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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year ago

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Fight Me, Love Me, Save Me Pt. 3

This will fill the, Isolated/Trapped square on my @jacklesversebingo card. This is my last entry on my bingo card!!! This is the first time, out of NUMEROUS bingos, that I've actually completed my whole card!! 😍😍

Summary: A series in three parts exploring Y/N's and Dean's relationship from bickering children, to love and broken promises, to a plea for salvation.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Mild smut, more, making out, really. Show level violence. Angst. Grief. Sadness. Fluff. The usual from me. 😜

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 7,698 (🫣🫣 I'm so sorry - this last part had a lot of story to tell!)

A/N: So this series will fill the last three squares on my bingo card. The first part covers "It's Mine, and you can't have it." Part two will cover Broken Promises, (Nov 12) and part three will be for the Isolated/Trapped square. (Nov 19 23 - I'm very sorry! But it's here now!)

Series Masterlist

I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please remember to like, reblog and/or comment. Means the world to us writers! ❤️

The dividers included here were created by @talesmaniac89

Dean sat in the empty motel room, grateful to be alone once again. He'd been avoiding their motels as much as possible over the last couple of weeks because he needed that solitude. It was too hard to be in the same room with her; to sit across the table from her and not be able to reach over and take her hand - it was awful.

So, he'd been sleeping in the Impala's back seat a lot lately, making due with the confined space, and trying not to think about the very pleasurable times he'd spent back there with Y/N in his lap.

He was pretty sure those times wouldn't come again. Y/N had made it fairly clear she wasn't interested in moving forward now. She'd barely spoken two words to him in as many weeks. He'd come close to apologizing a few times. But then his anger talked him out of it.

I have nothing to apologize for, he thought angrily.

She was the one who needed to apologize. But his anger at her didn't make it any easier to keep his hands off of her when she was around. It didn't stop his heart from squeezing painfully tight every time he looked at her and remembered how perfect she felt in his arms.

Which was why he stayed away.

But sometimes he couldn't avoid coming back. He was back now because his dad had called him that morning and told him they were trailing a big nest of vamps a few towns over. Seemed to be a nasty group, so they were gonna need all the help they could get in planning how to take them down.

He knew he'd promised their dads that their relationship (or loss of it) wouldn't interfere with the team. So, he came back immediately.

But when he got to the motel they'd been staying in for the last while, it was empty. So, he just sat and waited for them to return.

When the door finally opened he looked up, expecting to see the group of them coming back. But only Y/N slipped through the door, pulling up short when she saw him sitting at the table.

There were a few seconds of frozen staring from both of them before Dean broke eye contact and took his gun out of his inside jacket pocket and started pulling it apart, pretending he was going to clean it, simply to give his hands something to do.

Y/N stepped all the way into the room and closed the door behind her. She took off her jacket and sat on the couch under the window. Dean was hyper aware of her every move; he could smell her perfume and he gritted his teeth against its effect.

He snuck in a glance at her and had to hold in a moan at how fucking gorgeous she looked. She was wearing tight black jeans and a pale pink sweater that fell off her shoulder, revealing a black bra strap. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing her long, extremely kissable neck.

Dean bit his lip and then swept his gaze away quickly when Y/N looked up at him.

Jesus Christ, being here is torture, Dean thought.

After another minute of silence, Y/N gave a huff of annoyance. “This is so stupid.” She said suddenly, the words bursting out of her like an explosion.

Dean looked up from his gun cautiously. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to elaborate. She stood up and walked over to the table, plunking herself down on the chair across from him. He sat back in his chair and tried to pretend he wasn't retreating from her effect on him. Being so close, and yet so far, was extraordinarily painful.

She opened her arms wide, questioning. “This is stupid.” She repeated, “Can't we just move on from this, like we always do?”

He shrugged as though he was indifferent and then looked her in the eye.

“Sure, if I hear an apology in there somewhere, we can definitely leave it behind.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, making the same hurt and anger from their last conversation begin to burn in his heart again.

“Apologize?” She said with disdain. “For what?”

Dean clenched his jaw to keep from screaming at her and trying to force her to see how much her attitude and judgment had hurt him.

Instead, with extreme effort, he kept his voice low and steady. “How about, for breaking your promises?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again. “God, you’re so dramatic!” She said angrily. “I didn't ‘break my promises’.”

“Yeah, you did, actually!” Dean shot back, some of his feelings seeping into his tone despite himself. “You promised you wouldn't get mad. Swore you wouldn't freak out.”

He tapped two fingers against his chest. “I didn't wanna talk about it! I TOLD you I didn't wanna talk about it. But you insisted.” He said, pointing his two fingers at her now. “So I told you the truth - and you nailed me with it.”

He fell silent, and Y/N watched him. Her nostrils were flared and she wore the stubborn, defensive expression that meant she wasn't going to back down.

“Yeah well,” she said, skating her eyes away from his, “it was a LOT of truth.”

“Whatever, the point is,” Dean said coldly, “you promised I could trust you with the truth and then you broke your promise; you immediately got pissed and judgy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes a third time, and it was the last straw for Dean. “Yeah, okay.” He said, quickly reassembling his partially disassembled gun. “Tell my dad I'll be back later.”

He put the gun back in his pocket and stood up. “Clearly you don't give a shit, so whatever - this is done.”

He stomped towards the door.

“Wait!” Y/N said quickly, standing up. But he ignored her and reached the door. “What do you mean, done? You mean…the conversation is done, or…?”

She left the question dangling and Dean turned back to her. He took all of her in - her beauty that clobbered him, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, her expression of anger, fear, and stubbornness - and he shook his head.

“We were stupid to think this was ever gonna work.” He said quietly. He saw her expression crumple for a moment and it was almost his undoing. But then she jutted her chin and her voice was accusing as she shouted at him, her voice full of derision.

“You're telling me I have to apologize, but what about you? Where have you been, Dean? You're hardly ever here. So, who are you…just where have you been staying?”

Her question hit him like a punch. He clenched his teeth, anger simmering with hurt. “Why don't you just ask me what you really wanna ask me, Y/N?”

Y/N's face was dark and stormy and her voice dripped with acid. “Fine.” She enunciated her words exactly. “Who are you sleeping with now?”

Dean didn't let the wound she caused show on his face, instead he let his own arrow fly.

He shrugged carelessly and let ice settle over his expression. “Whoever says yes.”

Despite the direct hit he knew he scored, he took no pleasure in drawing blood and turned away quickly from what he was leaving behind.

***

Three days later

Y/N woke up in the dark, choking on blood. She instinctively turned her head towards the ground, coughing and spitting the coppery taste out of her mouth. She jumped as a voice spoke beside her in the dark.

“Now, now, sweet thing, you just drink up.” As her eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark she could make out the shape of a man standing beside her. He reached out and petted her hair before gripping the back of her head and holding it still as he pushed his wrist against her mouth and she tasted the blood again.

She screamed and tried to get away, but her wrists were bound above her and the sounds of chains rattled as she fought against his hold. Finally he pulled his wrist away from her mouth, but whispered in her ear.

“Sorry to lock you away like this, beautiful, but the others are gonna be jealous and want a piece of you and I want you all to myself.” She felt him lean into her, placing chapped lips against her cheek. “You were just too pretty to eat. I wanna keep ya.”

Y/N was choking and gagging on his blood, and as terrifying truths began to push their way into her mind, tears clogged her throat as well.

The man ran a hand down her cheek and she shuddered. “I know you feel rotten right now, beautiful,” the man whispered again, “but that's just because you haven't eaten.”

He ran his hands up her arms and tightened the rope that bound her wrists. She looked up and saw that the rope was tied into some kind of pulley system that disappeared into the dark above her, those were the chains she’d heard.

“Now, I don’t want my scared little filly to run, so…” He stepped away from her and began tugging on a rope that worked the pulley, raising her a foot off the ground so she dangled there like a fish on a hook. “You just stay put while I fetch you some dinner.”

He came back to stand in front of her and let both his hands trace down over her sides, coming to rest on her hips and squeezing them. “Then after you’ve eaten, and you’re feelin’ better, we can have some real fun.”

Y/N tried to move away from him, but he just slapped her ass and left her swinging there as he walked out. He slid a door open, and as light spilled in from the other side, she realized they were in a barn, and above her was a loft. The pulley system she was attached to was for hauling hay up into the high storage spot.

The man blew her a kiss and closed the door with a thud.

Left there in the dark - trapped, alone, and terrified - Y/N began to panic. She struggled uselessly against the rope that bound her, but she just swung pathetically back and forth. She refused to think about the fact that her eyes had begun to adjust remarkably well to the dark, and her ears were starting to pick up sounds that had been beyond them minutes earlier.

She knew what that man really was, knew that he wasn’t really a man, but she couldn’t focus on what was happening to her or she’d start screaming and never stop.

Into her panic and fear, Dean’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, and she took strength from it, as though he was there with her, egging her on and annoying her into fighting back as he always had. Suddenly she could hear his voice in her head.

Figure out your next move.

She nodded. Yes, she needed to get her bearings and deal with the immediate problem, which was getting away from the slimy monster who had her trapped. She closed her eyes and thought back to her last memories before waking up in the dark.

She’d been hunting, they all had. They had been hunting the nest for a couple of days, and tracked them to a dilapidated old house two miles out of town. She was standing guard at the west entrance while Sam was at the south, both of them watching for stragglers.

It had happened in seconds, the monster grabbing her from behind, sinking its teeth into her flesh and provoking a blood-curdling scream from her throat before the world went dark.

Now she was awake, and she wished she could go back to oblivion. But she couldn’t. So she focused on her surroundings. Loud, off-key music had begun to play from somewhere on the other side of the door. She could hear raucous laughter and loud voices too, as though a party had started.

