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andreafmn · 6 months ago

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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 26

Word Count: 4.0K Paring: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Requested by @elizabeth916: "Supernatural" Prompt @kinktober2023: Masturbation WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), slight voyeurism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, joint masturbation

Summary: After a hard life and a close brush with death via vampire, (Y/N) is taken in by Bobby Singer and taught the way of the hunters, even if that was the last thing he wanted for her. Add Dean and Sam Winchester into the mix, and she's more involved in the hunter lifestyle than before. Now, Dean is always always at odds with the girl. Even if he was the one who asked her to join them, he's always the one getting in her way. Sam says it's because he's in love with her. (Y/N) just thinks he's stubborn. One way or another, she's gonna find out they're both kind of right.

A/N: whoop, still doing this, I will try to finish before this october 🫣🫣 I've only gotten to season 5 of Supernatural so sorry this isn't more canon-centric

MASTERLIST

Constantly being on the road provided little privacy. Being the only girl in a team of hunters made it harder to have some. Being the only girl in a team of hunters that were brothers made it nearly impossible to have any.

But (Y/N) couldn’t complain. The Winchesters were the closest thing she had to a family, and they needed her help.

She had lost her parents at a young age and had made a life for herself as best as she could. She was sent from foster home to foster home until, at eighteen, she met Bobby Singer by chance during one of his hunts.

A couple of days before, she had been kidnapped by a young vampire as she walked from work and took her back to his nest, where she was fed upon from the moment she arrived. She believed she’d die there with nothing to show for her life other than a rundown apartment and a shitty waitressing job.

But just as everything had seemed bleak, Bobby had come in swinging a machete around and killed every single one of the vampires that had resided in the abandoned warehouse. Seeing the girl who was barely clinging to life, the man took her back to his motel and waited until she had regained consciousness.

He was sure she would scream, try to run away, or even hit him. Yet all she did was flutter her eyes open and thank him. She wasn’t afraid, nor was she angry. She had simply accepted what had happened to her as something else she had to deal with.

“You really ain’t scared of everything I just told you?” he had asked her that night as they ate some burgers. “I mean, I just told you that you almost died because of vampires, and you were more surprised that they put pickles in your burger.”

“I’ve dealt with worse shit in my life to find the supernatural unbelievable,” she shrugged. “With how my life goes, dying from a vampire is the least of my worries.”

Bobby had only met one other teenager as nonchalant and used to peril, and he had not been able to help him as much as he wanted to. But he knew he would always regret if he left (Y/N) to her own devices after meeting her. So, Bobby offered her a chance at a different life. Going against everything he had ever believed, he offered her a room at his place and a new job. And she said yes.

That answer had changed her entire existence.

(Y/N) took to the hunting lifestyle rapidly, finding it easier than being an eighteen-year-old girl living by herself in a sketchy part of town. She invested all her time and energy to get stronger and faster, wanting nothing more than to become better and better.

Bobby tried his best to keep her life balanced, especially after seeing what the hunting life had done to John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam. For years, he pushed her to have a social life and do things normal young people would. Still, he couldn’t squander her determination. So, when Dean called her up one day to help him and his brother find their father, she quickly agreed, much to Bobby’s dismay.

But once her mind was set on something, there wasn't much he could do; all he could do was hope she’d one day come back safe and sound.

And that was the day she had lost all sense of privacy. The trio jumped from motel to motel, and there was not enough money for two rooms. Thankfully, there always were two beds and sometimes a rickety couch, not that it helped the choking sexual tension between (Y/N) and the older Winchester.

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between them. Sure, Dean flirted with anything that walked on two legs, but it was different with (Y/N). He wanted much more than just a one-night lay with her. He wanted the entire package–the apple pie life he’d dreamed of.

But he wanted something different for her—something better than what he could offer. Like Bobby, he didn’t want her involved in the hunting business. He had even begged Bobby not to let her go. But Sam was right. If they had any chance of finding their father, it would have been with her by their side. Just because he had agreed to let her tag along did not mean he didn’t worry whenever they were on a mission. If he wasn’t making sure that Sam wasn’t hurt, he was worried that (Y/N) was, and more often than not, his concern came out more like hostility rather than worry.

Much like their latest case. The three of them were sat at a diner, a giant breakfast spread on the table before them, and the only one eating was Dean. (Y/N) and Sam had their noses buried in books and laptops, trying to gather all information they could about a particular nest of vampires that had made their home in a small town outside of Detroit.

The case was particularly personal for (Y/N). The vamps that had been running amok the town had been the same ones that had almost taken her life many years before. Just like Bobby had told her, they left an item of the person they abducted with a star drawn in their blood at the place they were taken from. The creatures looked for easy targets and always hunted in the darkest corners of the night.

Now, (Y/N) had a plan to get to their nest, but it seemed she was the only one who thought it was a good one. “I’m just saying that it’s worth a try,” she whispered as she sipped her coffee. “I can make myself a target, and they’ll think it’s fucking divine intervention that they got the one that got away. Then you guys can follow and kill them all. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.”

“Are you fucking serious, (Y/N)?” Dean seethed. “They could kill you on the spot. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now that could actually end this,” she countered. “Even Sam thinks that it’s good.”

“All I said was that it could technically work,” the younger Winchester defended. “But I also agree with Dean that it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care if I get hurt as long as we get them.”

“It’s not about you getting hurt, (Y/N),” Dean spat, slamming what was left of his sandwich onto the plate. “It’s about you fucking dying.”

“Well, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she countered with the same anger. “It’s my life we’re talking about here, Dean. Not yours.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he got up, grabbing his jacket in the process. “I’ll be in the room. I need to cool off.”

Sam and (Y/N) watched as the older Winchester left the diner, a cloud of steam almost visible in his step. It wasn’t the first time he had stormed out that way; it was his standard practice when things weren’t going according to his plan. But that moment, in particular, felt different. The energy was different.

“Okay, he needs to get over himself,” the girl muttered as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. “You guys cannot be the only ones allowed to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. I know I can get hurt. I signed up for this job just like you guys did.”

“I don’t know who’s more oblivious,” Sam snickered as he popped a slice of bacon in his mouth. “You seriously don’t understand why he acts like that with you?”

“Because he’s a total douche with a god-complex?”

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “Because he likes you and cares about what happens to you.”

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We’ve been through this before,” (Y/N) said. “The only things Dean Winchester cares about are his car and you. I don’t even fall in the top five.”

“Jesus, you’re both just so stubborn,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go talk to him, and then tell me if he doesn’t care.”

“He’s just gonna fight with me.”

“Go, (Y/N),” Sam exclaimed. “And actually talk to him.”

“Fine!” the young woman finally relented. “But you’re getting stuck with the research then.”

“Like that’s ever changed,” he scoffed jokingly. “Now, go.”

(Y/N) took the short walk back to the motel as slowly as she could, kicking a rock in her step as she fiddled with the key. It wasn’t the first time Sam had hinted at Dean’s supposed feelings for her. It had become his one source of teasing material since they had met for the first time. But she had always taken it as a joke, nothing more—just a quip a little brother used to bother his older brother. There was no way there was any truth to it. And if going to the room proved that, then that was what (Y/N) had to do.

As she neared the motel, she caught a glimpse of Baby, and a slight chuckle bubbled in her throat. That car was Dean’s one true love, and she knew that. He treated his vehicle better than any of the women he paraded in and out of their motel rooms or even the ones who never made it out of the bars. Hell, he treated it better than her or Sam at times.

That was the reason she had never admitted her feelings in the almost eight years she had known him. (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t be reciprocated. Dean had never given a single indication that he’d ever share her sentiment. Well, other than Sam’s words. But who could believe him then?

All she needed was one sign. A simple whisper from the universe that he did share in those feelings. That the reason he fought with her so much was because there were so many emotions bottled up inside him that he couldn’t help how they came out. Just one sign.

“(Y/N),” she heard an exhale as she neared the motel door. It was raspy and guttural, and she knew it had not come from the wind. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She could have been dreaming. In the supernatural world, anything was possible. But the metal doorknob felt too cold in her hand, and the key turned too loudly for it to be her imagination. Behind that door, a scene was unfolding that surpassed her wildest fantasies, and she was the main character without knowing it.

(Y/N) opened the door slowly, pulling it upward to avoid the whining of the hinges, and she came face-to-face with something she could have only dreamed of. In fact, she was sure she had dreamt it before.

Dean was splayed in the middle of her bed, his hard cock in one hand and a pair of her underwear in the other. He ran his hand up and down his length, easing his pumping with the leaking precum that stained him. After every few strokes, he’d bring the piece of fabric to his face, taking a long drag before muttering (Y/N)’s name once more.

His eyes were pressed shut, and his movements were erratic. Dean was close, that much she could tell. She could see it in the way he breathed, in the way his hips stuttered, and the way his skin had grown red and flushed. Dean was reaching his climax with her name spilling from his tongue.

“So fucking stubborn,” he croaked out as his seed spilled all over his stomach. “(Y/N), fu~uck.”

“Good to know my underwear didn’t just disappear three months ago,” she grinned as she finally made herself known. “Didn’t take you for a panty sniffer, Deanie.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean exclaimed as he tried his best to cover himself. He pulled the sheets from under himself, pulling too hard and falling to the floor with a loud thud. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know who you were thinking about,” (Y/N) taunted as she approached him. His legs were still on the bed, and his jeans pooled around his ankles while the sheet covered the rest of his body. At any given time, she would have made fun of him; tease him until he begged her to stop. But the heat that pooled between her legs had blurred her mind, and all that she wanted was to replace the hand that was working him. “Something you wanna tell me, Dean?”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Dean huffed as he tried to get up. “It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think, Deanie? What did I just walk into?”

“I just needed to relieve some stress.”

“Oh, and do you always relieve your stress thinking of me?” (Y/N) mewled as she knelt down, her breath hot on his skin as she whispered in his ear. He stiffened up at her closeness, trying his best not to touch her. “See what I think, Deanie, is that what Sam’s been telling me is the truth. That you like me and that you care about me. And since daddy never taught you how to express yourself correctly, you just let everything out when you’re angry.”

Those words ignited a fire in Dean. He no longer cared about his lack of clothing or the situation (Y/N) had caught him in. All he wanted was to regain control. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he growled as he flipped her onto the ground and towered over her. “You think that just because you caught me like this, you know everything now?”

“I know enough,” she smirked up at him as she fought against his grip. “Matter of fact, I can feel it against my leg right now.”

“And you think it’s for you? You think you’re the only (Y/N) out there?”

“I’m the only one you know,” she teased. “And I’m the one whose panties you were sniffing.”

“It’s just a matter of convenience, (Y/N),” he shrugged. “You’re here. That’s that.”

“Are you sure, Dean? Because I’ve never seen you hoard the underwear of any of your past playdates. So, why mine? And why were you jacking off with my name rolling off your tongue?” (Y/N) propped her torso up by her elbows, pressing the tip of her nose to his, testing the waters before diving in. “And what if I told you I felt the same way, Deanie? What if I said that I’ve thought of you with my own hand down my pants? That I’ve edged myself for hours thinking of what you could do to me. And it’s not a matter of convenience for me, Dean. It’s the real deal.”

Dean couldn’t believe what the woman under him was saying. He’d gone so long thinking his feelings were one-sided that Sam only told him the things he wanted to hear. To him, (Y/N) was too smart and too beautiful ever to want to be with him. He wasn’t what she deserved, but now he knew he was what she wanted.

“Tell me you’re messing with me,” he grumbled. “Tell me this is just one big joke.”

“Why do you want me to lie to you, Dean? Is it so hard to believe that someone can feel something for you? That I love you?”

“You don’t mean that,” he continued. “How would you know what you feel is real? It’s not like you have a lot of options on the road.”

“Because I’ve felt like this from the moment I met you, Dean,” she confessed. Her heart had begun hammering inside her chest, begging for a moment of rest. But that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. “Why don’t you want to believe that I could feel this way about you?”

“Because you deserve better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear it. “I’m not better.”

(Y/N) knew words were not enough to calm the doubts that drowned his mind, but she knew how she could show it. With a smile on her face, she pulled one of Dean’s hands with her own as she unzipped her pants with her other. She moved their interlocked hands to the wetness that had pooled in her core, pressing his calloused fingers on the aching bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. “I know what I deserve,” she hissed. “And I know what I want, Dean. I want you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he argued. But his fingers were telling another story. As if by instinct, his digits had started circling her clit, rubbing circles and shapes over the bud. “I’m damaged goods, (Y/N). I’m no good.”

“And I’m not better,” she added. “We all have a past, Dean. It can’t stop us from living in the present.”

“Is that what you’re doing, then?” Dean chuckled. “Living in the present?”

“We both are, Deanie,” (Y/N) grinned mischievously, knowing she had won him over. “As soon as you give in, baby.”

“You win, then,” he smiled. “For now.”

Dean pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s, savoring their softness and their warmth. It was everything he had imagined and more. They moved perfectly in sync, fitting into each other’s empty spaces like they had been crafted for each other. And maybe they were. Maybe they were part of some divine plan and had no idea. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. It was the fact that they were together that made everything just right.

“So, is this all because of me?” Dean taunted as he teased her folds. “This how you always are?”

“Yeah,” she sighed in pleasure. “I can’t help it when I’m with you.”

“Wish I had known earlier,” he grinned deviously. “I would have been taking care of you, (Y/N).”

“I think we’ve been taking care of ourselves quite well,” (Y/N) teased. “I mean, from what I saw today, you got your system down.”

“Oh, is that so? That mean you got your system too?”

“Well, I have not heard any complaints yet,” she chuckled. “I kind of know my body quite well.”

