself, and all of this had been a mistake because he could hurt something bad and sit in the guilt and hatred but still have Her, but now he couldn’t have Her at all.

He wasn’t even sure what his excuse was, but within the next ten seconds he was half running out of the garage, into the bunker, and locking himself in his room like some sort of feral animal. A beast that had to lock itself away from the people he loved, because they didn’t deserve him and he couldn’t force them to do more for him, and couldn’t stand to ask for what he wanted and be denied.

But he could get control back. He could find the smaller things that the betterlust wanted and keep feeding them. Drive and eat and maybe watching some fucking TV. Listen to music until he went deaf and work on Baby and stay the hell away from Her. She was dangerous to him. Not Her herself—She was awesome and cool and hot and Dean wanted Her on his face or lap or under his body, which was the problem—but the way the betterlust seemed to tunnel vision onto Her. The way Dean would just look at Her and his whole body would start to ache and boil and twist until he was talking to Her. And the more he spoke to Her the more he needed to touch her, and a little more control would slip, and eventually he’d just be unable to leave her side.

The distance was going to hurt Dean more than Her anyway. He’d figure out how to control this and immediately seek Her out when he did—She probably wouldn’t even notice he was avoiding Her—but until then he had to stay away. He’d agreed to this for things to be easier, not for himself, but for Her and Sam.

Staying away from Her would be easier for everyone. No complicated, emotional, chick flick conversations. No rejection. No showing Her that he wasn’t the strong, immovable man she was friends with and being tossed out onto the curb. Dean didn’t ever want to lose Her, this would make Her walk away—She wouldn’t want him, because she’d seen every single part of him and nobody would want them all—so Dean had to keep himself under control.

And it would be fine. Dean had control now, and he could feed the betterlust with so many other things, so this would be easy.

End Note: Answer to the last note - I am incapable of writing a short and sweet chapter, I had to make the whole mini-series an extra chapter, send help.

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