She heard screams and suddenly the thick, metallic scent of blood hit Y/N’s nose and she panicked again at the way her senses heightened and her body ached with hunger. She was sick with want, with need for the blood she could smell beyond the door. There was no longer any way for her to hide from the truth. The man who held her was no man. He was a vampire, and now she was too.

Suddenly the barn door opened and the vamp came through again, dragging a half conscious woman behind him. The woman roused slightly when she was tossed to the ground, but she seemed incredibly weak, barely able to sit up.

The vamp moved to the pulley and lowered Y/N’s feet back onto the ground. Y/N’s focus sharpened and a plan came to mind. She drew on Dean’s invisible strength and his always impressive calm in the face of stark odds.

The vamp walked up to Y/N and gave her a stern look. “Now, pretty thing, if I take you down, you have to promise to sit nicely and eat your dinner like a good girl.”

Y/N nodded and tried to sound starving, which wasn’t difficult.. “Yes, yes, I promise. Please, I’m just so hungry.”

The vamp chuckled and reached up to pull her down from the hook. “Yeah, I remember those days. I’m gonna make you all better.” He smiled at her and she could smell the blood on his breath.

He sat Y/N on a bale of hay and yanked the woman back up off the ground. He bit into her neck, where the skin was already covered in bite marks, opening her up again so that blood rushed down the front of her filthy blue shirt.

The scent hit Y/N's nostrils again and suddenly she felt fangs descend behind her closed lips. She let out a horrified yelp that almost drowned out the woman's faint cries of distress. She raised a hand to her mouth and cut her finger on one of her own razor sharp teeth as she prodded at it.

The vampire thrust the woman forward and she landed in Y/N's lap. “Eat up, sweetness.” The monster said with another chuckle.

The woman was shaking and weak, her lips blue and nearly lifeless. Y/N felt as though her entire body was cracked and parched like a desert, and the alluring scent of the woman's blood felt like an oasis. But her big brown eyes begged for mercy from Y/N even though her voice had been silenced by weakness, and Y/N pushed her roughly off her lap and jumped to her feet. The vamp seemed startled by the move and his momentary confusion was her only saving grace.

She kicked him as hard as she could in the nuts. His cry of pain was thankfully lost in the pounding music and the screams of the people being feasted on, just on the other side of the wall.

He fell to his knees and she kicked him hard again, in the face, knocking him over to sprawl on the barn floor. With her wrists still tied, she grabbed the long, pointed spade that hung on the wall three feet away, and jammed it into his throat. He gurgled and tried to rip the tool from her hand, but she wrenched it away from him and kicked him half a dozen more times while he writhed and bled on the ground. Finally she got a good angle and stuck him with the spade again, leaving his head hanging on by a few tendons and a bit of muscle tissue.

She smashed the spade into his neck one final time and his head rolled towards her rather pathetically.

She stood staring at it for a few moments, as she panted and her head swam.

Finally she dropped the spade and ran to the woman lying a few feet away. The smell of her blood overwhelmed Y/N again and she immediately jumped back, desperate to control herself.

But the blank, empty look on the woman's face told Y/N she was dead anyway; so she couldn't help or hurt her now. Y/N knew that in her present state there was nothing she could do for the people being killed on the other side of the wall either. So she pulled her wrists free of the rope and ran.

She tore out of the back of the barn, and ran as fast and as far as she could. She had no idea where she could run to, she was simply trying to outrun the monster she was now.

***

Fear sat heavy and thick in Dean's heart as he followed the obvious trail Y/N had left behind her. At least, he thought it was her, it had to be her.

Please, God let it be her, Dean begged.

The world had gone dark ever since he'd heard Y/N's scream of terror and pain outside that rundown shack. He’d run to where she was stationed, but she was already gone. A red pickup truck sped away down the dirt road. But Dean had managed to secure most of the license plate number.

With it, they managed to track the vamps to their new hideout, the barn. This time they took out the whole nest. While the others were questioning the last two vamps about Y/N's whereabouts, Dean had started looking around the space and found the dead woman and the decapitated vamp. The dead monster made hope surge in Dean, and he'd called to the others. They'd split up to search for her and Dean went North simply by instinct at first, because some sixth sense was drawing him in that direction.

But after a couple hundred yards, the trail began to become more obvious. Someone had barrelled through the thick brush surrounding the old barn, and they were no longer attempting to hide their steps.

Almost a mile away from the barn, Dean stopped short. Just ahead of him he could hear what sounded like moans, like someone in pain.

No, not someone, Dean thought, terror licking through him.

Y/N.

He moved forward in a rush and burst through the brush into a small clearing. His heart leapt with joy and relief as he saw Y/N sitting on a turned over log barely twenty-five feet away.

She was alive.

But as he ran towards her she jumped up and tripped over the log as she scrambled away from him.

“Y/N!” Dean called to her, but she screamed back at him.

“No, stay away from me.”

Dean frowned at her but kept walking forward. “Sweetheart, what are y-”

Y/N folded her arms against her middle and groaned again, just as sharp fangs descended. Her beautiful features twisted in a snarl as she stumbled backwards again.

Dean stopped dead, staring, unbelieving, shaking his head in denial. He felt frozen to the ground as he looked at the truth standing right in front of him. He felt his world fall away as he stared at the monster who used to be Y/N - the girl he'd known his whole life, his best friend, his rival, his perfect other half.

And now she was lost to him. A monster.

She fell to her knees and shook her head, holding her hand out towards him, warding him off, warning him to stay back. In the bright light of the full moon and the distant glow of city lights, Dean watched her fangs retreat and tears roll down her cheeks. He approached her cautiously, somehow unable to stay back.

She looked up at him and her beautiful eyes were stained, the whites of them pooled with blood.

“Dean.” she croaked as she continued to shake her head at him. “Please stay away from me.” She begged.

She nodded towards the machete that was strapped to his thigh. “Please? Just end me before I hurt someone.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I don't want to…” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I don't wanna hurt you, or anyone.”

Her face spasmed with pain. “But I can't…I know I can't control this for much longer. Please, help me. I don't want to kill someone.”

Her voice was cracked and broken and suddenly Dean saw that little girl again, the one who begged him not to kill the frog, begged him to help her save it. Because she couldn't stand the thought of hurting something helpless.

That little girl could never be a monster, and he knew she still had to be in there somewhere.

He found himself shaking his head. “No, Y/N, I won’t…” He couldn't even say the words. He cleared his throat “I'm gonna save you.”

Y/N looked at him like he was insane. “Save me? There's no way to save me. There's no fixing this. I'm a monster, Dean! I can feel the bloodlust in my head, it makes everything foggy. I can hear your heart pumping and I want -” She cut herself off and closed her eyes. “Please.” She whispered again, begging him to end her life.

But instead he got down on his knees in front of her and took a deep breath. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared as he drew closer to her.

“You won't hurt me, Y/N.”

“Dean!” Y/N shouted. But he shook his head.

“No, I'm right about this.” He declared, using his old playground trick of challenging her to get a rise out of her and force her into what he wanted. It seemed to work at least a little because some of the despair in her bloodshot eyes turned to annoyance.

He shook his head. “I refuse to believe there isn't a cure out there somewhere, or at least, someway to help you live with it.”

Y/N laughed humorlessly, exasperated. “Like a twelve step program for vampires? ‘God grant me the serenity not to rip open a vein.’?”

Dean grinned at her gallows humor. “Yeah, something like that.”

He looked over his shoulder and when he looked back his face was serious. “But look, I don't know how my Dad, or maybe even your Dad are gonna feel about this idea. I mean, they're so hardcore about hunting, about what’s a monster and what’s human. I don't know if I could convince them what I say is true, that I can save you.”

Y/N frowned at him and fear clouded her expression again. “You absolutely don't know it’s true! You are risking your life every second you're near me.”

Dean raised his hand slowly to her cheek and watched her swallow convulsively. “You're worth the risk, sweetheart.”

Tears filled Y/N's eyes again at the familiar endearment. She brushed away the tears and then took his hand from her cheek and held it.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” She asked, looking up at him with a wavering smile.

Dean grinned at her. “I don't know, does this mean you're apologizing?”

Y/N gave a watery laugh. “Yes.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both struck with just how ridiculous their fight seemed in view of their current situation.

“Well, don’t worry, you're forgiven completely.” Dean promised. “But back to my earlier point. I think we should take off for a while. We can let our dads and Sam know we're okay, but we'll just keep moving till we find an answer.”

Y/N nodded. “But, Dean. I feel so weak already. I don't know how long I'll be able to -”

Dean shook his head. “We'll be fine.” He said, his voice unrelenting.

“Dean -” Y/N tried again, but Dean stood up and pulled her up with him.

“No, Y/N.” He stared into her eyes, his words pushing through the pounding in her skull and the throbbing in her veins for the first time since she'd awoken as a monster.

“I will not walk away from you, I will save you.” His jaw flexed. “Or die trying.”

Y/N felt her heart constrict because she knew him well enough to know he meant every word.

***

Two weeks later

Dean listened to Y/N’s rattling breaths and felt the chasm of darkness grow deeper inside him. She was laying on the floor of the old abandoned house they were squatting in, and her skin was so pallid and pale that she matched the gray dust around her.

She'd been getting weaker and weaker the longer she went without feeding. They’d hoped that animal blood might do the trick. But they'd tried pigeon blood and rat blood - Dean had even found and shot a coyote that had been knocking over trash cans down the road, hoping that bigger game might make a difference - but none of it worked.

Y/N threw the blood up as fast as she choked it down. She cried about the animals that had died. “We're killing them for nothing.” She wheezed. “It's not working.” Her voice was scratchy, as though she hadn't had any liquid for days.

They'd been on their own for nearly two weeks, and every day Y/N faded a little further.

Over the course of the two weeks there had been a few close calls between them, when Y/N's hunger threatened to overtake all her other senses. But Dean had managed to subdue her long enough, until she came back to herself. When her conscience returned, she would always shake with fear at what she'd almost done and beg him to leave her there and run. She said it without hope because she knew he never would.