“Show me then.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” Dean smiled. “Get up on the bed and show me how you touch yourself thinking of me, baby.”

Dean slipped an arm under her legs and another on her back and carried her to the bed, where he laid her body softly on the mattress. He kissed his way down her body as he rid her of her clothes, revealing the valley of her skin and marking his path with his mouth.

“Show me,” he said as he kissed down her legs. “Show me what you do.”

“You gotta get off me first,” she chuckled. “Or are you gonna do the work for me?”

“As tempting as that sounds, baby, we gotta even the fields here. And we don’t have much time.”

With a slight chuckle, (Y/N) situated herself comfortably on the bed, propping her back up with a few pillows. Just enough so she could see Dean’s form. He had dragged a chair and rested it just at the foot of the bed, his eyes firmly trained on the woman’s body.

Soon enough, (Y/N)’s hands set off to work instinctively. They roamed her body sensuously, squeezing and kneading her most sensitive spots. As they worked their way through her skin, one rested upon her breast as the other made its way between her legs. She spread her limbs wide, giving Dean the show of a lifetime as her digits spread her folds and gathered her wetness before landing on her aching clit.

She knew it was her hands that were touching her, but her mind quickly tricked her into thinking it was Dean’s calloused fingers running across her body. In her head, it was him that was toying with her clit, it was him that was pinching her hardened nipples, it was him that was bringing her closer and closer to her awaited orgasm.

But it was clear that it wasn’t. Where he sat, Dean had taken his hard cock back into his hand, pumping at the same rate (Y/N) was touching herself. He slid his hand up and down his length, using his thumb to circle the head as precum coated him. In his head, it was her hand wrapped around him, squeezing softly as he tried to ride out his climax as long as he could.

“Fuck yourself, baby,” Dean groaned out. “I’m getting close here.”

“I always knew you were always too fast to the finish line,” she teased, concealing a moan that burst through. “Might just call you two-minute Dean.”

“You really know how to shatter the fantasy, (Y/N),” he sighed. “Just do it, baby.”

“Alright, but stop talking, Dean. You’re wrecking my fantasy here.”

After Dean finally quieted, stifling a moan that was bubbling, (Y/N) continued with her work. The hand that had been touching her chest slithered down her body, sinking into her core as her other hand continued her attack on her clit.

Moans and pants left her as she pistoned into her cunt, her digits curling at the end to bring her that much closer to her climax. She could see how hard it was for the man before her to keep up with her speed. His skin had started to redden and beads of sweat had formed across his body. His chest heaved quickly, and his movements stuttered as he held onto whatever resolution he had left.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned. “I’m so close, baby.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he stammered. “Keep going. Cum for me, baby.”

(Y/N)’s picked up speed as she felt the tight coil in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap. She had done that dance many times before, searching, pushing, beckoning her orgasm to the brink. But it was the first time the Dean that was before her was real, close enough she could touch him. Close enough he could touch her.

It was that very thought that had her yelling out his name as her finish washed over her body, drenching her hands in her essence. Close behind, Dean burst across his stomach with her name dripping from his tongue, his eyes firmly trained on hers.

Dean took her into another rough kiss as they came down from their respective orgasms, her lips so irresistible he didn’t care how out of breath he was. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted. “So fucking perfect, baby.”

“Was that everything you had dreamed of?” (Y/N) teased with a grin. “Was that what was running through your head when I caught you?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek. “It was more of a contact sport, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Well, we still got some time to kill before nightfall,” she offered. “And I’ve got enough for a round two.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

As Dean kissed his way down (Y/N)’s neck, a knock on the door startled them apart, sending them scrambling for their clothes.

“Guys?” Sam called from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay with you two? We really need to get ready for tonight.”

“Fucking Sammy,” Dean grumbled quietly, his eyes rolling as he slipped his t-shirt on. “We were just getting done talking.”

“No fighting?”

“We were very civil, Sam,” (Y/N) called out, trying her best to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. The pair had gotten dressed in record time, fixing the bed and brushing their hair. She was slipping on her boots when she whispered to Dean, “We are definitely getting a raincheck on that round two, Dean.”

“Oh, you betcha, baby,” he grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be caught in the act.”

“Just be grateful it was me and not Sam,” she smiled before kissing him once more. “Now, let’s go kill us some vampires.”

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 6

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

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

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

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 6: “Just Casual”

A few days after the house fire that claimed the life of Paul Richardson, father of two, Chief Bobby Singer was joined in his office by Detectives Winchester and Novak, along with his resident Squad Captain and Truck Lieutenant, Benny and Dean.

“The Richardson fire has officially been determined an arson,” Bobby revealed.

“They found a time-delay incendiary device hidden in the attic. No fingerprints. But that’s not even the odd thing,” he said. “The medical examiner found a brand mark on his wrist that was inconsistent with his other burns. Which is why you’re here, I reckon.”

Bobby directed his gaze at both John and Cas, who didn’t look surprised to hear this news.

Dean raised a brow. His gaze shifted to his father, but John only met his stare for a moment before he answered Bobby’s unspoken question.

“We’ve been investigating a series of murders in the area over the past six months,” John said. “Each victim died in their home, with the same brand somewhere on their body. Typically the wrist, or the back of the neck.”

“So we officially have a serial killer turned arsonist on our hands,” Bobby concluded. His attention shifted to Benny and Dean. “Keep this close to the vest, but keep your eyes open.”

“Arsonists are hard to catch,” Dean said, looking to the detectives. “What do you know about this guy?”

Cas glanced at John. The older man could feel his stare, but had to ignore it for now.

“Not much as of yet,” John said. “Right now he’s a coil of smoke, if you’ll pardon the phrase. Our psychologist says he’s most likely a white male, statistically speaking. College educated, or at the very least intelligent, efficient, and so far, he thinks every step through. Like he said, no prints. But the brand is a message.”

“To who, and why, is what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Cas added. “We think that’s the key to pinpointing a suspect.”

“Really,” Dean said. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Six months, and that’s all you’ve got?”

“Dean,” John started, but the Lieutenant shook his head.

“Come on, Dad. I know you. Who is this guy?”

“Dean, this is the best I can give you right now, but believe me, we’re working on it,” John said, that tone that boded no further argument.

Bullshit, Dean wanted to shoot back. But he held his tongue for now. He knew that John wouldn’t budge. Instinct still told Dean that his father was holding something back though.

As the men filtered out of Bobby’s office, Dean held Cas back for a moment.

“Watch the old man’s back, all right,” Dean said. “He’s got a penchant for being reckless.”

Cas gave him a wry, pointed look. “I’m doing my best. Winchesters are a stubborn lot.”

Dean smirked and walked out with him. Meg was headed inside, having just come in from an ambulance call. She smiled when she saw her boyfriend.

“Hey, lover,” she greeted. And she smacked his ass in front of God and the entire Rescue Squad, who liked to sit outside the firehouse and play cards at their table.

Ramirez and the others smirked and called out their customary whoops and cat calls. Dean smirked at the actual blushing discomfort that tightened up Cas’s face and shoulders.

“Dinner tonight at Casablanca’s, right?” Meg asked, unfazed by the catcalling peanut gallery.

“Right,” Cas said stiffly. But he still brushed her cheek with his thumb in affection. “See you later.”

“Yep,” she nodded, though she shot Dean a wry brow. “What? I stole your boyfriend. Get over it.”

She continued on her path back inside the firehouse, leaving Dean and Cas to stare after her in annoyance and begrudging fondness, respectively.

Dean turned to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck and Godspeed, my friend. That woman’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

Cas gave him a lazy salute as he walked away. He found that John had already started up their police car. He was in the driver’s seat, as always, with a hand resting casually on the steering wheel.

Dean typically sat in much the same way. Cas thought both men were more comfortable in a car than anywhere else in life. Except, maybe, the precinct and the firehouse.

Cas slid into the passenger seat and gave his partner a knowing look.

“I still think you should tell Sam and Dean what’s really happening here,” he said.

John looked over at him with an almost unreadable expression. But they had been partners for a few years now; long enough for Cas to get a read on the older veteran.

“I understand why you want to keep them out of this, but now this guy is starting fires. Here, in Dean’s district,” Cas pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be safer for him if he had clearer eyes walking into the next one?”

If, God forbid, something should go wrong on the next call Dean responded to, John would never forgive himself. Both he and Cas knew this, but John never answered his partner’s question. He didn’t want his sons getting their noses in this just yet, even if it meant the worry he saw in Dean’s eyes.

So he put the car in “drive” and peeled away from the firehouse.

Trying to match your schedule with Dean’s was a challenge you two were trying to figure out. Though you’d fallen into a pattern of talking on the phone to fill the void when you two couldn’t meet.

Even after almost two more weeks and a third date, you were pleasantly surprised that you and Dean still had plenty to talk about. You told him more about your childhood with your grandparents, while he told you funny stories about him and Sam growing up with their dad, though he was often gone while working on cases.

It was family friend and Fire Chief, Bobby Singer who looked after them whenever John couldn’t, or his old partner Jody Mills, or even Ellen Harvelle, owner of the Roadhouse.

The more you learned about Dean, the more invested you became. And he listened to you when you went on tangents about new recipes you wanted to try out (as long as he got to be your official Taste Tester).

You two argued, playfully and fervently, about music. And you’d been creating a list of old shows the other hadn’t seen, but absolutely needed to.

Dean had suggested Dukes of Hazzard, for example, while you suggested Smallville. You each only agreed to put up with this list if you two watched it together. (Needless to say, there would be some marathon binge watching in your future.)

You particularly took notice though, when Dean invited you to join him at the Roadhouse to meet Cas, one of his best friends, and his girlfriend Meg. You’d invited Andréa to come along, and even Dean’s friend Benny, who she’d also been seeing ever since that night at the Roadhouse.

Apparently, the couple had their own plans.

You tried not to feel some type of way about her brush-off, but your friend had been increasingly distant since she met Benny Lafitte. However, you supposed you couldn’t judge. You hadn’t been calling her as much either, ever since you met Dean.

You knew that if you kept dating him, some adjustments would have to come in your life. You also promised yourself that you’d never be someone who forgot your friends for a man…even for a man like Dean Winchester.

Tonight, however, you’d come directly from work to meet him at the bar. It made more sense than to make him come pick you up from your house, so you sat with a ginger ale while you waited. He’d promised you via text that he was on the way, just stuck in traffic.

Okay, drive safe. 😘 Don’t speed, please.

You knew how he liked floor the Impala with that damn lead foot of his.

No promises. 🏎️

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were smiling unconsciously as you read his reply.

You were soon knocked out of your thoughts when a smooth voice said your name. You looked up and to your right, and there stood a familiar face. The man greeted you with an easy smile as he sat down next to you.

“I thought that was you,” he said. He reached out his hand and re-introduced himself. “Gordon Walker. Not sure if you remember me.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do, Gordon,” you smiled and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. His dark eyes subtly took you in from head to toe in your skirt, heels, and blouse. “Though I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, right,” you said. “Well—”

Before you could explain, Gordon held up a finger as he noticed your drink of choice.

“Oh, wait a sec. Let me get you something stronger than soda,” he said. He started to flag down Jo, but you shook your head and made a cutting motion with your hand.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant.

It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush. You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh. Your hand clenched on the counter.

While your brain scrambled to figure out a response that would successfully remove it (without snapping rudely like you were itching to), a hand slipped along your lower back.

You jolted a bit in your seat with a flare of unease, until you turned your head and found Dean.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and dropped a kiss at your hairline. He also clapped a heavy hand on Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed. The other man graciously got the hint and leaned back, withdrawing his hand from your thigh.

“Hi,” you said, finally able to breathe a bit easier. You gave Dean a smile, and he returned it.

He looked over at his friend with a sharper smile. “Hey, Gord. How’s your night goin’?”

“Good.” Gordon nodded, now with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Though I’m sure your night’s gonna go better.”

You weren’t sure how to take that remark, considering the way Dean reacted with a tighter expression and pursed lips. Then, they flickered at a smile.

“Well, we’re meeting up with Meg and Cas in a minute. You should join us,” Dean said. Even though his tone wasn’t so very inviting. The two men seemed to have a wordless conversation between the lines that you couldn’t decipher.

Gordon shook his head, but raised his drink. “No worries, you guys hang. I’m leaving in a few.”

“All right. Let us know if you change your mind,” Dean said. He thumped Gordon once more on the back, more friendly this time.

Dean’s other hand slipped around your waist. He tapped you on the side.

“Come on, I’ve got us a table. It’s quieter,” he said.

You nodded and slid out of your seat. You offered Gordon a polite smile, even if you’d rather not.

“Have a good night,” you said.

The other man’s smile was less flirtatious and more polite this time as well.

“You too,” he said.

Dean helped you onto your feet, like the gentleman he was, and he continued to lead you away from the bar with a hand on the small of your back. You instinctively pressed against his side to squeeze past the throng of patrons.

When you reached a high-top table in the corner, he pulled out your chair and held your hand as you climbed up in your skirt. You thanked him with a more genuine smile. Though once he was seated next to you, you leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

“I tried to tell him I was waiting for you. He took me by surprise,” you whispered.

Dean’s brows rose, but his face soon evened out with a smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry about it. He didn’t know about us,” he said. “He was shootin’ his shot…a bit aggressively. Sorry about that.”

“Oh…it’s okay. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you replied. Though butterflies ran through your belly when you considered what us meant.

You noted his frown at what you’d said though, and so you aimed to change the subject.

“But Cas and Meg know, right?” you asked.

Dean nodded. His frown started to lift. “Yeah. Cas is one of my best friends. Meg is…well. She’s the little sister I wish I didn’t have.”