But now, she was no threat to him at all. Dean looked down at her frail body, cheeks sunken, dark black circles bruising the skin below her eyes, and he knew he was losing her.

He knew what he had to do.

He sat beside her on the floor, his big hand holding her skinny fingers which he squeezed gently.

“Y/N.” He called softly. “Y/N wake up.”

Her eyelids lifted with what looked like a herculean effort. Her eyes were unfocused until Dean moved closer and looked down at her, his face hovering above her. Then she smiled at him as she dragged in more rattling breaths.

She opened her mouth to speak, but only garbled air came out. Dean shook his head and put a finger to her lips. “No, sweetheart, don't talk, just listen.”

He ran a thick finger down the sunken hollow of her cheek. “If you don't feed, you're not gonna make it. Now, when I spoke to Sam last time, he said they had a lead on something that might be something. But that doesn't sound like a lot, and they can help you if you're…”

He shook the word out of his mind. “We just have to keep you well until they figure it out. So…”

He trailed off and then shrugged out of his jacket. He opened the buttons on his flannel, exposing a wide swath of his warm skin.

“So feed.” He told her.

He watched her bloody, cloudy eyes widen and darken. She shook her head feebly, her breathing becoming loud and wheezing as she tried to sit up and back away from him.

But Dean caught hold of her easily and shifted her into his lap. He brushed her limp hair back off her forehead.

“Y/N, please listen to me. We just need something to keep you going. Please.” He said, his voice and expression begging her. “I trust you. Feed.”

He kissed her lips gently, and then leaned over her, kissing her neck and leaving his exposed and vulnerable.

“Dean.” Y/N managed to put some sound into her voice and Dean pulled back to look at her.

She sucked in a long labored breath. “You…promised.” She shook her head again. “Promised to…”

She had to stop talking for a few moments, her eyes falling closed before she tried again.

“Promised to save me.”

Dean's face was desperate. “What do you think I'm doing?”

Y/N's head moved minutely from side to side. “Not.” She croaked. “Saving. Save me from…monster. No monster.”

Dean understood her and he felt tears burn his eyes. She wanted him to save her from becoming a monster. It was true that neither of them knew what would happen if she fed. Would she just get stronger, or would it sever her hold on her humanity?

There was no way of knowing, and she was begging him to save her from the possibility of a bad outcome. Dean wanted to yell at her, scream and fight with her over this as they always did when they disagreed. But he knew she had no fight left.

So he just nodded at her and took solace in the peace that drifted over her exhausted face. He shifted so that she was laying with her head in his lap and traced his finger over the delicate bones in her face and collarbone. He spoke barely above a whisper.

“Okay, sweetheart. Sleep now.”

***

Twenty-two hours later

Dean jumped as someone pounded on the door. It was the most he'd moved in hours. He rose slowly from the ground as the pounding came again accompanied by Sam's voice.

“Dean! Y/N! It's me, open the door!”

Dean reached the door and slid the bolt free, letting Sam through. His little brother rushed past him. “Why haven't you been answering your phone?” Sam asked, and then barreled forward without waiting for an answer.

“We found it, we found a cure. Dad remembered hearing some obscure piece of lore saying you could cure a werewolf with the blood of the wolf that bit them and he figured maybe vamps had something similar. So after you guys took off that night, he went back to the barn and took the fang’s blood just in case. The one Y/N killed - figured it was our best bet.” He clarified.

Sam's excitement was blinding him to Dean's stillness and he rushed on. “So, we went down to New Orleans. You know they had a bit of a vampire problem in the French Quarter about a century ago, so we thought maybe they'd have-”

Suddenly Sam stopped talking, the momentum that brought him there finally deflating under the weight of the darkness in the air.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Dean? Where's Y/N?”

Dean's jaw clenched and he gestured to the other room. “Too late.”

Sam's expression sank, the last bit of his youthful excitement crumbling at the words. He walked in the direction Dean pointed, freezing in the doorway when he saw Y/N's frail body laying on a dusty table.

“Didn't wanna leave her lying on the ground.” Dean said, his voice deep and thick with unshed tears.

Sam wasn't as practiced at hiding his emotions, and tears fell down his cheeks as he watched Y/N's still, lifeless body and thought of the way her father had fallen further and further into a bottle as the days passed, hope slipping further from their grasp.

John had sent Sam on ahead to Dean and Y/N so that he could go back and let Darren know that there was finally hope for his daughter. Now, they were going to have to crush that last spark of hope.

He was exceedingly glad he wouldn't have to be the one to do it.

He reached Y/N and grimaced at the emaciated creature that only vaguely reminded him of the girl who'd been his big sister for all intents and purposes.

When Dean came to stand beside him, Sam shook his head. “How, how did she die?”

Dean looked at him angrily for a moment before he clipped out an answer. “Painfully.”

Silence reigned for a moment until Sam brushed away his tears and tilted his head. “But…” He didn't finish his thought, slightly intimidated by his much bigger brother's anger and frustration with his questions.

But his mind was working and he couldn't stop himself.

“But I mean, that's sort of the thing, isn't it?”

Dean scowled at him and Sam shrugged. “I just…I mean, vampires don't die. They can't.”

“Unless they're starving.” Dean growled out but Sam shook his head.

“No, that's my point. I've done SO much research on vampires over the last couple weeks, and some of it is a bit conflicting, but the one thing that every one of them agreed on was that the ONLY way to kill a vampire for good, for real, was to chop off their head.”

Dean was scowling at him. “What are you saying?” His voice was gruff, but Sam saw a spark of hope in his eye, and he prayed he wasn't giving his brother false hope.

“I'm saying we found a couple hoodoo priestesses that gave up their cure for vampirism. I think we should make it and give it to Y/N.”

Dean's nostrils flared as he fought down his own burgeoning hope. “You really think some hoodoo cure is gonna bring her back from the dead?”

Sam shook his head and took off his backpack. He got down on his haunches and began pulling items out for the spell.

“But she's not dead.” He said adamantly and then amended his words cautiously. “At least. I don't think she is, cause her head is still on her shoulders. So, again, how did she die? Of starvation you said?”

Dean nodded down at Sam. “Yeah, she…she tried to drink animal blood but it wouldn't stay down.”

Sam shot him a worried look. “But she didn't drink any human blood, did she? Like even a drop?”

Dean shook his head. “No, that's why she died. I tried to get her to drink from me, but she wouldn't.”

Sam sighed with relief. “Thank God she's smarter than you are.”

Dean scowled at him, but Sam ignored it. “The spell only works on newbie vamps, and only if they haven't ingested any human blood.”

As he finished up mixing the ingredients for the cure, he explained what he was thinking. “So, if vamps can't die of starvation, then…I think she's desiccated. I read about it in only one account. This one big bad vamp in New Orleans, they couldn't stop him, so they trapped him and when he couldn't get any food, he desiccated and basically fell into a vampire coma.”

He stood up with a jar in his hands that contained a foul smelling liquid. He handed it to Dean and reached into his backpack to pull out a tin that held a syringe full of blood.

He pushed the plunger and emptied it into the drink.

“So I think,” he continued, “that when Y/N couldn't get blood she desiccated. But see if we give her the cure she won't be a vampire anymore. So the lack of human blood in her system shouldn't matter.”

Dean frowned. “But what if, because she wasn't fully a vampire, what if she didn't just wither into a hundred year slumber? What if she really is.. just…”

Sam but his lip. “Well, we won’t know till we try to give her the cure and see.” He said with a shrug in his voice.

Dean nodded and accepted his little brother's reasoning.

He moved towards Y/N and said a prayer to a god he didn't believe in that this would work. He’d been denying the alternative for nearly a day, desperate to believe it wasn’t true. This was their chance to make it not true.

Sam lifted Y/N's shoulders so that she was sitting up, and opened her slack jaw while Dean poured the concoction down her throat. Some of it spilled out, but most of it sank slowly down her esophagus.

When the jar was empty, they laid Y/N down and held their breath.

Dean unclenched his jaw long enough to ask, “Those witches give you any idea how long -”

His words were cut off as Y/N's eyes popped open and she gasped for air like a fish on dry land just before she turned her head and began vomiting black liquid.

Dean felt a horrible mixture of elation and terror as Y/N continued to spew up black bile.

Finally she dry-heaved a few times more and then fell forward. She would have fallen to the ground if not for Dean, who swept her off the table and into his arms.

He held her close, hardly daring to breathe for fear that he'd break the bubble of surrealty that he found himself in. Could this nightmare really be over? Did he have Y/N back in his arms for good.

The pessimist in him was shouting warnings at him not to risk it, but he wasn't listening very well. Hope bubbled up in him as he watched her breathing even out

Finally, her eyes fluttered beneath her closed lids for a moment before they opened slowly.

“Dean?” She asked groggily. “What's…?” Her voice faded as she looked around, clearly confused.

Dean set her back on the table so that he could push the hair back from her face. His voice was hesitant. “Y/N? Are you…okay?”

She turned her head and saw Sam looking at her expectantly as well. Her brow stayed crinkled for a moment more until understanding began to dawn on her face. Tears filled her eyes, and even though they were still slightly bloodshot, Dean could practically see the color returning to her cheeks, her skin losing its thin, papery look.

He began to feel the ache in his chest ease as he tucked Y/N's hair behind her ear. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

Her smile spread across her face and her voice was filled with the same relief and joy Dean could feel seeping through him as she answered.

“I feel like me.”

***

The next few days were a bit rough for Y/N as the cure continued to work through her system, but they were also some of the happiest in her life.

She’d returned to their motel and to her father’s waiting, grateful arms. The group of them celebrated her rescue and return, and the incredible tool they now had to help save vamp victims if they could get to them in time.

For the first day or so, her father didn’t let her go very far out of his sight. But eventually, he eased off, and allowed that she was an adult and had a right to some space and privacy. So finally, four days after waking from her vampiric coma, she and Dean were able to sneak out alone. Their fathers were going to meet with another hunter about a shifter one state over, and Sam was quite glad to get the lovebirds away from him for an evening. Their pining, long looks, and frequent touching was driving him crazy.

Dean and Y/N hopped into the Impala and drove and sang together with the radio for hours. They talked and talked about absolutely nothing important, old favorite movies, and people they used to know from their hundred different hometowns. It was light and easy, and beautiful after weeks of pain, heartache and fear.

Hours later they once again found themselves parked (on the side of an old abandoned back road this time) and cuddled up beside each other in the back seat.

Rain had begun to fall, soft but steady, beating a soothing pattern on the roof. The radio still played low from the front, and Y/N gasped when she realized that Dean had slipped in the mixed tape she’d made for their anniversary more than a month earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“You kept this.” She said, smiling up at him. “I thought you hated these songs.”

Dean shrugged. “I hate them less when I’ve got you tucked up against me like this.”

Y/N reached up to pull his lips down to her. She kissed him softly and then pulled away. She lowered her gaze. “Dean, I really do owe you an apology for how I acted before.”

Dean was shaking his head, but she put a finger to his lips. “Please let me finish.” He fell silent and she continued.

“I get a little crazy when it comes to you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed - I hide it very well.” She said with mock seriousness.

Dean nodded along. “Of course.”

Y/N smiled and looked down at her hands twisted in her lap. “It’s just…all my life it’s been…chaos. Different towns, different schools, different kids, different teachers, different rules, different cliques, different everything. Over and over, nothing but new…new and scary.”

Dean nodded again, knowing it was true.

Y/N smiled sheepishly. “But through all of it, through everything new, everything different, everything scary, there was always you. You, there to piss me off and rile me up, you to challenge and push me, to defend me, to break a nose or take the fall for me. In my whole life the only constant is you. It took me a long time to realize it, but Dean,” she looked deep into his eyes, “you are everything to me.”

Tears filled her eyes. “And the truth is you’ve saved me over and over, my whole life. Yeah okay, I mean now you’ve actually offered up your very life for me, but you’ve been saving me every day, all our lives.”

Dean’s eyes were moist as she continued. “So, the thought of losing you to someone else, of losing all you are to me…” She shook her head. “It’s terrifying.”

Dean grasped her cheeks and turned her face up so he could kiss her, not softly, not gently. His kiss was all consuming, it was hard and possessive. He pulled away from her and she could barely catch her breath.

His voice was raspy as he spoke against her lips. “You’re an idiot.”

She spluttered a bit and scowled at him, but he just smiled.

“Sweetheart, you say it took you a long time to realize all of that? Okay. But I’ve known since first grade. I’ve known since the second our dads met up at that park to talk about a Rugaru and I saw you on the swingset. You were wearing a rainbow t-shirt and purple overalls, and your hair swirled around you while you were swinging. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Y/N laughed happy tears. “You remember what I was wearing?”

Dean brushed them away. “I think of you every time I see a rainbow.”

Y/N could barely believe what she was hearing. Dean shook his head as though it had been so obvious. “Sweetheart, I’ve loved you every day of our lives together. Even when I didn’t like you, I loved you.”

Y/N hiccupped a sob and threw her arms around Dean’s neck. He put his hand on her back and pulled her onto his lap. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and spoke against her skin.

“So as long as you want me here, I’m here. As long as I can be yours, you’ve got me.”

She pulled back from him and sniffled. “So…you were lying then? You weren’t sleeping with a bunch of other girls all the time we were broken up?”

Dean shook his head. “Of course not.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “No one else is you, Y/N.”

She kissed him again, her tears mingling with their panting breath. She straddled his thighs and then lifted her t-shirt up over her head. Dean made a choked sound in the back of his throat. He pressed his hands to her waist and kneaded his fingers into her lower back.

“Y/N,” Dean began but she kissed him again.

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore Dean.” She said as she pulled away. “I know everything I need to know about your past.” She pushed her hands into his hair and tugged his head back slightly so his face was turned up towards her, his mouth open and reaching for her.

She brushed her lips over his. “You’ve loved me your whole life.”

He grunted as he twisted their bodies so that she landed on the seat with a squeak, pinned beneath his weight. “I didn’t say my WHOLE life. There were like six years there where I didn’t even know you existed.”

Y/N giggled. “You mean the six years you were alive before we met?”

Dean grinned. “Exactly. I was free as a bird then.”

He laid his hands against the leather on either side of her shoulders and pushed himself up. One knee was sunk into the seat between her legs and the other rested on the floor as he pulled his shirt up and off.

She reached up and ran her fingers over his smooth, broad chest and down over his stomach. He watched her, a muscle squeezing tight in his jaw, before he took her hands and wrapped them around his neck so he could stretch out above her again.

She looked into his bright green eyes, shining like emeralds and got lost in them. She picked up their conversation as though they’d never stopped talking, but her voice was breathy and heated. “And you’re gonna love me for the rest of your life, right?”

Dean nodded. “Every day.”

“K, good.” She said, her eyes welling up again. “Me too, by the way. I mean, just in case you were wondering - I love you too.”

Dean’s face lit up but he just nodded and shrugged one shoulder. “Of course I know, I’m smart like that.” He kissed her hard and quick. “But let’s not forget who said it first.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl @slamminmine

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut

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rubyvhs · 11 months ago

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stay, sam winchester

demon!reader x sam

summary: 4 x 10, demon!reader can’t have what she wants, not at the expense of sam’s happiness.

warnings; dean hating you, angst angst angst.

"i remember what it feels like, you know." ruby and i are waiting outside the demon proof panic room while the boys figure out a plan. she holds up a book and starts examining it.

"remember what?" i found ruby three months ago, you know, with the hit list from hell and all that, but instead of turning her in, i wanted to help them.

sam wasn't too keen at first, that much was apparent as he tried to exorcise me before i could say hi. he's powerful, it was one hell of a spell and it knocked me out for a few minutes. sam and dean aren't what hell keep whispering they are, they're not otherworldly creatures, they're human. they're the purest parts of humans we demons envy; hope, faith, and a little bit of lust.

dean, although made me his enemy, is nothing but kind and sweet. he thinks of others before himself, and throws his own body into the line of fire before thinking of letting the other get scraped. it's noble, incredibly stupid, but noble nonetheless. that didn't matter when he saw me though, with him fresh out of hell, his presence triggered me and my eyes darkened. it didn't take him all of three seconds to press the demon blade into my throat. the damn winchesters and their 'kill now, ask later' attitude.

i like helping them, it makes me feel like i'm doing something worth it, like they're worth fighting for. they're certainly worth more than lucifer, why would i follow him?

i take a deep breath and let out the words i've been holding inside, maybe this will calm me down, "i remember when i was human." it catches her attention too quickly that she almost strains herself putting down her book to focus with my words.

"you do? what do you remember?" sam told me ruby started helping them from the good of her own heart, remembering right from wrong and that killing innocent people like alastair had taught us, was in fact not right.

i wasn't like that, though. at first i just wanted to know why ruby was doing what she was doing, then it turned into a mind game. i couldn't tell whether what i was doing was right. i am a demon, i am evil and i'm supposed to be this violent creature yet here i am, sitting next to another demon so we could help the biggest known fugitives in hell, the winchesters.

she calls my name softly and i take a breath looking up at her, "what do you remember?"

"i'm not sure. it's just this overwhelming feeling of guilt. i feel like helping the boys has brought out more of my human memories than i thought possible, i remember the ache i felt when i didn't know right from wrong, and when i didn't believe or have faith, and i remember all the confusion and anxiety in my life. it's like my life is playing out in a movie in the back of my head and all i can do is let it while i drink up the negative emotions."

i don't think ruby expected that, because she's sitting there stunned and i think i may have just freaked her out. i'm a demon, i know that, but this whole 'nice' thing is new to me and she's been my only guide along with sam, i don't want to make her hate me.

letting it all out wasn't as gratifying as i thought it would be, i am still the evil i thought i was before, it didn't change anything except that now one other person knows the hell i'm being dragged through, as if i didn't see it enough times.

she mutters my name but we're quickly interrupted by the winchesters and anna's entrance, "i have a plan." when do you not, sam winchester.

"let's hear it!" i say, smiling. he looks at me for a second and smiles back before we both notice his brother, moving towards me. "listen, dean," his glare ever so prominent and his hand on the demon knife in his pocket, "i only let you tackle me the first time because sammy matters to me, i've heard the stories about the great dean winchester, and i gotta say, not impressed."

he raises an eyebrow, quickly looking over at sam, "'sammy' huh?" the younger hunter shrugs. i don't get the big deal, i like the nickname, he doesn't mind being called it.

"i've killed enough demons to know that i can kill you, no problem at all, no matter how much sam likes you." i laugh, takes a step back, two, three and just before i'm about to launch at that smug face of his, sam holds me in place, in the air.

"sam let me go! he literally just said he'd kill me." i struggle for a few seconds before deciding it's futile to get out of his grip without magic so i just lean on him, my head down.

this is so fucking humiliating, i'm a damn demon, i can kill him no problem. "i'm sorry." my eyes roll, my arms are crossed and i am so far from being sorry and he knows it.

"aren't you the ever so obedient bitch." sam's arms are on my shoulders again and he growls a low 'dean'.

one of sam's hands is on my hair, stroking it slowly, the other falling on my shoulder and he's closer than he's ever been. it makes me feel so fucking trusted, unlike what dean just did, that it calms me enough to not give a fuck what he says.

dean falls into the couch next to ruby, a hand on her shoulder he explains the plan. he is so fucking joking. so i'm a bitch but she's the love of his life?