You shook your head in amusement. Then you let out a squeal as Dean hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and brought you closer. He stopped you from becoming too unbalanced by wrapping an arm around your waist. You clenched your hands into the open panels of his plaid shirt, and his charming smile greeted you.

“Hi,” he said.

You laughed. “Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”

“Well, I’m doing it right this time,” he said. And he dipped down for a lingering kiss.

Across the bar was Jo Harvelle, doing her job behind the counter. She poured five shots in succession and doled them out to a party of frat bros without even looking.

Her eyes were drawn to the back corner of the bar, where you and Dean sat closely together, exchanging whispers and the occasional steamy kiss.

“Mind your business,” came Ellen’s whisper in her ear.

Jo whipped her head to glare softly at her mother, but she saw Ellen’s point. It was both obvious and pathetic of her to stare.

Despite the unease making her feel a bit sick to her stomach, Jo went over to Gordon down at the end. His sympathetic smile bothered her; she knew then she hadn’t just been caught by her mother.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“What?” Jo said. She began wiping down his area of the counter. “Would it kill you to keep it in the glass?”

Gordon gave her an amused look as he sat back in his seat. His tumbler of whiskey was drained.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he said.

Both of them knew he wasn’t apologizing for the spill.

Jo’s brows knitted together, mostly in annoyance. “Again, for what?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard to see him actually moving on,” he replied.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes darted to the back of the room again. She stared for a moment at the side of your face.

“Knowing him, whatever it is won’t last,” she muttered.

Gordon hissed at the "burn," with a deep chuckle. She knew her words weren’t kind, but it was how she felt.

“That may be,” he allowed. “But he’s not just chasing tail anymore. That’s what scares you.”

Gordon dropped a nice tip for her next to his glass. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and left Jo with the churning in her gut.

Cas and Meg finally arrived a few minutes later.

Dean knew you’d been to the Roadhouse before, but this was different. You were meeting some of his friends, and he realized how much he wanted you to. He felt…comfortable around you. And he wanted his friends to know you, and to like you.

“As you know, Meg’s our Paramedic in Charge over at 25,” he began, gesturing at the woman as she got settled in her seat.

You admired her long brown hair, tall boots, and black leather jacket. She seemed to ooze confidence and dark charisma as she tossed you a smirk.

“Guilty,” she said.

You smiled back. Dean gestured at her boyfriend next, clad in a beige trench coat, slacks, and blazer.

“And Cas, who bravely suffers being my dad’s partner on the job.”

Cas nodded wryly at the introduction. His dark hair and blue eyes were striking, you could admit. His tie was loose and slightly rumpled. Along with the stubble coating his face, he was handsome, if a bit scruffy. It was hard for you to believe he’d earned the top scores his year in the Police Academy, but you supposed that looks could be deceiving.

“What’s that like?” you asked with a smirk. “From what I’ve heard about John Winchester, he sounds like he’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Dean barked with a dry laugh. “An understatement.”

“He has a crab-like shell,” Cas agreed. “But he has a soft center where it counts, not unlike his sons.”

You turned to Dean with a more teasing smile. “Aww…”

He rolled his eyes, even though his arm, which had been draped across the back your chair, now dropped to curl around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Columbo,” he remarked at his blue-eyed friend.

Always had to get the last dig in, it seemed, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little along with Meg at Cas’s expense.

“You guys all seem really close,” you said. It was nice for you to see.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. Or rather, like it was commonplace.

“Well, maybe family ain’t just about blood,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What a friggin’ sap.”

“You love it,” Dean grinned. She smiled, begrudgingly.

Family ain’t just about blood.

You liked that sentiment as well. It seemed to be true here.

Even Ellen Harvelle treated Dean like a son when she came over to greet your table. She kissed his cheek and gave Meg and Cas’s shoulders a squeeze. Even you got a warm hand on your shoulder when she introduced herself.

“Welcome, hun. I understand it’s not your first time here, but if you got any questions on the menu, you let me know,” she said.

Dean shot you a conspiratorial smile, and it got you wondering what he was about to do.

“I mean, I don’t know why you don’t put the order in for chili fries the second you see me come through the door,” he teased. “Come on, Ellen. How long’ve I been coming here? Since before I had a license?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and flicked the side of Dean’s head, regardless of his flinching protest.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that so damn loud,” she reproached. “You never drank underage at my bar.”

His eyes averted with a smile, in a way that told you Ellen was a damn liar. You bit your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Anyway, I’ll get your damn fries—”

“And a beer,” Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes.

“And a beer. Four?” she pointed at the rest of you, and you, Cas, and Meg nodded in agreement.

“All right, four beers. Anything else, darlin’?” She looked at you with a mother’s charm.

You looked up from the menu and unconsciously smiled.

“Um, sure. Can I get the chicken sandwich?”

She patted your shoulder. “You sure can.”

Ellen then took the rest of their orders without writing a thing down. You were impressed by her memory. At the end though, Dean didn’t let her go without a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a more sincere smile.

“A-huh,” she replied, with all due sarcasm. But there was a fondness in her eyes that was hard to miss when she playfully grabbed the back of his neck. “Knucklehead.”

A giggle escaped you, and Ellen tossed you a wink before she went to put in the orders and get the drinks.

Conversation flowed easier when the alcohol came. One beer became two, and even three (four, for Meg). By then, you were sure it was one beer too many for yourself, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You were mostly listening to the three of them bounce back and forth between reminiscing with old stories and roasting one another mercilessly.

It was hilarious and entertaining, but you were trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of the volleying. Inevitably though, Meg’s attention turned to you with a certain sly smile.

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Meg,” Dean’s voice cut like a warning.

Your eyes widened as you took in the change, his deeper voice, his more serious gaze, versus Meg’s nonchalance. Even Cas gave her a chiding look.

“Not sure I want to know what that means,” you tried to joke.

But you could guess. It was fairly obvious.

You glanced over at Dean, whose lips pursed. Before either of you could say anything more, Meg chimed in.

“Oooh, is this gonna be your first fight?” she teased.

Dean’s brows furrowed with a glare. “That’s enough.”

“And that’s our cue,” Cas nodded. He’d already slipped out his wallet as soon as his girlfriend started talking. He left a generous few bills to cover their half of the night, plus tip, and got up out of his seat. He claimed his coat and then encouraged Meg off her chair.

“What? I’m not done with my beer,” she protested.

“I think you are,” Cas said.

Meg scoffed, but she allowed his manhandling as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

“You’re not the boss of me, Clarence,” she snipped.

“Certainly not,” he agreed. “But you’re a lightweight. Time to go home, before you insult the entire bar.”

“You’re no fucking fair,” she groused, hitting his chest over his jacket. Cas leveled you and Dean with a long-suffering look of apology.

Dean waved him off with a “no sweat it” look and a shake of his head. Meg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, especially when she was drunk. He turned to you with a sigh.

“Again, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for my friends more than once tonight,” he said.

You shook your head. “It’s...okay. Overall, they were really fun.”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t think Cas has been called fun even once in his life.”

You smiled in amusement, but Meg’s words still swirled around in your head like heady wine.

“Dean,” you began, but your attempt to broach the issue was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and fished in his pocket for his phone. His brows rose when he saw the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay—” You’d barely nodded when Dean was up and out of his chair, heading out of the bar. You could still see him through one of the faded glass doors as he held the phone up to his ear.

It was late, and quieter now. A blonde server came to take your plates, and you actually remembered her.

“Oh, hi! Jo, right?” you asked. She hesitated when you spoke, but she bobbed her head.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s really nice.”

Jo uttered a wry laugh as she stacked the plates and silverware. You helped her collect the silverware and empty beer bottles.

“Yeah, when you get her good side,” she replied.

You smirked at that, remembering how Ellen snapped back and forth with Dean. You had no doubt that woman could be a pistol if you pissed her off.

“Well, it's nice here,” you admitted, once again taking stock of the décor. The music, the warm lighting, the good food… “It’s cozy.”

Jo’s smile quirked to one side as she paused.

“Well, it’s been in my family for three generations of Harvelles,” she said. “This was my father’s favorite place in the world.”

You caught the note of melancholy in her words, in her eyes.

“Was?” you echoed. She met your gaze and nodded.

“He was a firefighter,” she said. “He died on the job.”

You dimmed considerably. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jo only nodded.

“How did he…” Your curiosity got the best of you, but you soon shook your head and backtracked. “Never mind, you don’t have to explain.”

“It was a fire that wasn’t properly vented,” Jo answered your half-spoken question. Her blue eyes were heavier. “He got caught in an updraft…but he actually worked at Firehouse 25. He was their brother. That’s why this’ll always be their place.”

You processed that with a slow nod of wonder.

“It’s good that you and your mom will always have that support,” you said eventually. “Even though…it might be hard too, to always be reminded.”

Jo’s lips quirked again. “It’s more the first one, but…sometimes the second one. A lot of these guys have known me since I had braces. It’s hard to shake that perpetual little sister thing.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d imagine that gets old real quick. A bunch of over-protective older brothers.”

“Overbearing, more like,” she scoffed. You laughed.

Unconsciously, you glanced over to the front of the bar, where you saw Dean still on the phone. You remembered the second date you were meant to have, when he was late due to a five-car pileup his team responded to.

You remembered that night he called you for the first time, after a long day he didn’t want to tell you about. He’d let you distract him instead. All the while, it had you wondering what he’d seen. What he’d responded to that day.

Had it been another car accident? A fire? What made someone as upbeat and funny and smooth as Dean seem to lose all the life in his voice?

Though while you were lost in your thoughts, Jo was watching you.

Jealousy roiled inside her, unbidden. She didn’t want to hate you, because unlike the girls Dean usually messed around with, you had some self-respect. Jo heard Meg’s snide clips at you earlier, and no one could fake the surprise in your eyes. Unless you were just that good a damn actor…

But no, she didn’t get that vibe from you.

It didn’t mean she had to like you though.

“You’re right to think twice,” Jo said, earning your attention back with a swivel of your head. “What Meg said…she wasn’t wrong. Dean’s broken a few hearts, if you catch my drift.”

Just a few well-placed words, Jo thought. She realized then that she had the power to twist the wrench here, widening the gap between you and Dean. Feed your doubts.

She didn’t have to feel bad about it if it was the truth.

And yet…she saw the way your gaze fell. The disappointment setting in, the anxious clench of your hands on the table. You glanced over at Dean again out of the corner of your eye.

Jo realized then just what she was doing, not just to Dean, but to herself.

You’re not some petty bitch, she dully reminded herself.

“But,” she found herself adding. You raised your gaze back to her. Jo let out a subtle breath.

“It’s not always his fault,” she admitted. And maybe she was speaking a bit too much from experience. “The job demands a lot from him.”

Slowly, you nodded. You looked pensive, but not like you’d made up your mind.

Fine, Jo thought, as she collected the dishes and left your table.

She didn’t know if she wanted to sway you one way or the other on taking a chance on Dean Winchester.

While you were talking to Jo, Dean was taking his father’s unexpected call.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” he said.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” John’s voice was gruff and tired. Dean frowned to hear it.

“I’m good. I’m out right now, but did you need something?”

“Have you responded to any fires lately?”

“You mean like the Richardson fire?” Dean asked pointedly. “No, haven’t had one since. And no cattle prod brandings either.”

“All right, good. Just checking in.”

Good? Dean thought. John would be chomping at the bit for a new arson. If he was “just checking in,” then he was worried about something. Is he worried about me?

“What’s going on? Is there something I need to know?” Dean asked in suspicion. This was why he had taken the call. “Seriously, you can tell me. I’m not even gonna bitch at you like Sam does.”

John chuckled. But then he hesitated. Dean knew he’d hit on something.

“Dad?” he pressed.

John’s sigh was a heavy one. “Okay. What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in trepidation. “Okay, fine. What the hell is it?”

“Richardson, the father of two?” John reminded. “He was a lawyer, linked to a money laundering scheme through a company called Stull Storage. It’s an old company, dates back to the seventies.”

“Okay…”

As John continued to explain, the more confused Dean became…

About 30 years ago, John Winchester had been a young, but promising officer in the Narcotics division. He’d married young, and by then was just barely clearing the five-year mark. Already he had the house he’d inherited from his wife’s parents, a four-year-old son, and a newborn.

Stull Storage’s units were used by a drug ring that John had been trying to infiltrate, undercover. Those units had stored cocaine, illegal weapons, and other flavors of contraband, mostly from South America (and back).

“We got close to breaking that case, once, but after the fire…I transferred out of Narcotics, as you know,” John said.

Dean knew the real story there. After his mom died, his father went into a spiral, trying to find whoever set that fire—even after the Fire Department found no evidence of arson. John had eventually been forced out of Narcotics. He requested Homicide.

As he’d told Dean once when he was extremely drunk: I seem to do better at my job when the bodies are already dead.

“Now I know that I was right about your mother’s death,” John said.

Dean released a shaky sigh. “Aw, man. Not this again, Dad. For Christ’s sake.”

“There was something wrong about that fire, Dean,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Dean’s objections. “I just didn’t find the connection…until now.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. His gaze fell to the ground. Sam was usually the one who drew a hard line at hearing any more about their mom’s supposed murder, but now Dean had reached the end of his tether. It was too much.

He glanced back through the glass doors to make sure you were okay. He saw you talking to Jo, and he frowned at himself.

Here you were, waiting on him back in the bar, and his dad was calling him in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts again.

“Look…it’s been my whole damn life with this.” Dean held the phone to his ear with one hand, and rubbed at his forehead with the other. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Dean, listen,” John urged. “You wanna know what I’m digging into, this is it. I got Mary’s file unsealed.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What? Thought you couldn’t do that without new evidence and a court order.”

“Well, I’ve got the evidence…maybe I was a bit impatient with the court order.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His father liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules.

“At the time, the medical examiner dismissed it. She’d been burned…” John paused on a deeper breath. “But I saw it. Mary had a burn on her wrist. It was the same brand found on Richardson. On Jerry Stillwell, CPA. Amanda Waller, journalist. It’s all connected, Dean. How they’re connected to one another, I’m not sure yet. We’re still digging…but I do know this. Richardson was a message.”

Dean’s back hit the wall of the Roadhouse. His brows furrowed as he struggled to digest everything John was saying.

“A message?” he asked. “To who?”

“To me, I think. Those kids, and their mother…you got ‘em out alive, but they weren’t meant to,” John said, his voice sounding heavy. "The wife told me her husband was erratic when he got home, holding his wrist. He'd been burned before the fire. He wouldn't say what happened...then they smelled the goddamn smoke."

"Shit," Dean replied. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand to his forehead. There was an ache starting between his eyes.

“Yeah," John agreed. "The drug ring I was investigating, when I was in Narcotics. I was getting close. And I mean close. I was about to get the Big Kahuna. The kingpin of the whole operation…and then the house fire.”

Fuck. Dean wiped at his mouth anxiously as he realized what John was saying. Fuck.

“He burned me, Dean. He must have,” John said. Meaning, the drug lord he was trying to pin down somehow discovered his identity. “Your mom paid the price of that.”

“Who is this guy?” Dean asked. His hand holding the phone was starting to tremble.

“I still don’t know his real name. Workin’ on that one too,” John said. “But they called him Azazel.”

When Dean eventually hung up with his father and returned to you at the bar, he saw you brighten. But you soon dimmed with a tinge of worry. Something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face.

Shit. He tried his best to school his features.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he said, grasping your shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“I met you here, remember?” you asked.

Dean paused, then shook his head. Get it together, asshole.

“Right," he said. "Well, I’ll walk you to your car. Let me just pay real quick.”

After he sorted out the bill (he didn’t know that you’d slipped in an extra $30 in Cas’s stack for your part), he led you out, saying goodbye to Ellen and Jo while you went.

You hesitated when the two of you got to the car. Something wasn’t right with him. And both Jo and Meg’s words still rolled back and forth through your head.

“Dean, are you okay? Who was it on the phone?” you asked.

“I’m fine. It was just my dad, called to have me take a look at his car. We were just arguing about our schedules…I’m sure you can relate,” he replied, trying at a smile.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. Though he was nearly convincing, he was also shifting on his feet, hands in his pockets. His gaze roamed away from yours, above your head and over your shoulder.

“Um, I might’ve had a beer too many,” you said with a half-chuckle. “Could you walk with me for a bit? Just until my head clears enough to drive.”

“I could take you home,” Dean offered.

“And leave my car here?” you asked. In a public parking lot behind a bar?

You shook your head and pointed down the road.

“Just there and back…but if you need to go, I guess I could just sit in my car for a while.”

Dean shook his head with a frown. He couldn’t tell you that a damn serial killer was on the loose.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a relatively safe neighborhood, but not so much at night. Not by yourself.”

He laid a hand on your back to start walking with you, but his hand soon fell back to his side. You glanced at him, but he looked straight ahead, unusually quiet and reserved.

It felt like he was checking out of this night with you. Like he just wanted to usher you into the car and leave. Did he just not want to deal with what Meg said?

Letting out a breath, you tried to see if you could broach the subject.

“It was nice to meet some more of your friends,” you said, and with a nervous laugh, “even if it did get awkward there at the end.”

Dean finally looked over at you.

“We never exactly talked about what each of us was looking for,” you said. “What we were really doing here.”

You stood your ground, but you tried not to look censuring. Just open to whatever he might have to say. Even so, unease churned inside you.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, she wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

You considered that with a nod, biting the inside of your lip.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” you asked. Dean gave a humorless huff of a laugh. This really was the last thing he wanted to get into tonight, but he had a feeling he had no choice.

“A few months ago, for about a minute,” he said. “But uh, before then…never.”

Together, you began to cross the street while the cars on either side waited at the red light. Pedestrians had the right of way for the next 30 seconds. You looked over at him and steeled yourself.

“Dean, is this is something casual for you?”

“Define casual,” he attempted to joke (or to deflect). Though the bravado fell the moment he saw that look on your face: tight and disappointed…and hurt.

He reached for your hand, but you weren’t having it. You slipped away from him and continued walking at a more brusque clip, even in those platform heels.

“Okay, hold on.” He quickly followed after you and tugged you back by the hand. It had you both stopping in the middle of the crosswalk.

Dean squeezed your hand and peered into your eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t close up on me,” he implored. “…Please.”

Despite your better judgment, and your pursed lips, you waited. Something told you this man didn’t often say please.

“The truth is, I’m trying to do something different here with you. I don’t think we would’ve made it to date #4 if we were just casual,” he said. “I’m not playing games either.”

You wanted to trust that he was serious. Once again, your mind and your heart were at odds; the former told you to be wary, while the latter told you to trust the earnestness in his eyes.

Your heart won. “Okay, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, with hopeful brows raised.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

You finally smiled. And you leaned up, resting a hand against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His stubble was coarse, but familiar against your lips.

Dean turned his head and leaned in for a proper kiss. His hands found the curve of your waist and brought you closer against his chest. You both sunk deeper into it, your lips gliding as your head tilted into the kiss…

Until a horn honked loudly, making you both jolt at the sound.

The streetlight was green, and several cars were waiting for you to cross. You snorted in amusement, leading Dean to grin down at you. He tugged you back into step with him across the street.

Again, you hesitated at your car. Dean was more himself as he’d held your hand all the way back.

He now held your car door open while you threw in your purse. But when you turned back to him, you still saw something brooding behind his eyes.

You drew near and grasped the open edges of his shirt. This man wore a lot of plaid when he was out of uniform, always with an undershirt. Tonight it was green plaid on gray, complete with some faded jeans and a pair of boots. This was the only “casual” way in which you wanted Dean.

“Hey,” you started.

“Hmm?” he replied, holding you by your arms.

“I get that we haven’t known each other all that long. So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said. “But did something happen when you stepped out? When you talked to your dad?”

Dean paused. His eyes, a pale green under the streetlamp, flicked to yours.

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” you said. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

After a moment to blink in surprise, your earnestness got to him. His grip moved down your arms, and he took one of your hands. His dad’s warning echoed through his mind.

What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.

Dean knew his dad didn’t make demands without a reason, even if he wasn’t typically so forthcoming with them. But Dean drew enough courage to be as honest as he could be. You deserved that much, after everything you'd put up with tonight.

“My mom died...when I was about four,” he said. “It was a house fire.”

Your eyes widened. All this time, you’d assumed his mother had passed away. You hadn’t expected that, though. You squeezed his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you meant it. Dean just shook his head.

“It was ruled an accident. Really they just didn’t have much evidence either way,” he continued. “But uh, my dad’s been obsessed with the idea that it wasn’t. That someone started the fire on purpose… Well, today, he might’ve found his proof.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could, but in the end, he just couldn’t. His chest was tight. Saying those words out loud made them real, and he wasn’t sure of how to handle it.

“Oh, Dean,” you said, starting and stopping, as you struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t just “I’m sorry,” or “Are you okay?”

He clearly wasn’t. You also didn’t want to give him platitudes like, “That’s crazy,” or the ever-inspired: “Wow.”

Or some other variation of what you’re supposed to say. You wanted to give him something honest. Something real.

So you curled your hands around his arms, earning his gaze.

“You must be reeling right now,” you said. “Do you think he’s onto something this time?”

“I don’t know what to think,” said Dean. “I’ve been pressing him for answers, but…honestly? I wish he hadn’t told me a damn thing.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were surprised that he actually confided in you with this. But the only thing you could think to do was lean up on your toes and slip your arms around his neck. You hugged him, warm and tight.

You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling, but you just wanted him to know that someone was there for him. You were there for him.

Dean eventually hugged you back. He held you, reassuring you as well as himself. He blew out a cathartic breath, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips tugged upwards.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” he said.

A smile spread across your face. Your fingers soothed through his hair gently. You pressed your lips into his neck.

“I aim to please,” you said against his skin.

Dean smiled more fully at that. The new warmth in his chest warred against the roiling in his stomach. Despite his best efforts, his smile faded.

His mom’s killer was still out there.

The thought was haunting his mind, and he knew it probably would for many nights to come.

So for now, he’d just hold you a bit tighter.

AN: 🥲 I honestly didn't mean it to end so angsty, but Dean finally got some much-needed hurt/comfort there! What did you think of how Jo handled her jealous side? And Gordon "shooting his shot" lol.

Coming soon in Part 7, we finally get to a huge milestone between these two lovebirds, with a side helping of baking shenanigans. 😏��️‍🔥

Next Time:

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

Keep Reading: PART 7

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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

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

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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#Just Casual #Smoke Eater #Part 6 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

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youremyheaven · 8 months ago

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Ashlesha & Toxic Relationships

Tw: abuse, incest, rape, death, domestic violence

I feel like Ashlesha's mommy issues have been covered by others before but I really wanted to explore how Ashlesha nakshatra natives often find themselves in toxic relationships, be it in their own homes or in romantic relationships. I think many of the patterns many people repeat in adult relationships has its roots in their childhood relationships with their family and I see this very evident with many Ashlesha natives. They're often abused at home and later suffer abuse at the hands of partners.

Halle Berry Ashlesha Sun

Halle's father was a violent man who abused her mother repeatedly. He abandoned them when she was 4 and she's been estranged from him since.

She moved with her mother and sister to an all-white neighbourhood where she was exposed to racial discrimination while attending school. Halle admits that these struggles motivated her to succeed. Later in the ’90s, when she moved to New York to pursue her acting career, she was forced to stay in a homeless shelter for a while because she couldn’t afford accommodations.

In 2011, Halle said: "It was only when I was in an abusive relationship and blood squirted on the ceiling of my apartment and I lost 80% of my hearing in my ear that I realised, I have to break the cycle."

Halle is divorced from Gabriel Aubry (in photo with her above) who, she accused of being a racist (he used racial slurs towards her and their daughter), refused to acknowledge their daughter as biracial and court documents revealed that Berry accused him of having been in an incestuous relationship with a family member, abusing their daughter and even revealed the couple only had sex three times a year, with Aubry struggling with the effects of his incestuous relationship.

Charlize Theron- Ashlesha Sun, Moon & Mercury

One night, when her verbally abusive alcoholic father came home with his brother after drinking heavily, he threatened her mother with a gun. He began shooting and Theron's mother grabbed her gun and shot back, killing Theron's father and wounding his brother. Police later determined it was self-defence. They later moved to America so Charlize could pursue an acting career.

Lily Collins, Ashlesha Moon

Lily Collins says she was once in a toxic relationship where she faced "verbal and emotional abuse" that made her feel "very small." Looking back, Lily says her then-boyfriend silenced her feelings and even fuelled emotions of "panic" and "anxiety" -- and it's something that still affects her even though she’s now in a healthy relationship.

"He would call me 'Little Lily'…and he'd use awful words about me in terms of what I was wearing and would call me a whore and all these things," she said on the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast. "There were awful words and then there were belittling words. I became quite silent and comfortable in silence and feeling like I had to make myself small to feel super safe."

Tina Turner, Ashlesha Rising

Tina’s violent marriage with Ike Turner is well known, largely thanks to the film based on her life, What’s Love Got To Do With It. In the film the singer suffered severe beatings, was raped and had cigarettes stubbed out on her body. Her husband Ike is portrayed as a violent, controlling sociopath, and when Tina’s autobiography was published Ike actually admitted that the book was largely accurate. The pair were married for 16 years before Tina had the courage to leave. Ike is now dead.

I found something she said in an interview to closely correlate to Ashlesha:

"Part of my spiritual practice is to “change poison into medicine,” to take negative situations or roadblocks and transform or remove them through positivity. The force of my positivity pushed all the discriminatory “isms” standing in my way right out the window."

Whitney Houston- Ashlesha Sun & Venus

Their turbulent relationship is well documented, but even though the rumors were that Bobby used to hit Whitney, she actually claimed it was the other way round. In an interview with the Associated Press over 10 years ago, the singing star said: “Contrary to belief, I do the hitting, he doesn’t. He has never put his hands on me. We are crazy for one another. I mean crazy in love, love, love, love, love. When we’re fighting, it’s like that’s love for us. We’re fighting for our love.” Brown, however, was later arrested in 2003 for misdemeanour battery, several years after Whitney said this. The pair eventually divorced after 15 years of marriage in 2007.

Unfortunately, Whitney passed away in 2012 and I firmly believe Bobby did it. Her daughter, Bobbi Brown also passed away in the exact same way in 2015 and there's just no way those 2 deaths were a coincidence. Anytime I hear news of anybody dying in their bathtub after overdosing on a cocktail of drugs, I just know they were murdered. Its very easy to write off deaths as suicide or to make it look like one. Its all the more convincing if the person has a history of drug abuse.