"one of you will summon alastair, get him here. we'll bring the angels and let them fight it out. anna can snatch her grace from uriel while he's occupied. questions? concerns? awesome." i roll my eyes and face sam, slightly disappointed his hands leave my hair and fall back to his side.

"what makes you think they'll let us live after that?"

it seems like they didn't think this part through because all i get is a weak, "they care about dean, they won't kill us."

ruby snorts and voices the words stuck in my throat, "wont kill you."

i half sit on the table and sam takes it as an opportunity to move closer to me, forcing me to part my legs so he's slightly between them and i look up at him, "nothing will happen to you." i can feel dean squirming all the way across the room so, for his sake, i step back and all 6' 4 of sam falters slightly. its almost like he can't control his own movement but it only happens for a moment before he looks over at ruby, "both of you. we'll protect you, like we always have."

i don't mention that just a few seconds ago i was threatened by the very same man's hands i'm supposed to put my life in. ruby shakes her head and leaves, announcing she'll be back at midnight to do her part while glaring at me as if challenging me to fight.

i don't want to. i'm tired of fighting. in her absence, dean's hand in lays on the couch's back and it makes me look at him in a way i never have before. him being so layed out reminds me of everything i did back in hell, the torture. i could find sixty ways to turn his body into a cloth and make it hurt. i could kill him so slowly, but this time without any hope of a deal. i could do so much damage.

"hey!" i finally snap back when sam yells my name and i stumble back. i've never thought like that, not since i started helping them. "hey, why'd your eyes turn? what's wrong?" i shake my head and excuse myself hastily walking out.

it doesn't take a few minutes in my '95 ford before sam runs out calling my name. "get out, now." i sigh and get out of the car, leaning on my side. "what was that? you've never done that before, neither has ruby."

i scoff at the mention of her. she's a great person, don't get me wrong, but she's is definitely not a demon. i ignore him, opting for lighting a cigarette since we'll be here a while. that idea is quickly shut down when he snatches the packet from me and i roll my eyes at his expectant ones.

"what do you want me to say, sam? ruby's not like me, she's been in a human body more than she's been in hell, she hardly qualifies as demon."

"what? and you do?" his desperate words, his blue-green eyes staring at mine, him moving closer to me, it all feels too warm. so so so warm.

"yes, sam."

"no! you're not—"

"i'm not what? a demon? i'm not evil? i'm not here to instil fear and violence into your heart? because i am! you can't keep pretending i'm not, you can't say otherwise." one step closer and i'm pinned against my car, his hands on my waist.

"you're a demon, sure, but you're not evil, sweetheart. unlike every damn demon i've ever met, you're trying." he's right. and wrong. and he's everything else between hot and cold, like my skin is with his bare hands on it since he lifted the hem of my shirt up to place his hands there.

his head dips down ever so slightly but it's enough for me to look down, breaking his gaze and the spell he was under. "damn it," he mutters, head falling onto mine. "why do you do this?"

he moves away, hands still holding me and i shake my head in question, still feeling too warm to talk, "why do you keep pushing me away? i'm not scared or mad at you, what are you so afraid of that we can never have a conversation before you look or walk the other way?"

"it's just..." deans face, every single time i think about kissing sam, about exploring what this is, dean's face makes an appearance in my mind. demon blade to my neck, his disappointed gaze to his brother, the fight he'll pick with sam.

all those things are too fucking scary for me to ever let anything happen. i can't die yet, i want to help them first, i need to feel like i did something or else this was all for nothing.

"what? what is it?"

"sam, it's wrong..." i put my flat palm onto his chest, pushing away slightly so i can make an escape for it. "i won't do something that'll come between you and your brother, or something that'll cost you your fair thinking or," worst of fucking all, "something that you'll regret and chalk up as lust in the end. i can't do that to you."

i don't give him time to respond, though i don't think he would have. i step into my car and drive off. for now, the winchesters don't need me, they have ruby, i'll be there when they need me next.

if i'm not dragged into the pit, i will come back.

#sam winchester x oc #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #laila writes !

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chucksfavouriteprophet · 3 years ago

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The Girl Can Bite Too, You Know - Part 3

Dean Winchester x (Female) Reader

Summary: While trying to keep your business afloat, you get caught in the crossfire of a Winchester hunt and have no choice but to get involved. Some time after your first run-in with the boys, you unexpectedly meet again and they are shocked to see how things have changed.

Warnings: Some slight violence but practically nothing, this is just a little filler before the big stuff gets going.

Word count: 2,609

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

- One Year Later -

The past few weeks had been tedious for Dean, and he was dying to get out of the bunker and find a bar. Problem was, both him and Sam were on the run from the police again, meaning they couldn't exactly show their faces in any old joint.

"C'mon man, one night isn't gonna hurt," Dean begged his brother. "I'm sick of this cheap whisky and no offence, but you're not really the type I would usually choose to chat up."

"Ew Dean, gross," Sam grunted, screwing up his face and shaking his head. "Look, I know you've got itchy feet so I've been doing some digging myself. Garth suggested some roadhouse a few towns over; he's never been but he's heard it's pretty quiet and seems to be a haunt for local hunters. If you're that desperate, why not give that place a try?"

Dean frowned. "Theres a roadhouse a few towns over? You sure, Sammy?" Sam shrugged and held up his hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm only the messenger. You think Garth's having you on?"

It was Dean's turn to shrug now. "No, but I find it hard to imagine there would be a sweet little hunter base just down the road that we haven't discovered yet, don't you?"

Sam turned back to the computer, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know man, like I said, it's meant to be pretty lowkey. Plus, we have kinda been a preoccupied lately so I wouldn't be surprised if slipped past the radar - hey!" He jumped as the laptop lid came slamming down, narrowly missing trapping his fingers.

"Saddle up baby brother, it's time to go get us a proper drink." Dean spun round, flinging his jacket round his shoulders before throwing Sam's in his direction. Sam shook his head with a chuckle. If he was being honest with himself, he too had felt cooped up in the bunker and was interested in getting to know some other local hunters if possible. Moments later, the bunker was plunged into darkness, the only sound being Baby as Dean wheel-spun her out of the garage. Foot on the gas, AC/DC blaring from the radio, the brothers drove with the windows down, enjoying the cool September air. Living in a windowless underground bunker always made them appreciate fresh air when they could get it. Sam related Garth's directions to Dean, and within 20 minutes they were tumbling down an unmade road just out of town.

"Damn, no wonder we never found this place. Someone needs to relay this road." Dean grumbled, taking it slow so not to damage the Impala's suspension. Sam glanced nervously out the window, starting to question if in fact Garth had been having them on. This place was deserted, nothing in sight.

"Dean, look. There." He motioned forward, pointing at an old wooden sign standing at an angle to the side of the road. There was no writing on it, just a symbol - what appeared to be a devils trap in a circle with a diagonal line through it.

"No demons," chuckled Dean. "Very clever signage." He took a sharp right at the sign, tumbling down a windy lane that was hidden from the main road by bushes. It wound round to the left, coming parallel with road they had previously been on, before opening up into a large square area of gravel lit by a low floodlight. The lot was busy with trucks and vans, some of which Sam and Dean recognised as belonging to fellow hunters. They swung in a space towards the back, climbing out and taking in their surroundings.

The parking lot was positioned behind a square wooden building, painted jet black, with heavy blinds across the windows that did well to dim the lights that were on inside. A path ran round to the other side of the building, which showed the reminisce of an old, smaller parking area with access directly off the main road. However, it was clear to see this was no longer used; the potholes were treacherous and branches covered the track to prevent anyone from entering from the original route. Dean paused for a second, glancing up at the front of the dark building.

"Hey, you recognise this place?" He questioned his brother. "I feel like we've been here before."

Sam was focusing intensely on the big oak door positioned in the centre of the building. "I know what you mean." He replied, head tilted slightly. "I know this door from somewhere. But it can't be - that place was way easier to get to, we didn't have to stumble down some civvy-proof track. Plus, the place I'm thinking of wasn't a hunter's bar, it was just an ordinary joint."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it changed. C'mon, lets go see, it's clearly busy." He pushed past his brother, opening the heavy door inwards and stepping into the warm room, aroma filled with burgers and beer.

"Hey, what was that place called again?" Sam questioned behind him. "Someone's bar, wasn't it? A girl's name, Sally's, or Abby's maybe..."

"Y/N's." Dean breathed, frozen to the spot. A space before him at the bar had just cleared, and he saw you immediately. You hadn't changed; still the same confident body language, hair tied back messily, towel thrown across your shoulder, just like you had been the night you'd met.

Sam chucked. "I don't believe it! Y/N, hey!" He made his way straight towards the bar, Dean following him awkwardly a few steps behind.

You paused when you heard the voice, your back to him as you mixed a drink behind the bar. No, it couldn't be. Surely not. After all this time, all this effort...they were back. You gulped, grasping the glass tighter to stop your fingers trembling so visibly as you turned around.

"Well well well, if it isn't Agents Slovak and Kiedis. Hows the latest album coming along, boys?" You grinned, trying not to make your awe show. A year, it had taken them to walk back into your bar. Or rather 12 months, 4 weeks and 3 days, but who was counting? They hadn't changed much; sure, Sam's hair seemed a little longer, but he was still staggeringly tall and gawky. Dean didn't look any different, although his eyes did seem more serious now, and they'd both earned a few more scars since you'd last seen them. You wondered what sort of horrors they'd seen in the past year, and had to shove away the urge to leap over the bar and embrace them tightly.

Dean had shaken himself clean of his shock by now, and pulled up a stool to sit besides his brother. "Wow Y/N, I like what you've done with the place. That new parking lot grew a bit, huh?"

You smiled at him as you fixed them a drink. "Yeah well, you two opened my eyes to a new kinda clientele, so this ones on the house. Since I started catering for hunters businesses really picked up, but I gotta keep this place a little more subtle now, see." The boys thanked you for their drinks as you moved to top up the empties that had been pushed towards you by your other regulars.