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising

Sridevi was forced into acting by her mother (who aspired to be an actress and had failed in her pursuit) when she was 2-3yrs old. Sridevi never received formal education and appeared in 200 films by the time she was 25 years old (she did 300 films total). Her mother and stepfather had another daughter whom they favoured. Sridevi was the cash cow of the household. It was once reported that Sridevi would come home from a long day of filming and spend many hours massaging her mother's feet at night instead of sleeping. Her mother once locked up Sridevi in a dark room and starved her as a 5-year-old because she was too scared to do a scene that involved fire. She became a heroine at the age of 11 years and was paired opposite men who had played her grandad onscreen when she was a child star🤮🤮🤮she was sexually assaulted by many of these men as a child and teenager. Sridevi's mother managed all her finances and did not permit her to go out or meet others and she did not even know how to do virtually anything by herself as her mother kept her under lock and key.

Her husband Boney Kapoor is a movie producer who was married to another woman and had 2 kids when he first met Sridevi. He creepily wooed her for 10 years but Sridevi paid him no mind. In 1995, Sridevi's mother passed away and Boney took full advantage of her vulnerability because even though she was 32, she was basically a child due to the way her mother forced her to live. Sridevi had no one to rely on (her stepfather had died many years prior and her sister sued her for properties and since she was so isolated, she had no friends despite being such a huge star) and Boney took her in. She lived with Boney and his wife and kids but before you knew it, Sridevi was impregnated by him and he soon divorced his wife and married her. In 2018, Sridevi was found dead in a bathtub in Dubai under suspicious circumstances. The case was wrapped up pretty quickly and no one really knows what happened. She allegedly "drowned" but like I said, I dont think all these celebs drowning in their bathtubs is a coincidence.

Zsa Zsa Gabor- Ashlesha Moon

She was married 9 times and many of those marriages were hella toxic. She was married to Conrad Hilton (Paris Hilton's great-grandfather)

She said of the marriage:

"Conrad's decision to change my name from Zsa Zsa to Georgia symbolized everything my marriage to him would eventually become. My Hungarian roots were to be ripped out and my background ignored. ... I soon discovered that my marriage to Conrad meant the end of my freedom. My own needs were completely ignored: I belonged to Conrad."

Gabor's only child, daughter Constance Francesca Hilton, was born in 1947. According to Gabor's 1991 autobiography, One Lifetime Is Not Enough, her pregnancy resulted from rape by then-husband Conrad Hilton.

Marilyn Monroe- Ashlesha Rising

Marilyn had a very difficult life. She grew up in foster homes, her mother was schizophrenic and her father was an alcoholic. Her marriages were unhappy and she was treated like shit by the industry. I don't want to elaborate too much because I feel like everyone already knows about her life story but its truly tragic how things were for her :((

Lucille Ball- Ashlesha Sun

She was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz and they had a horrible toxic marriage where he cheated on her repeatedly and emotionally abused her. He was also an alcoholic.

Bella Hadid, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

"I constantly went back to men -- and also, women -- that had abused me, and that's where the people-pleasing came in," Hadid said on the Victoria's Secret podcast, "VS Voices." "I started to not have boundaries, not only sexually, physically, emotionally, but then it went into my workspace….I began to be a people-pleaser with my job and it was everyone else's opinion of me that mattered except for my own, because I essentially was putting my worth into the hands of everyone else and that was the detriment of it."

Everybody already knows that Yolanda is toxic as hell, made Bella get a nose job at 14yrs of age and in Bella's own words she was made to feel like the "uglier sister".

Viola Davis, Ashlesha Sun

She and her sisters were sexually abused by their brother. "Sexual abuse back in the day didn't have a name. The abusers were called 'dirty old men' and the abused were called 'fast' or 'heifers,'" she wrote in her memoir.

Davis wrote about the volatile relationship between her empathetic mother and her violent, alcoholic father. With brutal candidness, she channels the unrelenting terror of living in a household of domestic abuse: “There are not enough pages to mention the fights, the constantly being awakened in the middle of the night or coming home after school to my dad’s rages and praying he wouldn’t lose so much control that he would kill my mom.”

Lil Kim, Ashlesha Moon

When she sat down for a candid interview with Newsweek back in 2000, the rapper revealed that she developed a complex about her appearance thanks to a string of unsavory suitors. "All my life men have told me I wasn't pretty enough — even the men I was dating," she revealed. "I'd be like, 'Well, why are you with me, then? I have low self-esteem and I always have," she admitted. "Guys always cheated on me with women who were European-looking. You know, the long-hair type. Really beautiful women. That left me thinking, 'How can I compete with that?' Being a regular black girl wasn't good enough."

It wasn't just the men she dated in her early days that messed with Lil Kim's head — according to the rapper, her own father added to her issues. Her parents divorced when she was 8 and, despite the fact that she wanted to remain with her mother, her dad won custody. When she spoke to Newsweek ahead of the release of her second studio album, The Notorious K.I.M, she revealed that her father would regularly make her feel as though she wasn't good enough. "It was like I could do nothing right," she recalled. "Everything about me was wrong — my hair, my clothes, just me."

Ella Fitzgerald, Ashlesha Rising

At a young 15 years old, Fitzgerald was left motherless and fatherless. To make matters worse, she began being abused by her stepfather. The beatings were physical, but they scared her emotionally as well. She was a beaten and battered child. Her grades fell to be nearly unrecoverable, and she began skipping school regularly. It was an era of racial segregation and Ella is also believed to have been physically abused by her teachers along with some other black students.

Ella and Marilyn were good friends and are said to have bonded over their similarly traumatic lives.

Katie Holmes, Ashlesha Moon & Rising

She escaped an abusive marriage with the sociopathic Tom Cruise and his cult??? need I say more?? I am so happy she is alive and well and that she has managed to protect her daughter as well. Scientologists are insane people who absolutely destroy the lives of anybody who tries to leave their system so its a miracle that Katie is alive and doing well.

Glenn Close, Ashlesha Rising

I don't know what it is about Ashleshas and being trapped/escaping a cult but I've noticed several Ashlesha natives all have this experience

Oscar-nominated actress Glenn Close, for example, was part of a cult called the Moral Re-Armament, from the young age of 7 all the way up to 22. “If you talk to anybody who was in a group that basically dictates how you’re supposed to live and what you’re supposed to say and how you’re supposed to feel, from the time you’re 7 till the time you’re 22, it has a profound impact on you,” she once told The Hollywood Reporter.

Patricia Arquette- Ashlesha Moon

Oscar winner Patricia Arquette wasn’t just raised in Virginia’s Skymont Subud cult, but her parents were the founders of it. The so-called “spiritual movement” was known for not allowing access to bathrooms, electricity, or running water in the name of “inner guidance.”

While still living with her family, she and her family left the commune to return to a more conventional life. Per ABC, however, the Arquette family wasn’t any better at that time either. “There was a lot of drama in the house,” Arquette said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey. “There were a lot of chairs flying around.”

Brie Larson- Ketu in Ashlesha

Brie starred in two movies, The Glass Castle & The Room that both deal with abusive relationships (she is the one stuck in them)

Our Ketu placement is where we draw our creativity from, so its interesting that Brie has played so many characters who have to deal with toxicity.

According to Hindu mythology, Ashlesha nakshatra is associated with the story of the Naga King Vasuki. It is said that Vasuki and his wife were cursed by a sage to become snakes. In order to lift the curse, they sought the help of Lord Vishnu, who advised them to perform a penance in the ashram of a sage named Jaratkaru. After performing the penance, the sage granted their wish and they were able to regain their human form. Since then, Ashlesha nakshatra has been associated with transformation and the power of penance.

In the list of celebrities I have mentioned, many of them survived their abuse and went on to live good lives but many others met with tragic ends. Being "cursed" is part of Ashlesha's mythology, which is why they receive an unfair share of bad experiences and abuse but to perform penance is very very important and something not many are going to be able to do. When so many terrible things happen to you, you're bound to think "why me? I'm a good person, I don't deserve this" and that's absolutely true, no one deserves abuse but the ones who can outlive these negative circumstances are the ones who can in Tina Turner's words "turn poison into medicine". Penance literally means inflicting punishment upon oneself but what it actually means in this context is to turn all your negative experiences that feel like you're being punished into something you can rise up above against. Poison is also part of Ashlesha's lore and while this does make Ashlesha natives rather malicious and manipulative towards others, they need to be able to use this poison as medicine to heal themselves. Otherwise, they end up succumbing to it.

#astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #nakshatras #astrology #vedic astrology #astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #ashlesha #mercury #jyotish #astro community

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shelbgrey · 1 year ago

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Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons:

Paring: Dean winchester x Singer!Reader

Summary: just some headcanons about Dean dating Bobby Singer's niece. -NSFW content warring.

A/n: the winner of the latest poll, there will be a new one up next week. I was so excited and suprised on how many people did the poll, my first one only had six and the latest one had over 100.

❤️Mood board ❤️MasterList

Being Dean's girlfriend isn't always easy, but you get through it. So let's talk about it.

There was always something between you guys, but with your choice of life there was always something in the way.

You two practically grew up together, with Bobby being your uncle and John being his father you two were always around each other.

I think Dean also had a slight fear of Bobby, you were his niece and your practly his daughter.

Bobby wasn't clueless, he saw the way you two looked at each other. He wanted to kick Dean's teeth out, he's extremely over protective. Bobby also knew if anyone would keep you safe it wold be Dean.

“I know you'll take care of her”

On a side note, Bobby refuse to call you 'idjit'

The last thing he's said before he died was, “take care of my girl.. You idjits”

Anyway, Even if you two kept denying it or if your just clueless, everyone would know.

Other than Sam and Cas, your the only one he 100% trusts you. He'd trusts you with his life and your his partner in crime.

What makes your relationship stronger is that you started off as best friends and allies.

You always thought you were losing him, he would always have one night stands and there was Lisa. Of course they ment nothing to him, he just thought he'd never be good enough for you.

He thought you deserved better. “I'm not what you need...you deserve better”

That was the first time you opened your heart out to him, but he put his walls up. The he pretended like nothing happened... Until you went on one particularly hard hunt.

Everything was happing so fast thst neither one of you remember that night. There was blood everywhere and Dean did everything he could to save you, Castile healed you and Dean confessed something he's been wanting to since he was 18.

“I love you... Please don't leave me, I can't lose you”

Since everything moves fast in your lives you both decided to take things slow. Dispite his rugged appearance he's nothing but a gentleman to you.

He's extremely over protective of you, to the point hunts with him got annoying.

“I'm not some damsley in distress, Dean!”

He knows what a badass you are and he knows you can hold your own, but he can't help but be your shield.

That's really the only times you fight, your both very reckless and laugh in the face of danger. You guys stress each other out on hunts.

But, lets get to the good stuff now.

Your the only other person who can drive the impala, you'd rather just have him driving with you setting with him.

You guys love the same music, so your always singing on the top of your longs to old rock songs. Your guys song is Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band.

You always have to be sleeping next to each other to get a goods night rest, even when you weren't together you two shared a bed in the old motels.

Dean refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.

You bake the best pies in his opinion and Sam loves your homemade salsa.

When you guys moved into the bunker you guys made great use of the kitchen, Sam loves your guys cooking.

Speaking of Sam, he's one of your best friends. Cas is your first, but you and Sam have a long history together. You were even the first one to hear he got accepted into college.

We know Cas is like the Winchesters gardian angel, well Gabriel is yours.

About three years into yours and Dean's relationship you broke up, it was around the time Sam went to hell and you guys just pushed each other away.

Gabe knew you guys loved each other, so he worked really hard to get you back together. He did succeed.

You guys might argue about the little things, but he always know how to make them better.

You guys just like staying in and watching movies or Scooby-Doo. You guys love cuddling up in the Dean cave and just ignore the world for a few hours.

He loves cuddles, if your in bed or on the couch he needs to be holding you. He loves it when he's laying in bed and your lying on top of his chest.

He also loves it when you hold him, maybe after a rough hunt he'll love just rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

You love just being in his arms, there's no feeling better than that. He loves snaking his arms around you and resting his chin on your head because he just really needs to being close to you.

He's really just a big ol' teddy bear.

He's a rough kisser, he's way taller than you so usually he hold your chin between his fingers and lift for head up to kiss you.

There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.

He also loves it when you kiss his forehead. It just a small, loving gesture he absolutely loves.

If your cold you'll steal his flannels or his jackets, he had this black and red flannel that he now only sees if your wearing it.

when ever your busy doing research Dean always deliver a tiny kiss on your forehead. He'd just be walking by and he'll give you a quick kiss just to make you blush.

He's good a making you blush, he thinks it's adorable.

Trust is a big part of your relationship, you both had opened up about the abuse your fathers and dumped on you. That was the reason Bobby took you in, he could bare you being in the type of environment he grew up in.

With that Dean made a promise to never hurt or scare you. He refuses to lay a hurtful hand on you. It'll break his heart if you flinch away from him during an argument.

As much as you love Dean, demon Dean scares the hell out of you. The demon knew this and used it to his advantage. He Dean went back to normal he could barely look into your eyes. He blamed himself for the bruises around your neck the demon caused.

“I promised you I'd never hurt you... I'm so sorry” he said. “it's not your fault”

On a more positive side... You guys have lots of nicknames. You call him Deano or bub and he calls you just about anything but your actual name, Sweetheart is your favorite.

And with FBI names, you take a different approach. While he uses rock aliases you use actor or fictional names.

“agent Sweets, really?” he said playfully. “What? I like the show Bones”

Your like a mother to Claire, she loves you so much and your the only person she trusts other than Jody and the boys.

Speaking of Jody, she took you under her wing immediately. You never had a mother growing up so it was a relief to have her in your life.

You become a mother to Jack too, and your relationship hit a really bumpy road during that time. You hated how Dean treated Jack and it always turned into a fight.

“if you touch him, I swear to God, Dean!”

Den didn't want to be like his father and after awhile Dean's shell broke and he started to grow a soft spot for him, after your lives calmed down you both did end up adopting Jack.