"Yeah, well you're doing a great job at that. We can't believe we didn't know about this place until now." Sam laughed and you shrugged, glancing down at your feet. Dammit Y/N, how long had you waited for this day, and now you were acting like a complete fool?

Dean took a glimpse round the joint, trying to remember back to what it was like that day they'd busted those werewolves. The layout was pretty much the same, with a few more tables thrown in the mix, but the lighting was darker and more pictures were up on the walls. By the door there was a wooden board with initials etched all over it carved with a knife.

"You'll have to add yourselves to that," you nodded in the direction he was glancing in. "It's custom. Every new hunter to drink here has to make their mark." Dean gave you a grin before downing the rest of his whisky. "Hey, you still got those friends of yours out back?" He queried. You rolled your eyes as you gave him a refill. "They even got headstones now. Real talking point in the smoking area, I tell you. Old Robbie over there even made me plaque for them at Christmas." The brothers chuckled, struggling to get their heads around how much you'd changed. Sure, they'd been pleasantly surprised at how well you taken to learning about the supernatural, but they never expected you to make a living out of it as well.

It wasn't long before you had to excuse yourself to tend to other customers, refilling drinks and entertaining their classic manspreading banter. Sometimes you wondered if it was worth hiring some more bartenders to help with the load, but every time you decided it wasn't worth it. You'd have to explain what these people did in order for them not to freak out whenever a regular came in busted from a fight, and there was no way you'd try keep it a secret from anyone. Part of the appeal of Y/N's Bar was the fact that no one had to keep their life a secret. Hunters could come for a drink and catch up with each other, sharing their latest hunts and interests without worrying the wrong ears might overhear. Besides, most of these guys were rowdy men who needed to let their hair down. Not many girls would be able to bat off the misogynistic comments and remarks as easily as you could.

Meanwhile, Dean couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was dying to know more - how had you managed to find out so much about the hunting world? Had something else happened after him and Sam had left? If so, why hadn't he heard from you? Sure, they'd only been living in the bunker a few months now, but how come he hadn't realised how close it was to this place? The elder Winchester couldn't stop wondering as he stood alongside his brother making general chit chat to the other hunters, some of whom he'd met before, others who he'd heard about, and some new rookies who were delighted to finally get to meet the famous Winchester brothers.

The conversation was much the same for you. As the bar filled up, everyone wanted to know how you knew Sam and Dean, and couldn't help but share the rumours they'd heard about them. You smiled through gritted teeth, willing them to shut up and just leave. Truthfully, you wanted everyone to leave, except the brothers. I mean, that was the reason why you ran the place like you did, right?

"Pull yourself together, girl," you mumbled to yourself. Glancing up you caught the eye of the huge portrait of your Dad, still hanging in it's central place above the bar. The one man who had been through it all with you, even if only in spirit. "Don't worry Pop, I'm not gonna let myself go all stupid over two stupid boys. I promise." Taking a deep breath, you turned back around just in time to catch Dean gazing over at you. Catching his eye, you blushed, giving him a nod before carrying on with your job. Dammit, why did you have to be so damn awkward all the time?

Weirdly, Dean felt the same way. Usually chatting up girls was a walk in the park for him, but there was something about you that intimidated him. Maybe it was the casual way you'd managed to turn your bar into a hunters haven right under his nose, or maybe it was just the stunningly sexy and confident way you carried yourself. He threw back another glass of liquid sprit before leaving his brother engrossed in conversation with another local hunter and slid round the bar towards you. "Old man still standing strong, I see," he lent on the table behind you, shrinking back slightly as he made you jump.

"Oh yeah, haha," you mumbled clumsily, trying to recompose yourself. "I don't know what he'd think about me opening up his old place to a bunch of supernatural hunters, but I like to imagine he'd think it was entrepreneurial or something." You dodged round Dean with your head down, not trusting yourself not to glance up into those shockingly green eyes you remembered all too well. If you did, you were afraid you'd never look away. You moved back round behind the safety of the bar as Dean moved with you, pivoting to perch in front of you.

"So, you hunt now too?" He questioned, making you snort with laughter.

"God no. I just monetise the alcoholism that comes with the job." You gave him a quick wink, glancing away swiftly. Do not make eye contact Y/N, you repeated to yourself.

"That's a safe bet," Dean replied. He was about to continue when a raucous behind caught his attention, as well as everyone else's at the bar. Across the room, a burley hunter had pushed another back into the table, sending beer glasses shattering on the ground and a chair to topple over dramatically. He grabbed the other man by the shirt collar, pulling him up onto the table and raising a fist. Dean immediately went to lurch towards the fight, but he was beaten to it. Before the chair had even hit the ground you'd made it across the room in two long strides, twisting the arm of the burley man and pinning him against the wall with a knee to the balls. The man cried out in pain, collapsing in on himself.

"That's your final warning, Frank. I want you out of my bar in 30 seconds, and I don't want you back until you've killed at least three rugarus. You need to get that violence out of your system, and I ain't gonna have you do that by messing up your fellow hunters in my joint." You scooped up the empty glass and threw the truck keys from the table over your shoulder to land as his feet. Dean nodded slowly at you with a grin on his face as you walked back round the bar.

"Wow, that was impressive. You practically flew across the room there. Nice moves, too."

You shook your head as you started washing out the glass. "Dude, I'm a lone girl working in bar that attracts predominately anger-fuelled men. I can handle myself pretty neatly. The girl can bite too, you know."

"Damn straight you can," Dean remembered back to that night with the werewolves. Even now he was still impressed with the way you held your own when faced with a gang of greedy pups.

He spent the rest of the night quietly observing you, while you did the same. After last orders, he and Sam hugged you goodbye, passing on their phone numbers in case you ever needed anything. Dean was pretty sure you wouldn't, but it still made him feel better. The drive back to the bunker was peaceful, the trip out having fulfilled its purpose. Sam had enjoyed chatting away with other hunters and was elated to tell Dean about the latest news he'd caught up on. Dean was just happy at the warm feeling spreading through his chest at having seen you again. For different reasons, they were both sure Y'N's Bar was about to become their regular place.

| Part 4 |

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #sam and dean #dean winchester x y/n #spn fic #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader

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chocolateheart · 4 years ago

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

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nalledimessi · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter one: Back Home.

Hello there friends! Sorry for not been here so often now but i have somethings to deal with, but I'm glad to be back and with a serie of my own. I hope you like it, love it, share it and comment. Feedback, reblogs and you keep me going and is love for me!

Before we start I want to leave special regards to my friend @imgoingtofreakoutnow because without her this serie couldn't be possible. Annie, friend, I love you and I'm still can't thank you enough for help me with this. Also thanks to @elijahs-wife hope to see you soon and I hope you're taking care of yourself.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Tag's @valsworldofcreativity @avala-moon

You stop the engine once you are in the driveway of your home, the same house you shared with him not long ago. You hesitate for a few minutes, playing with the keys in your hand. If only he was here, you think for yourself before taking a deep breath and opening the door. The dark surrounds you while you close the door behind you, leaving your keys and purse on the side table to then walk towards the counter leaving the take-out food on it.

“[Y/N]” his voice coming out of the shadows.

It would never stop to amazed you how he pronounces your name, so soft and so intimate. You sigh resting your hands on the counter, closing your eyes trying to stop the tears that want to get out desperately. “What are you doing here, Elijah? You made it clear you wouldn’t return” you question him before turning to see him.

“The truth of the matter is…” he says, taking his hands to his trousers’ pockets and standing straight, “I still have feelings for you and no matter how hard I try,” —he drops his gaze momentarily to then fix it in yours— “a part of me just doesn’t want to let go” he declares. “[Y/N] I give you…”

“Don’t you dare to finish that” you interrupt him with crystal gaze and anger in your voice, “we both know that as soon Klaus needs you, you won’t hesitate to leave everything behind” —you sigh— “including me, to run to him.” You closed your eyes trying to stop the tears at their edges. “I can’t do this anymore, Elijah” you sob, opening them again. “Please leave” you beg him.

He walks towards you and stops a few inches away, enough for you to inhale his scent. He leans over and deposits a kiss on your head. “I will leave for now.” He lingers close to you a few more seconds to then announce you: “I love you [Y/N] and that is why I have to leave” he confesses before walking out of the door and disappearing in the night.

You know you should’ve told him before, but you know him better than himself; if you had mention it, he would have been torn between choosing his brother and his unborn child.

“We’ll be fine” you say, moving your hand to your abdomen. You take your phone out of your pocket and call the only one you could count on now.

“Are you alright? Where are you?” he picks up alarmed.

“I’m fine, New Orleans” you rush to answer his questions. “I need a place to stay for a few months” you continue.

“Say no more, your room is still the same way you left it” he expresses.

“Thank you, Dean” you say relieved.

“That is what family’s for, we will be waiting for you” you hear him say before ending the call and walking upstairs to pack and go back to Lebanon, Kansas.

You rush to pack up the most essential and everything that could be used to track you down.

You look back through the rear mirror, glancing one last time at what you have called your home with Elijah these last months. -It’s better this way- you say, before starting your way back to your brothers, the Winchesters.

You reach Alexandria, wishing you could keep driving and be far away from New Orleans, Elijah and the chaos that came with being a Mikaelson, but you need to think of the safety and wellness of your child. You decide to spend only the night in Alexandria, stopping at the first motel you saw, and to continue driving at the first light of the day, obviously after breakfast.

“A room for the night” you say as soon you get to the manager office, cap over your head and a big hoodie covering you, making sure to avoid the surveillance camera that was pointing to the door.

“Card or cash?” the old man behind the counter asks while removing the room key off the board keychain.

“Cash” you respond. No way to track you that way, for anyone.