But to legally do that you had to get married. You both wanted to get married so bad, but with your lives you never got the chance.

You weren't gonna get a white wedding, you knew that and Dean thought the Cort house wasn't good enough. So you got married in the church of Elvis in Las Vegas.

NSFW headcanons:

Dean prefers being on top and being the one in control.

He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

Bondeg kink, ropes, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

definitely a fan of overstimulation, he loves the way that your body twitches and you whimper from his touch.

car sex! All the way. loves to take you in the back of the impala, loving the way the windows fog up and the small area gets loud with the noises you make.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He would really get off on marking you up. He didn’t think he would, as it wasn’t something he thought too much about but when he did it there was no turning back.

He definitely has a Praise kink too, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

“you feel so amazing Sweetheart”

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

#Dean winchester #Supernatural #Dean winchester x reader #Dean winchester x Singer!reader #Supernatural headcanons #Dean winchester headcanons #Dean winchester imagines #Jensen Ackles x reader #Bobby Singer x reader #Bobby Singer headcanons #Jensen Ackles

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acewritesfics · 8 months ago

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All a Fantasy | Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Hunter!FemReader

Request: Yes from Wattpad.

Synopsis: Reader is under a Djinn's power. Her fantasy life involves one of her best friends.

Warnings: None really. Mentions of supernatural beings. Maybe one swear word.

Word Count: 2,205

Main Masterlist

Y/N is cooking breakfast when Dean walks into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and coffee having woken him up from his deep slumber. He gives her a sweet kiss good morning before grabbing himself a mug and filling it with coffee.

Today both of them vowed to take the day off from their jobs. Their work schedules have been hectic over the last few weeks that they haven't had a day off together in three weeks. Dean, a mechanic working in his father's understaffed garage is picking up as many hours as he can without overworking himself and Y/N working as a journalist for the local newspaper, preferring writing over being on tv, found herself covering more than just her own column due to a nasty stomach bug going around the office.

"How'd you sleep?" Y/N asks her husband of 6 years. They started dating when she was 19 and he was 23 but they've known each other since she was five when Bobby Singer and his wife adopted her. Bobby is best friends with Dean's father John. Her and Dean's younger brother, Sam became instant best friends being the same age. Growing up she did have a little crush on Dean but it faded over time. It wasn't until he visited her and Sam in university one weekend that things changed for the two childhood friends. Dean didn't see her as the annoying little girl who is best friends with his baby brother. Instead he saw her as a beautiful young woman who knows what she wants and where she wants to be in life. He fell in love with her hard and fast. They got married three years after they started dating.

"So good. That massage worked amazingly. Best I've slept in weeks," he admits, sitting across from her at the kitchen island while she cooks the last few pieces of bacon. The night before she came home to a romantic dinner and a bubble bath. She repaid his romantic gesture with a back massage which led to something a lot more intimate. Dean isn't big on romance but it doesn't mean he doesn't try to make an effort to be romantic. He can be very romantic when he wants to be.

"I'm glad it worked," she smiles placing the last two strips of bacon onto a plate of food and places it in front of him before grabbing her own plate and sitting next to him.

As they eat they talk about what they should do for the day and agree to putting their phones on silent and going for a drive and seeing where the road will take them, making sure to be back in time for dinner with their parents. Tonight they plan to announce that they are expecting their first child. Sam, who was out of town for work, already knows about the pregnancy. Him and Jess, his wife, were there for lunch when Y/N got the call from her doctor confirming the pregnancy.

Once they finished breakfast, Dean cleaned up the dishes while Y/N got ready for their road trip. She was excited and happy to be spending the day with Dean, no interruptions, relaxing as they take a ride in Baby, the beloved Chevy Impala John gifted him when he graduated high school. Many memories have been made in that car with many more to be made.

When they were both ready, they lock up the house and get into the car, starting their drive out of town.

They'd been driving around for an hour when Dean pulls into the car park of what looks like an abandoned play area. The grass is slightly overgrown like if hasn't been mowed in months, maybe even a year or two. There's a slight chill in the air as they get out of the car and move to sit on the hood. Dean notices her shiver a little and wraps an arm around her shoulders, bringing her in closer to him.

It's quiet, far too quiet for her liking. The only sounds they hear is their own breathing. There are no sounds of birds chirping or any other sound you would hear while out in nature. Y/N finds it a little too eerie but feels perfectly safe in her husbands arms as he holds her close.

Until she hears her name whispered quiet enough to only just be able to hear it. She lifts her head to look around as if she is going to find someone else there. But no one is. She shrugs it off thinking she might've been hearing things.

"You wanna know the exact moment I knew I was in love with you?" Dean asks, bringing her attention back to him. She looks at him slightly confused. He has told her many times about that moment. He mentioned it in his wedding speech.

"Have you been lying about it this whole time," she jokes looking up at him.

"No," he smiles down at her and kisses her, sweetly. Both of them feeling like the luckiest people in the world.

The kiss starts to heat up when Y/N abruptly pulls away from him, hearing her name amongst the wind but it's louder this time and sounds like it's coming from behind her. She can feel the confusion and concern in Dean's gaze as she whips around to see where the voice came from.

"What's wrong?" He questions, his voice matching the look in his eyes.

"You didn't hear that?" She asked.

"Hear what?" Dean asks her.

"I swear someone just called my name," she tells him facing him again, but instead of looking at him, she's still looking around the open field looking for the source of her name being called. "You aren't trying to pull some trick on me, right?"

"I didn't hear anything and I swear I'm not pulling any tricks," he places his hands on her shoulders and pulls her closer trying to reassure her. He didn't know what was happening. "Maybe we should get out of here. It is a little creepy."

She nods agreeing with him and moves to get back into the impala when her name is called once again but this time it sounds from right behind her and it sounds a lot like Dean's voice. She quickly turns on her heel again hoping to catch whoever is there.

Shock fills her when she sees Dean but this Dean is different, aside from the different clothes he's wearing. She looks back to her Dean who doesn't seem shocked but angry and then moves her gaze back to the other Dean.

"Y/N, you need to wake up. None of it is real," the new Dean pleads with her, scaring and confusing her even more. Her eyes fill with tears as she feels as though she is going to faint. She feels as if she's delusional.

"No you don't," her husband Dean speaks up, glaring at the other Dean. "You can stay here, we can have our baby and live the life we both wish and dream of. The normal jobs, the kids, no monsters, not so much death and destruction. This is what you want. We can have it all, baby. Everything you wish for."

Her confused and terrified gaze lands on her husband. "What are you talking about?"

"It isn't real, Y/N." New Dean says again.

"But it can be," her Dean smiles, the look in his eyes loving and reassuring.

Something switches inside of her as if she's remembering a lot of forgotten memories. She sees Dean but it's the Dean who's trying to convince her none of this is real. It's them travelling with his father and his brother, hunting down things that are only written in lore books. She sees Bobby teaching her how to shoot a gun, how to draw a devils trap, and to speak Latin.

"What's happening?" She cries out looking between the two Deans.

"You need to wake up," Dean number two tells her. "It's killing you. The longer you stay there the more the Djinn is feeding off you."

"Djinn?" She says her voice barely above a whisper as images flash in her mind of her entering an abandoned building alone and being captured by something.

"You know you want to stay Y/N. This is after all what you dream about. This is what you want, what you crave. This is your happy ever after. Would you really give this up?" Dean number one questions.

"This isn't real," she replies quietly to herself. "This isn't what I want because it's not real. It's not real."

She closes her eyes hearing Dean call her name but she can't tell which one. Only a few seconds go by before her eyes shoot open and she's gasping for air.

"Hey, hey, hey, breathe," Dean's voice sounds from above her. It's then she notices she's in the real Dean's arms, his eyes are flooded with fright, concern and relief.

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, taking comfort in her closest friends arms. "Dean?"

"I'm here, sweetheart," he continues to reassure her.

"It wasn't real, none of it was real," she says through deep breaths, a part of her grieving for the life she could have if things had been different.

"I know," he continues to hold her and kisses the top of her head.

A loud screech came from another room making the both of them jump. Dean let's her go and stands up before helping her to stand. He takes her hand and they leave the room meeting Sam at the doorway, the younger of the brothers worried look turning to one of relief seeing his best friend alive with only a few bumps and bruises.

"Let's get out of here," the younger man says. Dean and Y/N agrees, nodding their heads and follow Sam out of the building and to the impala.

A few hours later, Y/N and the Winchesters are in a new town, hunkering down in a new hotel room. Sam is out getting food for them while Y/N and Dean are in the bathroom. She's sitting on the counter next to the sink, medical supplies and a bottle of Jack Daniels next to her. She winces as Dean presses a cotton ball dipped in alcohol to the small cut an inch or so above her eye, cleaning off the dried blood.

"Sorry," Dean apologises moving the now stained red cotton ball away from her skin to check the cut. He was glad to see it was shallow enough to not need actual stitches. He puts a dressing over it to keep it clean and prevent it from getting infected before moving on to the bruise that was forming on her left cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asks her noticing she's been awfully quiet since they left the warehouse where the Djinn kept its victims captive.

"Yeah," she nods. "Just remind me to never get caught by a Djinn again. Those assholes really know how to fuck with your head."

He nods his head in agreement, remembering his own encounter with a Djinn. "You want to talk about it?"

She takes a deep breath in and out before shaking her head. "I don't think there's anything to talk about. Hunters don't get to have a life with a marriage, kids and an actual home. They don't get to live their lives oblivious to the monsters in the dark. They don't get normal jobs with normal hours and normal wages. So why bother talking about it?"

"Hey," Dean said gently grasping her chin between his fingers making her look at him before wiping away her tears that she didn't realise were there. "If you really want all that, it's not too late to get out of this lifestyle."

"But it is," she disagrees with him. "I was trained in this lifestyle just as much as you were. I don't know anything other than how we live. And even if I could give this up. I know what's out there and I can't just sit by and let good and innocent people get killed by all those monsters we hunt. If saving people from the unknown means I have to give up my fantasy of us getting married, having our own family and a stable home with stable jobs and all that other apple pie life stuff, then I'll give it all up time and time again."

Dean looks at her with wide surprised eyes. "Your fantasy is us, you and I," his finger points at her before he points it at himself, "getting married and having a family?"

Her eyes go equally as wide and surprised as his when she realises what she said. "I didn't mean us. I meant... I-"

Dean's lips crashing to hers cuts off her rambling and any thought she was trying to come up with. It didn't take long for her to kiss back, her brain registering that this is actually happening.

After what feels like minutes but was only seconds, Dean pulls away but keeps his face close to hers, his lips barely brushing her lips.

"That's my fantasy too," he admits before kissing her again.

#Supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader

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yourmomxx · 1 year ago

Text

Family Line

father of mine masterlist

summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,5k

a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!

pt1 pt2 pt3

Sioux Falls 2007

It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.

On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan’s flute.

“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”

Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.

“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.

“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”

“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.

Dean perked up and turned his head.

“Hey, my little love.”

A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.

Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.

Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.

Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.

Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.

Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.

“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.

Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.

Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.

They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.

They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.

Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.

“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.

“I was all alone.”

Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.

“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”

Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Pinky promise?” She asked.

Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.

Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.

Still, he felt like a liar.

“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”

Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.

Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.

A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.

Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.

Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.

Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.

Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.

Sam smiled at them.

Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.

He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Na-na na na. Nana na-a.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”

Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.

“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”

Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.

Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.

A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.

Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.

And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.

After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.

The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.

Sam trailed behind.

They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.

Sam wouldn’t blame him.

You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.

Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.

“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.

Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.

“What happened?”

Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.

“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.

“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”

Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.

Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.

On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.

This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.

And you were next.

“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”

“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.

“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.

“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.

“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”

While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.

“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.

“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.

You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”

“It could be.”

You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”

And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.

But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”

“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.

You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”

Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.

Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”

“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”

You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”

Sam nodded. “Alright then.”

“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”

—

It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.

Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.

You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.

Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.

Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.

Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.

It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.

Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.

Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.

Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.

As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.

Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.

Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-

A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.

“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.

“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.

You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”

Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.

You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.

“That’s not even my point.”

“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”

Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.

“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”

Confused, you tilted your head.

“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.

“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”

“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“

“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek.

“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“

“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“

“It’s a group home.”

“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”

Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.

“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”

And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.

You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

St. George, Louisiana 2012

Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.

Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.

“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”

The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.

She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.

Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”

Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.

“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”

He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.

“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”

Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.

“Look, I know how that sounds.”

“I really hope you do.”

“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”

Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.

Dean looked out the window again.

“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”

He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.

“Well, then.” She sighed.

And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.

—

Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.

Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.

Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.

“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”

Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”

Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.

“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.

“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.

“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”

Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”

I promise that we’ll be fine.

I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.

I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.

Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.

He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.

“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.

“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”

“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”

Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.

“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.

Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”

Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”

Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.

It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.

He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.

Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.

Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.

His feet felt even heavier.

When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.

His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.

Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.

It was an obstacle.

Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.

Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.

Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.

It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.

A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.

Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.

The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.

From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.

“Hey,” you said.

Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.

“Hey,” he said back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.

“Nah.”

“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”

Finn sighed.

There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.

“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”

He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.

“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.

Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.

“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”

Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.

“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.

Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.

For a while, it was quiet again.

“My father is here,” you then blurted out.

Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”

“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”

The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.

“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”

You pursed your lips and nodded.

Finn blinked in disbelief.

“Wow,” He breathed out.

“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”

Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”

You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.

“Idiot.”

Finn grinned. “You love me.”

You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”

A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.

Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.

Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.

“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”

Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”

You swallowed and nodded.

Then you left the room.

Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.

Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-

You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.

But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.

The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.

Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.

Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.

“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”

“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”

You nodded.

You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.

You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.

You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.

—

Like hell it was.

Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.

Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?

The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.

The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.

Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.

“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.

Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.

Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.

“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.

Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.

Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.

“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“

Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.

By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.

“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.

Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.

What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.

Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.

The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.

It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.

In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”

Alright, so no gremlin then.

Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.

Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?

“So how do you kill it?”

Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.

“Wait – vampires bleed?”

Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”

You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”

Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.

Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.

“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”

You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.

The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.

You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.

The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.

The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.

The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.

You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.

Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.

Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.

Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.

“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.

Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.

“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”

You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.

“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”

Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.

And very likely, it was.

-- It was quiet again.

From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.

The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.

At school, at the movies, going out to eat.

You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.

Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.

The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.

“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.

“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.

“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”

You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.

Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.

“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.

“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”

You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.

“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”

“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”

Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.

“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.

“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”

“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.

“Y/N, you don’t get it-“

“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.

“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”

Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.

You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.

“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”

You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.

You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.

“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”

“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”

You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”

Dean sighed and took a step back.

“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”

“I don’t believe in signs.”

“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.

“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.

The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.

You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.

The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.

This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.

Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.

You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?

But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.

They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.

Damn life lessons that are right.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.

You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.

“Hey,” you answered.

“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”

Both of you let out quiet laughs.

“You first,” He said.

You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.

“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”

Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.

“But now they’re here, and I just-“

“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.

At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”

Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.

The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”

“You’re still younger than me.”

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.

Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.

Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.

His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.

He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.

Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.

“You ready?” He asked.

Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.

“Yeah.”

Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.

Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.

The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.

And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.

taglist:

@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts

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were-all-idjits-here · 3 months ago

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Angelus Mortis Masterlist

You've always known you were different. After Bobby rescues you from a witch coven who were misusing your powers - which were strange, even for an average witch - and takes pity on you, you gradually earn his trust by using your magic to save him and his fellow hunters from monsters more than once. He raises you in the hunting life and against their father's wishes, Sam and Dean become close with you as they frequent the Singer household. With your magic being their worst kept secret, you fine tune your hunting skills alongside the Winchesters, coming in and out of their lives as canon events unfold and the world dooms itself over and over again - all while the pieces of your strange powers, parentage, and destiny all fall into place, leaving Team Free Will with the choice to either accept you for who you are or abandon you to the wolves.

A choose your own adventure style fic with various parts for you to choose Sam or Dean as a romantic interest and eventual endgame.

Ch 1 coming soon!

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #angelus mortis #my writing #choose your own adventure

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fanfictionalraven · 8 months ago

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Reno - After

Title: Reno - After

Summary: The events leading up to and following Dean being taken to Hell.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Reader’s Father, John Winchester (mentioned)

Word Count: 3,552

Warnings: Alcoholism, mentions of suicide

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Reno - Before here.

Middle of nowhere, Tennessee. A dark, deserted intersection between some cotton fields. You bury the box you’d brought with you in a shallow hole right in the middle of the crossroads and wait. It doesn’t take long before the wind shifts and you can feel it standing behind you.

“Can I help you, little lady?” A man with a thick Southern drawl asks as you turn to face him. He blinks and his eyes flash red as you swallow thickly.

“I wanna make a deal. Hear you’re the one to talk to,” you say, trying to keep your voice from quivering. Demons weren’t your expertise. He smirks slightly as his eyes run over you.

“I’m sure we can work something out. What’s your little heart’s desire?” He asks. Tears well up in your eyes as you speak.

“Save the man I love,” you tell him simply. The demon lets out a dark chuckle as he starts to walk around you slowly. “I don’t even need ten years. Save him and you can take me right here, right now.”

“How noble. You realize what that means, right? Eternal damnation. Everlasting suffering and torture,” he says, stopping dead in front of you. You have to force yourself not to flinch back from the closeness. “All for some man?”

“He’s not just some man,” you say. Looking you over one more time, he shrugs.

“His name?” He asks. You frown and shake your head.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask. He cocks an eyebrow at you and you curse yourself internally. Now you’d peaked his interest in the worst possible way.

“Name first, Sweetheart,” he says. You set your jaw and cross your arms.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask again. The demon stares at you intently and his eyes flash red once again.

“Winchester,” he says, gauging your reaction. You try to keep your face under control but Dean always said you had a crap poker face. The demon smirks and shakes his head, taking a step back. “Sorry. Can’t undo that one. Everyone downstairs is pretty excited to be getting their hands on his soul.” You pull your gun and the demon laughs, shaking his head. “You know that ain’t gonna work.”

“No. But it can’t feel good,” you tell him before squeezing the trigger. You fire three shots into his chest, forcing him to take a few steps backwards. The demon grunts then starts to laugh. He moves to take a step before he’s stopped by an invisible force.

“What did you do??” He snarls. Smirking, you step closer to him then drag your foot across the dirt in front of him revealing a mat with a devil’s trap painted on it underneath his feet. He lets out an animal growl as you turn and walk towards your car.

One month, Y/N.

Y/N please answer me. He’s got two weeks.

You’re gonna regret it if you don’t see him and you know it. One week. We’ll be at Bobby’s. Please.

Stop ignoring me, Y/N. We’ve got a lead on Lilith and we’re going. I know he wants you there. Tomorrow’s his last day.

You stare at the latest text from Sam. The last few months, you’d spent in denial. It wasn’t really going to happen. Sam and Bobby were going to be sure of that. They were going to find a way to get Dean out of deal even if you couldn’t. But the months passed and based on the ignored texts and missed calls, Dean was really about to be dragged to Hell. They had one last shot but Sam didn’t exactly sound hopeful. You were a day’s drive from Sioux Falls. You couldn’t be sure if you were going to even make it in time but, damn it, you had to try.

You race from your motel room, not even bothering to check out. The drive is long and laborious as you push the old Mustang to its limits. You’re running on pure adrenaline and the thought of seeing Dean again. The engine seems to breathe a sigh of relief when you finally cut it off in Bobby’s driveway. The Impala and Bobby’s truck are both sitting there as well. Maybe you had made it in time.

The distance between Bobby’s front door and your car seems like miles as you run up towards the porch. You don’t even bother to knock, barreling into the house. It’s quiet inside as you round the corner, through the kitchen and into the study. Bobby and Sam look up at you, momentarily startled. You watch as both of their faces fall. They look away, unable to meet your eyes.

You were too late.

************************************************************************

A bender. That’s how you’d spent the last 15 months. Random motel rooms across the country, hitting each bar in town. You’d avoided your dad, Bobby, and Sam, sending an occasional text to your father letting him know you were alive. Not that the three of them hadn’t tried to reach out to you. Numerous missed calls and texts were cluttering up your phone. You couldn’t even remember the last case you’d actually worked.

You had tried after Dean had died. You really did because you knew that was what he would have wanted. He would have wanted you to keep going, fight the good fight, save people, hunt things. And it worked – for a month. That was when the nightmares started. It was always the same. Dean screaming in agony for you as legions of demons tortured him. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, short of breath, and sobbing. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing that helped. So you drank…and drank…and drank. You practically stayed drunk after that.

Over the past 15 months, you’d woken up in a lot of different places. Typically you stayed in your car or some motel room. A few times, you woke up in some strange guy’s apartment or house. Once you were chased from a home by an angry wife whose husband you’d spent the night with. On three different occasions in three different states you woke up in jail. Public intoxication. Assault. Inciting a riot. You’d managed to get out of all the charges somehow. But this – this was a new place.

You blink against the bright lights above you then squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the pulse in your left temple. Something’s beeping. Incessantly. It only takes a moment for you to realize what it is. A heart monitor. You’re in a hospital. You finally manage to open your eyes and assess your situation. Your hands are tied down to the railings and there’s an IV in your right elbow, running up to a machine. The door opens and you look up quickly. Your father is standing there, a coffee cup in his hand.

“Hey! You’re awake,” he says, relief clear in his voice. He rushes to your side and runs a hand over your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groan. He smiles a little sadly then shrugs.

“No truck. Just fell off a bridge,” he tells you. Your eyes widen quickly as you stare at him. He looks down at your hand, placing his own over it. “They thought you jumped at first. But, ugh, when they got you to the hospital and did some blood work, they realized how drunk you were. Figured you’d just stumbled and fell. But they wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be a danger to yourself when you woke up so…” He trails off, squeezing your hand slightly. Your heart aches at the pain on his face. You’d never meant to hurt him like this. He was all you had after all.

“Dad, I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” you say, trying to get him to meet your eyes. When he finally does, you wish he hadn’t. You’d seen that look before. It was the same look he’d had when he had to tell you that your mother was dead.

“Yea you are, Y/N. Just slowly. Do you realize what you’ve already done to your liver? If you keep this up, I’m going to have to bury you. That’s not something a parent should have to do,” he says, trying not to cry. You look away as a tear slides down your cheek. He sighs and wipes it away for you. “I called Bobby and he said that once you’re out he’s got something for you to see.”

“I don’t need another of your interventions, Dad,” you snap. He, Bobby, and Sam had tricked you once about seven months ago with an “emergency”. It turned out to be a setup. Three against one, trying to get you to sober up. You’d left, furious and hurt.

“It’s not an intervention, Y/N. I think he just wants to see you,” he explains. You sigh and relent, agreeing to go. You felt so bad right now your father could probably get you to agree to anything.

They keep you for one more night just for observation. You’d apparently gotten really lucky. The bridge wasn’t too high and the water wasn’t too shallow. You’d only hit your head on a rock before someone dove in and grabbed you. A couple had been out for a romantic walk when they saw you fall over. The man pulled you from the water while his wife called for the ambulance.

As soon as you’re released, your dad gets you in his car and the two of you head for Sioux Falls. It was a few hours drive so you decide to relax, just resting your head against the window. You’re not going to fall asleep. You know what’s waiting for you if you do. You close your eyes but you’re not going to sleep. You’re not…

“Y/N!! Y/N, sweetheart, wake up!!” You hear your father calling to you. You sit up quickly, trying to catch your breath. “You were screaming.”

“Just – just a nightmare,” you tell him, running your hands over your face. He watches you, concerned.

“Okay, well, we’re almost to Bobby’s,” he says, turning onto a road. You nod and sit up, trying to shake the images from the nightmare. It was the same as all the others – Dean in Hell, in pain, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

Your dad pulls into Bobby’s driveway and you frown as he stops behind his truck. That old Impala is sitting just a few feet away. Sam was here too.

“Thought you said this wasn’t another intervention,” you say, looking over at him. He sighs and shrugs.

“Maybe Sam just wants to see you too. We’ve all been pretty worried about you,” he says. The two of you get out and you walk up to the porch together. He opens the door and allows you to step inside first. The house is quiet, just like the last time you’d been there. You walk through the kitchen and into the study where Bobby and Sam are both sitting. Sam rises from his spot on the couch and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You had us scared to death,” he says. You sigh and return the hug. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets you go. Bobby is there as soon as your out of Sam’s arms.

“Don’t you ever do that again. You hear me, Y/N?” He says, grabbing you by the arms. You frown and nod quickly. “Your dad called. Said they thought you’d jumped off a bridge. Do you know what that did to us?”

“I didn’t jump. I swear. There was no intent. I’m not suicidal. Just…a clumsy drunk,” you tell them all. Bobby watches you for a moment then pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You sigh and hug him too, burying your face in his chest. You’d never meant to hurt these three men. You loved each of them dearly. He finally lets you go and you look between them. “So? What did you have to show me?” You ask. They all share a look.

“Y/N, why don’t you sit down,” Sam suggests, motioning to the couch. You frown and cross your arms.

“I do not need another intervention,” you tell them defiantly. Sam shakes his head quickly, going to say something. But the voice you hear next doesn’t come from Sam. It doesn’t come from your father or from Bobby.

“You should sit down, Darlin’,” Dean’s voice says from behind you. Your eyes flutter close and you take a shaky breath.

“Tell me someone else heard that,” you say, your voice quiet. You open your eyes at their silence and find them all three watching you closely. Turning slowly, your Y/E/C eyes meet those green ones. You feel your knees start to go weak. Sam places a hand on your back as Dean steps forward, taking your hands in his. You look down, shocked. You hadn’t expected his hands to be solid – to be real. You expected cold, not warmth. But they felt exactly like you remembered. “Oh my god. I’m dead.” Dean chuckles softly and you look up at him.

“You’re not dead, Sweetheart. I’m back. It’s, ugh, it’s a long story but I’m here. I’m me,” he says. You swallow thickly as the tears spring to your eyes. A shaky hand reaches up and your fingers just graze his cheek. His eyes close and he turns into your hand, pressing his lips against your palm. You choke on a sob before throwing your arms around him. Your body shakes as you cry into his shoulder, his hands gently rubbing your back. He sighs and places a chaste kiss against your temple. You finally manage to pull yourself together enough to look at him again.

“When did you get back?” You ask. His face falls slightly before he answers.

“Bout four months ago,” he tells you. You stare at him. Four months? Did he say four months? You push away from him quickly and he sighs.

“You’ve been back for four months and no one thought I should know?!” You nearly shout, looking at each of them. Sam frowns and shakes his head.

“We tried calling you, Y/N, but you never answered,” he says. Your dad nods, taking a step forward.

“We didn’t even know where you were,” he adds. You frown and look at the ground. They were right, of course. You’d been ignoring them all and running for over a year now. You feel Dean’s hand at the small of your back and you look up at him. Your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes. That same old look. Something.

“Can we have that conversation we shoulda had four years ago?” He asks. You bite your lip and nod slightly. He takes your hand in his then pulls you out the backdoor. He leads you a few yards out into the scrapyard before he stops and turns to face you. “So…”

“So…” You say.