“60 dollars and I need an ID, sweetheart” he grins at you. You place your ID and money on the counter “Room 10 for [Y/N] Winchester, 2nd floor to the right”

“Thanks” you utter, taking the keys and ID from him and following his directions to your room.

Once you settle on bed, your phone starts ringing. You look at the name on the screen and pick it up.

“Hey Sammy” you greet him.

“Dean mentioned you’re coming back, is it true or he’s just playing with me?” The hope in his voice makes you smile.

“It’s true Sammy, I’m on my way. I’m spending the night in Alexandria but will hit the road first thing in the morning after breakfast” you assure him.

“It’s everything alright?” he asks concerned. He knows you after all and even if he was the youngest, he had always been the smart one.

“It’s complicated” you confess.

He chuckles. “I’m starting to think that word means Winchester”

You chuckle back. “Yeah, I think you’re right” you mention playing with the sheet of your bed.

“Alright, be safe. See you when you arrive. Love you [Y/N]”

“Love you too Sammy” you add before hanging up and plugging in your phone next to the Colt M1911A1 that Dean gave you before departing.

Standing in front of the house, Elijah notices that your car isn’t in sight and that the curtains you always keep open are closed. He walks to the entry, using his key to access the house. Looking around the first floor everything was as usual but there was no sight of you.

“[Y/N]?” he calls you from the stairs but no respond. He vamp-speeds to your room to find it completely empty; the closet without a single piece of clothing just like your drawers. The only clothes left are his, with the only exception of his dark blue dress shirt, your favorite. He takes a seat on the bed, taking his head in his palms. If only I had fought for you, he thinks for himself.

He raises his gaze at the sound of the entry door and vamp-speeds downstairs, only to appear in front of his sister. “What are you doing here Rebekah?” he questions, confused and disappointed.

“I came to see [Y/N].” She looks around. “Where she is?” she asks, setting once again his sight on her brother.

“She is gone” he announces, sad and avoiding eye contact with her, “and it seems to be my fault” he adds, taking his hand to his trousers’ pocket. “I apologize Rebekah”

“What happened?” she questions him, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you let her go”

He looks at her. “If I admit to you that it’s complicated, would that suffice? Or, are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?”

She shakes her head. “Did you push her away?”

“I came last night to arrange things between us, but she asked me to leave and so I left” he vaguely explains.

“And she was gone when you returned.” He nods.

“We should go,” he told her walking to the entrance. “There’s nothing for us here anymore” he concludes, looking around one last time before leaving the house.

It takes you more than you wanted to arrive to the bunker, but finally you are back.

“I’m home” you shout as soon you are inside, your voice followed by the sound of footsteps.

“[Y/N]! Glad you made it kiddo” you roll your eyes at Dean.

“I’m not a kiddo anymore” you say while walking down the stairs.

“You’ll always be to me.” Taking the suit case from you, he pulls you into a hug “I missed you [Y/N]” he whispers in your ear.

“I missed you too” you whisper back, hugging him.

Sam takes your bag from your shoulder and pulls you apart from Dean to crush you to his side “Glad you’re back.” He releases you a little to look at you. “You’re staying longer this time, right?” he inquires.

“Definitely” you smile, pulling back from him. “Where is Cas?” you ask after looking around the room and not seeing the angel with the trench coat.

“I’m here” he appears in front of you, looking directly at yourself. “There’s something different about you [Y/N]” he notices, squinting his eyes while scanning you.

You smile nervously. “I can assure you Cas, the same old me I was when I left. I did cut my hair though, must be it!” you rush to say.

He shakes his head “Perhaps it is.” He gives you one more look then adds “Welcome home”

“Come on,” Dean says, passing his arm over your shoulders, “unpack and refresh yourself and we will be waiting for you in the kitchen.” Dean walks you till your bedroom door.

“See you in a few” you say, taking your suit case from him and dragging it inside.

Chapter Two: Confrontations >

#waiting for you #nalledimessi #mikaelson x winchester #elijah mikaelson x winchester sister #the originals #supernatural #elijah mikaelson #winchester!sister #winchester sister #pilot #elijah mikaelson series #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fan fictions #dean winchester #sam winchester #rebekah mikaelson #always & forever

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Sam Winchester: Thoughts

*Credit to the gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. x reader

Pov: Sam

Warnings: Fluff, Sam can hear the readers thoughts, Sam falling in love with the reader, Dean is here to help the plot

Summary: Sam gets cursed after the Dean, Y/n, and Sam hunt a witch. The next morning when he wakes up all he can hear is Y/n thoughts, and he’s slowly start to fall in love with her.

A/N: Using @firefly-graphics Sam Winchester divider for this fic. This fic is sorta based on "What women want" with Mel Gibson. A good ol' Romantic Comedy.

Word Count: 2.3k

Main Masterlist Sams Masterlist

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen

A witch hunt couldn't possibly go wrong, right? Especially with the Winchester boys.

"Look lady, sit down before I shoot," Dean shouted, causing Y/n to flinch. Just enough of a flinch that I would be having a conversation with Dean later about no yelling so much.

The witch sat down, but what nobody noticed she was casting a spell under her breath. Dean, Y/n, and I had huddled together trying to figure out what we were going to ask this damn witch.

My back facing the witch. Dean looking over my shoulder looking angrily at the lady. Y/n had her game face on. She sometimes followed us around like lost puppies, but damn was she a fucking awesome hunter.

Sometimes better than Dean and I put together.

When I say that she followed us around like lost puppies I mean she never said what she thought. Dean or I would come up with a plan and she never put input in. Just kinda did what she was told. Reminds me of a younger version of Dean and myself.

Working our asses off for John, all for it to be for nothing. A good little soldier and that was all we were to him.

In the end, Dean just ended up letting the witch go since she hadn't any information. We all pilled back into the impala for the drive back to the bunker.

Y/n fell asleep in the back seat curled into a ball and looking rather peaceful. "Y'know I was thinking lover boy that maybe she could stay permanently with us," Dean said referring to Y/n in the backseat.

I just rolled my eyes before turning to look out the window. The drive was shortened by the fact that at one point my eyes were open and scanning the passing environment.

And the next minute I was dreaming a nice dream. I had a family a beautiful wife standing on our front patio, and watching our daughter and I play with our puppy.

It was nice, it was peaceful. But when I was looking around my dream, I noticed that every face was blank. Well, there goes the normal dream.

The shaking of my body woke me up. "Yo, wake up. Get your shit and go the bed." Dean said, pushing me closer to the passenger side door.

Stumbling out, I walked groggily to the back of the impala and grabbed my bags. Slinging them over my shoulder, I saw Dean try to pull Y/n from the back.

"Sweetheart, we made it home." Dean whispering. His hands falling underneath her knees, carefully picking her up out of the impala. "Open the door would Ya, instead of just standing and staring," Dean said still whispering.

I ran over to the door opening it. "Dude get some sleep, I'll get Y/n settled in, kay," Dean said passing me. Shrugging my shoulders and yawning as I walked to my room.

Stripping down to my boxers I collapsed into bed, loving the coolness of my sheets. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out like a light.

Dreaming wasn't something that always happened for me, not since I first started hunting with Dean. But those weren't dreams those were more like nightmares, of people that I couldn't save.

I fell back into the same dream as before, still no faces. But the woman I assumed was my wife as a familiar voice, our daughter was what seemed like she was tops five or six.

Cute little thing, long brown hair like my own, wearing a cute sundress that was blue with green flowers printed on it. ' Dear, are you guys ready for dinner?' the woman asked me. I tried to not stare at the fact that she had no face, so I just hummed. Picking up our daughter.

'Tank you for playing with me daddy!' my daughter said to me bringing her small hands and arms and hugging me around my neck. Besides having no faces everything else seemed normal, my wife's voice seemed all too familiar and it was honestly getting at me. Before I was able to ask her something I was pulled from my dreams.

Waking up was a bitch. My neck was sore, and so were my shoulders. Deciding that today I wouldn't take that mile run, I opted for staying in bed just a bit longer this morning.

Finally getting up when I smelled coffee being made in the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of sweats that were laying around, I slipped my slippers on and went to go get some coffee.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was Dean dancing along to his horrible 70s and 80s rock. Flipping pancakes and sizzling bacon. 'God, why'd he choose no shirt this morning' "Huh? Did you say something Y/n?" I asked her, looking at her for the first time since last night.

She had her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a flannel of Dean, and a baggy pair of shorts. "No, I didn't say anything, Sam," Y/n said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, continuing reading her book.

Okay Sam you have to admit that was odd and kinda creepy. Not that I mind being complimented, but still weird. "You gonna get your cup of coffee or just stand there looking like an idiot!" I heard Dean crack.

"No," I answered back grabbing a coffee cup that was next to the machine. 'Jeez Dean way to be an asshole towards Sam.' There it was again Y/n voice.

Turning around rather quickly which only hurt my neck even more. "Did you just say that?" I asked panic starting to overtake my body and instincts. y/n looked over at Dean, causing Dean to look over at me.

"Dude what are you going on about?" He asked me... eyes big I just waved his question off, "Never mind I think I must have hit my head last night." I said just wanting my morning coffee more than anything.

The rest of the morning went by fine. No hearing Y/n voice, but then again, she wasn't around for the rest of the morning. "I'm heading out to the shops; I need a new pair of jeans. If either one of you wanna head out with me that's fine too. If not that's okay too guys." Y/n said mostly talking and looking at me.

'Please come out with me Sammy' I heard. Ignore it, rolling my eyes before speaking again. "No, it's okay. Dean?" I spoke. "Nah, I'm fine dear. But thanks." Dean said using his signature wink.

As Y/n walked away I heard her voice again, 'Jesus Dean, stop with the nicknames, and the winking. Obviously, it's not working.' That was the last I heard the sentence.

Dean wants to be with Y/n. I don't, I can't see that going very well, Dean sees Y/n more as a sister than anything else. What does that mean it's not working?