“So…” He repeats, nodding slightly. You both start to laugh and his arms snake around your waist. You rest your hands on his shoulders, noticing for the first time how well the two of you fit – like two puzzle pieces, perfectly snapped together. “So, I probably shouldn’t have jumped straight into the whole marriage thing.”

“Dean,” you say, shaking your head. He reaches up, putting a finger over your lips.

“Let me talk, okay?” He asks. You smile slightly and nod. He drops his hand, the arm returning to your waist. “I shoulda started with dinner. Or just…telling you that I fell in love with you the moment I saw you under the hood of that old mustang right in this very spot.” You look around and smile. This was the spot. The spot you’d first noticed it in his eyes when he looked at you. “But I just wanted you to be mine.”

“I always have been. I was just scared,” you tell him. “The only hunters I ever knew that tried the whole marriage thing were my parents. And Mom died protecting Dad. You’d already been hurt multiple times trying to protect me. And then your dad was telling you the same thing. I panicked and I ran. I’ve been running for four years. I’m so tired of running, Dean.” He smiles softly and reaches up, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Then stop. We don’t have to get married. We don’t have to date or whatever. I just want you right next to me for however long we’ve got left. Because, dammit woman, I love you,” he says. You break into a wide smile before his lips come crashing down against yours. You slide your hands into his hair, parting your lips to him.

For the first time in four years, everything felt right. Dean’s arms around your waist, fisting the shirt at your back. His lips moving hungrily against yours. Your fingers tightening in his hair. He pulls away, breathing heavily. His forehead comes to rest against yours and you sigh.

“I love you too,” you whisper. He smiles then presses his lips to your forehead before you step away from each other. He catches one of your hands, linking your fingers together, as you slowly walk back to the house together.

“Sam’s gonna want to get two rooms now,” he says, You laugh and shake your head. “What? You think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands to myself?” He asks, pulling you closer to his side.

“I think you’ll learn to control yourself, Winchester,” you tell him. He smiles and kisses your temple before pulling the back door open. You pull him back into the house with the rest of your family.

THREE MONTHS LATER

You pull your car into the parking lot of the building and glance over at Dean. He still has his eyes closed but you can see he’s getting impatient. He doesn’t like riding shotgun in someone else’s car, even if that someone else is you. And he definitely doesn’t like not knowing where he’s going. You reach over, putting a calming hand on his arm.

“Alright. You can open your eyes and stop pouting now,” you tell him. If his eyes were open, he’d roll them at you. He turns his head towards you before opening his eyes. You smile at him. “I didn’t bring you out here to stare at me.” He rolls his eyes now and looks out the front windshield. He raises an eyebrow.

“A wedding chapel?” He asks. You bite your lip and nod slightly.

“Not just any wedding chapel,” you tell him. He returns his attention to you now, confused. You turn enough to look behind you. Pointing to the motel across the street, you sigh. “That is where I left you nearly five years ago. And this,” you turn back to the chapel, “is the chapel you wanted to get married in.” You look back at Dean and his face is unreadable. He runs a hand over his jaw slowly.

“Are you proposing to me, Y/N?” He asks, cutting his eyes over at you. “Cause I don’t see a ring.” You bite back a smile and nod.

“Yes, Dean Winchester, I am proposing marriage to you,” you say. He shakes his head slowly.

“No, it’s just not a proposal if there isn’t a ring,” he says, looking out the window. You sigh and roll your eyes.

“Dean,” you start but he turns to face you, holding his hand out. What’s laying in his palm takes your breath away. It’s a simple gold band with a single diamond on it. It isn’t much but it’s more than you needed, more than you expected. Your eyes are brimming with tears when you look back up at him.

“You never let me finish that story, all those years ago. Dad told me you were a distraction. I told him I was going to marry you. He pulled this from his pocket and placed it in my hand. Told me if I was absolutely hellbent on marrying you, to give you this,” he says before looking back down at the ring. “It was Mom’s.”

“Oh, Dean,” you gasp. A stray tear manages to slip away and he reaches up, wiping it away quickly.

“What do you say?” He asks. You nod quickly and he smiles, leaning the rest of the way across the front seat to kiss you. Your hands find his face, holding him to you. When you eventually break away, he slips the ring onto your left hand.

“You realize you have to take my name, right?” You ask him. He looks at you quickly, raising an eyebrow. “I asked first, it’s only fair.”

“Technically, I asked first,” he says. You let out a laugh and nod, looking down at the ring on your finger. “Besides Y/N Winchester has a better ring to it than Dean Y/L/N.” You look up at him and there it is in his eyes. Something. That same something you plan to wake up seeing for the rest of your life. Love.

#fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #supernatural #spn #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #john winchester

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river13245 · 1 year ago

Text

Idjiots (sam x male reader)

Navigation / SPN masterlist

Warnings: Few cuss words? Sam and reader being idjiots, Alcohol.

The store was a busy place, it was full of human people. People who had blood running through their veins without a care in the world. Humans who had a family to get home to take care of. Human, that's all you could smell. It filled rooms wherever you went.

After years or practice you could control yourself in a room full of people. However that doesn't stop the smell from circling you. You had being working on self control for years now. With the help of your father...well with whom you considered your father.

Grabbing some fruits and some more vegetables after getting the basic things someone would get at the store you paid with the money you had brought with you and started heading home.

Once you exited the store the smell of the world was now around you. No longer were the strong temptations around you. Carrying the five bags you had in your arms you passed through people on the sidewalk and crossed the streets.

When you arrived home you hadn't been paying attention to if anyone had been there since its usually just you and your dad. You cant tell just anyone that Bobby Singer is your dad given his history and your own. Opening the door you start talking as you head straight to the kitchen. "so they didn't have everything that you needed on your list but i got other things that should work instead"

The three men who were sitting with Bobby all looked over at you before the oldest spoke up. "who the hell are you?" Turning around as you place down your bags onto the counter you look over at him. "I'm y/n and who the hell are you?"

" Im dean" after hearing his name you were finally able to put a face to the name. Bobby had told you stories about them and how they wouldn't take to kindly to you if they found out your a vampire. So he had said if you ever met them that you would have to get them to like you first before telling them.

Reaching for your items you begin putting them away as you speak. "well I pictured you to be very different. From all the stories I was told" Bobby knew what you were doing. He had told you about how Dean had a big Ego.

"Am i not living up to the idea you had of me?" he asked as you finished putting everything away and walked into the room with them. You looked at him and looked at Sam momentarily "I pictured you more attractive...and taller but I guess I was thinking of the wrong brother"

Sam looked up at you while Dean Smirked a little bit. "Well not all of us can have good taste" Which ended up with dean getting punched in the shoulder by Sam. "what did you say your name was again?"

"His name is y/n and he is my son..i guess you could say" Bobby answered "its a long story" Sam looked at him and shrugged "We've got time"

As you sat down Bobby began to tell them the story of how you two met and everything. Leaving out the part of you being a vampire. He always told you that if you ever wanted someone to know, you should tell them. Not him.

Once the story is finished you all talk for a while about their current hunt and some other things. And before you know it, its late and everyone is getting tired. "you guys can stay a few nights. So you don't have to worry about a hotel or anything while you hunt"

-----

Early in the morning you were sitting at your desk drawing. However the sounds of snoring were filling your ears since you could hear everything with your vampire abilities.

The sun had started to rise which caused you to finally look at the clock seeing its 7:00. You sigh and get up from your seat heading downstairs to see Sam passed out on the couch looking extremely uncomfortable. He got the choice of the couch since Dean and him played rock paper scissors and lost.

Feeling sorry for him you walked over and knelt down beside him and run your hand up and down his arm lightly. "Sam, wake up." Soon enough his eyes open and he looks at you "sorry you just looked very uncomfortable." taking your hand off him you stand up. "I'm going to make breakfast for everyone. Why don't you just go take my room in the meantime"

He slowly wakes up and sits up on the couch running his hand through his hair. "no no I need to get up. I'm usually up by now." Laughing a little as you walk to the kitchen "Must have had a long night then. You and Dean did drink a bit last night"

You were met with silence as you got out some eggs, bread, bacon and potatoes. Thinking that Sam went to your room to lay down you started to play some music, making sure to keep it at a low volume.

When you started to cook you hear footsteps behind you and its Sam beginning to scramble the eggs. He must have felt your eyes on him cause he smiled a little "I wanted to help. You made us dinner last night its the least I can do" You smiled softly as you continued to cook "thank you Sam"

---

As you guys cook you hum along to the music that plays. Sam remains quiet, just listening to the food cook and your humming. However when Paramore comes on you begin go sing a little louder. Still remaining at a quiet tone since everyone is still asleep.

"I should be over all the butterflies, but I'm into you. I'm into you" You sing as you plate food for you and Sam.

"And baby even on our worst nights I'm into you, Let them wonder how we got so far" Sam joins in causing you to look at him and continue.

Let them wonder how we got this far, cause I don't even need to wonder at all" you sing and then you both sing the next line simultaneously. "after all this time I'm still into you"

You both continue to sing as you finish the food. Only stopping when you hear deans voice "okay you two love birds. I smelled food, didnt know a concert was available too" Turning around you see Dean grabbing a plate while your dad looks at you shaking his head chuckling to himself.

-----

The week goes by pretty fast. Too fast for your liking. You and Sam had gotten extremely close over the week along with everyone else. Your dad seemed happier when they were home, it was obvious to you but not to everyone else.

You were always super observant over peoples attitudes and feelings. However what you weren't observant of was Sam's feelings for you.

Since day one you had found Sam attractive, the fact that he was tall also didn't help at all. You and Sam watched movies together in your room at night when everyone was asleep. Made breakfast for everyone since the day you guys got caught singing.

Sam also couldn't help but start to like you too. First impressions are everything to him and you gave him a hell of an impression. When you joked with Dean the first time you guys met. Then how you were so caring towards everyone you cared for and yes that included him and Dean.

You two were oblivious even though you both flirted with each other all the time. However who wasn't oblivious to all of this was Dean and Bobby. They planned on doing something about it because they were tired of seeing the back and forth shit.

----

On the last day they were going to be there it was a sunny day after raining for days. You felt yourself grow sad and slightly moody the longer the day went on. Sam and Dean were out catching the monster/s while you had stayed behind since they didn't need extra help.

Your dad is sitting on the couch drinking a beer when you sigh and grab a water bottle before walking into the living room. Bobby was reading his journal when you grab his beer and replace it with a water. "hey what the hell?" he says as you roll your eyes "Your liver has to be shit by now. With how often you drink."

He sit on the couch looking over at you now glaring at you. "listen just because you are upset over dean and your precious Sam are leaving today doesn't mean you get to take my beer!"

His tone wasn't actually upset he was just trying to get a reaction out of you and you knew that. So now you glare at him "just drink the damn water Bobby. Please" you say and he sighs before taking a drink of his water and continuing his reading.

A few hours go by and you had been keeping yourself busy not wanting to stop moving because you know if you did then you would think about how Sam is going to leave for who knows how long.

You were currently cleaning the kitchen making it spotless when the door opens the guys come back. When they come in they see Bobby drinking water causing dean to speak "I didn't know you knew what water was Bobby"

Bobby looks over and shrugs "y/n over there is in one of his moods. He hasn't stopped moving since you guys left" Dean knew why that was but Sam was to busy walking over to you and grabbed your arms lightly stopping you from cleaning the counters which were already clean "y/n slow down. There is nothing to clean"

Stopping your movements you look over at Sam and place down the rag onto the counter and let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding. "I'm sorry" you say as Sam pulls you close to him and he rests his head on top of yours. "its okay. No one is mad." he pulls away and gives you a small smile before Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder "okay Sammy lets go grab our things and put them in the car"

Sam goes to the extra room and gets everything. While you go to the living room waiting to tell the both of them goodbye. Bobby ends up walking over to you "Tell the guy how you feel son." you shake your head "no there is no point. We never know how long they will be gone for. Or if they will even come back and we both know you wont let me go with them because of my...condition"

Bobby is silent especially when the both of them come down with their bags. He does go help Dean carry the stuff leaving Sam and you by the door.

Looking up at Sam you nod "well looks like its goodbye for now huh?" Sam nods and looks down at you "You know ill be back. Cant stay away from Bobby for long. ya know?" His words cause you to chuckle "oh yes sure. Bobby is always such a joy to be around"

Sam looks around and notices Dean give him a look encouraging him to do something. So he takes places his hand on your shoulder "look I will call you every day. Hell id invite you to come along but Bobby would probably have some words to say about that one. But i dont want to leave till I do something"

"do what" you ask as he brings his hands to the sides of your face pulling you into a kiss. He leans down quiet a bit as you wrap your arms around his waist.

When the both of you pull away you're both smiling like kids at a candy factory. You place your hand on his chest "I might just have to sneak away and come join you guys on your adventure"

Sam laughs and you both look over at Bobby when he whistles for everyone's attention. He holds out a bag and its the same one you had in your room. "well what are you waiting for Idjiots. Better leave before I change my mind"

Sam who was holding onto your hand walks with you to your dad and you hug him. He pats your head "be safe alright."

"yes ill be safe and blah blah blah. As long as you promise me one thing?" he looks at you with a questionable look "alright what do I have to promise to"

"drink more water, try to be a bit more healthy. Trust me i will know if you don't" he rolls his eyes "alright. Now you boys better get going"

The three of you nod and say quick goodbye and you say a quiet "i love you" to your dad before getting into the car in the backseat as the two boys sit in the front and start driving off.

#river13245 #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #bobby singer #sam winchester x male reader #sam winchester x reader #fluff #male reader #platonic #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fanfic #male!reader #y/n #sam winchester one shot

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