Hours later Y/n came into the bunker carrying a few bags. "I thought you only needed a pair of jeans, Y/n?" Dean snarked. "I did, but you guys were running out of some things, so I grabbed some other shit." Y/n countered.

Well, I can't deny that Dean and Y/n do have a certain chemistry, one that she and I just don't have. "what did you get?" I asked moving the conversation along. "I umm... I got you guys some t-shirts, some more socks, and just something fun for both of you." She said shyly.

"That's great, thank you. Did you have an okay time?" I asked, 'No, Sam I didn't that's why I wanted you to go with me. So many gross old men hit on me.' I heard Y/n's face was only scrunched up for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I had a perfectly fine time. Really did enjoy the alone time." Y/n said winking at us. Dean just rolled his eyes and jumped up to go through the bags, but Y/n swatted his hands away.

Digging into the bag she pulled out pie for Dean and he took off with it like he was a squirrel. Y/n looked back over to me and then started to look through the other bags. "Here Sam. I didn't know if you already had this book, but I thought why not." She said, shrugging her shoulder in a cute sort of way.

"Here for a gift return, a Winchester hug, yeah?" I said laughing a little bit. "I don't see why not, I heard that they're hard to come by," Y/n said back rounding the table in an effort to get on a very one-sided hug.

I hadn't realized until recently how much shorter Y/n was compared to me. I could fully rest my chin on her head. 'God I could use this more often' I squeezed her in my arms. 'God, he smells so great' I heard again, she nuzzled her face into my chest. 'He gives much better hugs than Dean.' I heard.

Y/n was the one to let go of the hug, not me. I was starting to realize that it was in fact Y/n I was hearing just not the words coming out of her mouth, it was her thoughts.

That night I convinced Dean that I could make dinner. For the time I was at college and dating Jessica I had learned some good enough cooking skills. "Fine whatever you do just don't ruin my pans and pots!" Dean screamed from his bedroom as I walked away.

That night I cooked a shrimp alfredo, and chicken alfredo with noodles. Something simple but it was mostly all the food that we had left in the bunker kitchen.

"Dinners ready you two!" I hollered from the library, Dean running from the garage, and on the other side of me was Y/n walking down the hallway. 'Look at him, damn chiefs' apron' I looked down and saw that the apron said "kiss the cook" Damn Dean.

'I'd definitely kiss that cook.' I heard as she walked past me. I just followed her with my gaze, mouth slightly open. Hoping that it wouldn't fall straight to the floor.

"Well dig in. It won't kill you, Dean." Y/n said. Dean just put his hands up in defense it's not like he had said anything but we all know he was thinking it instead.

Dinner went by quickly, few words from any of us, and not many thoughts passing through Y/n's mind. Besides 'Damn, he's got skills, 'So much better than Dean would ever do' I snorted when I heard that thought. Dean looked over at me, "What's so funny Samuel?" He spoke.

I rolled my eyes, "It's Sam, Samuel sounds like an old fashion name" I said. "Nothing is wrong Dean." I finished. 'If nobody thought you guys were brothers, they should spend at least a few hours with you.' I heard.

"Can we not fight at the dinner table, please Dean," I asked. I was trying to lean into what Y/n was saying, or more thinking. By the end of dinner Dean had eaten another serving and was now on his second piece of apple pie and a glass of hard crown apple whiskey the Y/n had bought earlier that day.

"Good night you two love birds. Tweet tweet. I'm heading to bed." Dean said kissing Y/n's temple, and patting my shoulder he walked out of the library.

"I'm sorry about him, Y/n. He doesn't have a sensor." I said apologizing for my older brother. Y/n got up waving him off and grabbed the leftover dishware.

I followed behind her grabbing what she couldn't. "He's fine. He should know better, but he's okay Sammy." Y/n said. Not many people called me Sammy besides Dean and Y/n, but it always seemed sweeter coming out of her mouth.

Y/n started to wash dishes. "Can I ask you a question Y/n?" She hummed, so I continued on. "Why do you never say anything while we are on a hunt. You don't always have to follow out stupid ideas...." I said noticing that Y/n had now turned around and was facing me.

"Look I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I'd like to know what you're thinking for a while. especially when we are on a hunt. Your opinions matter to me. I hope you know that." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

'Shut up would Ya'. You don't know how much that means to me.' "I know that you can hear what I'm thinking." Well, that went south very quickly and my stupid facial expression doesn't help the situation. "How long have you known?" I asked.... We stood in silence beside the water in the sink running. "Since before dinner when I was thinking about kissing the amazing chef that made dinner. Because I would still kiss the chef." Y/n said. setting the plate down on the kitchen island.

'Do you want me to kiss you, Samuel?' She said in her thought. I hummed. Shaking my head, licking my lips in anticipation. 'Words Sammy Dear.' She thought. "Just come over here. If this is what happens when I can hear your thoughts, I may be okay with being cursed by a witch ever so often." I said before our lips crashed together.

Our kiss was short-lived when Y/n left mine. "What are you talking about the witch from last night's hunt?" I shook my head. "We need to go get that witch, kill her, get her to remove the curse. Whatever, because as much as it's cute somethings a girl wants to keep to herself." Y/n said, coming back up to my lips and pecking them.

"You're gonna be the death of me," I said, before following her over to the sink to help wash dishes. I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n. I thought.

"Hey... I heard that." Y/n said. I rolled my eyes, "No you didn't." Confusion replaced Y/ns soft features. "Okay, what did I say then, Y/n?" I asked. "I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n" Y/n answered.

"Damn it. We really gotta find that witch, Samuel." Y/n said.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

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bi-bard · 4 years ago

Text

Cruel Summer - Team Free Will 2.0 Song Preference

Title: Cruel Summer

Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Jack

Song: Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 2,235 words

Warning(s): mentions of violence and death

Author's Note: I wasn't joking about making song preferences. I just find them a lot of fun. Also, Cas and Sam's seem really similar but I like them both.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Sam Winchester (Season 5):

And I scream, "For whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

I walked into Bobby's living room to see Sam going through at least 3 books. I almost sighed.

He had been working relentlessly. He blamed himself for Lucifer being topside. I had tried to convince him otherwise because he had been manipulated for a long time. He didn't believe me.

"Sam," I said. He looked up from the books. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Does it matter," he asked.

"...Yes," I replied. "You're going to end up killing yourself and then you'll definitely be useless in the fight against Lucifer."

"I'm the only reason we're in that fight," Sam argued.

"Oh bullshit," I yelled. "Sam! If it wasn't you, it would be some other poor bastard that Azazel managed to get his hands on. You were lied to and manipulated. You were used, Sam. Emotionally, physically... it's not like you went out looking to release the devil!"

He stayed silent. I sighed.

"Screw this," he muttered. "I need to get back to work."

"Sam-"

"I need to do this!"

"Please, just stop!"

He froze for a moment, "Why?"

"'Why'?"

"Why should I stop doing my work?"

"Because you're going to go insane or hurt yourself for something that is not your fault," I shouted. "God, how can you be so fucking blind!?"

Sam rolled his eyes, covering his face for a moment

"I... do you know how I felt when Lucifer got released," I asked. "I wasn't angry or scared... I was sad."

"Why?"

"Because... I knew you were betrayed and upset," I explained. "I was sad for you. All I wanted to do was help you and I still do. I was honestly madder when I found out about you and Ruby."

"You wanted to help me..."

"...instead of fight Lucifer."

He raised an eyebrow at me, "That's ridiculous."

Sam leaned down and went to grab a book.

"I swear to God, if you start reading one more time-"

"Stop telling me that I shouldn't blame myself! This is my responsibility!"

"No, Sam, it's not," I snapped. "You think it's your fault because you reacted like a human being!"

He leaned down again and started grabbing the books. I stood in silence; disappointed silence. He was about to start walking when I decided to speak.

"Sam," I said softly. "Sam... please just... Sam!"

"What," he asked, clearly tired of talking. I took a deep breath.

"I love you," I blurted. I took a moment to realize what I said. "Shit! I should not have said that. I'm sorry."

Sam put the books down on the couch.

I continued mumbling apologies and explanations as he walked around Bobby's coffee table.

I was only cut off by Sam cupping the sides of my face and pulling me into a kiss. I froze where I was. I felt overwhelmed but I wasn't uncomfortable; I was happy. Sam slowly pulled away, pecking my lips a few more times before pulling away completely.

"One night off," I asked quietly. "I just want you to have one night of possibly, kinda, alright sleep."

"Okay," he nodded.

I stepped away and grabbed Sam's hand, ready to lead him upstairs.

"Wait," Sam didn't move. I looked back at him. "I love you too."

I smiled before turning and starting to pull him along again, "Really? Couldn't tell from the aggressive making out a minute ago."

"It was not aggressive," he replied.

"Keep telling yourself that, Sammy."

Dean Winchester (Season 1 - Season 8 or 9):

Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it

It was silly at first.

Some man comes in and playfully flirts with the bartender that night. Introduces himself as Dean Winchester and his friend as his brother, Sam. Has a few drinks and then heads out.

Nothing new.

Honestly, I kind of liked him. I didn't tend to but when someone looks like Dean; short hair, constant smirk, and eyes that were almost too bright; I don't feel angry about the constant flattery.

Then, he came back the next night and then the night after that. The third night was the scariest. Some monster had come in and tried to attack me. The man came in while the thing had me pinned to the wall, ready to kill me.

I was caught off guard when I was dropped and the man started fighting the thing. I ran over and hid behind the bar.

"(Y/n)," I stood up to see Dean standing on the other side of the bar. The thing was now dead on the floor. "Are you okay?"

"I... I don't know," I mumbled. He walked over, putting his weapon down slowly when he saw me flinch away from him. "What was that?"

That's when I got the speech. Monsters, hunters, death. It was nearly overwhelming but... tempting. It was like something was pushing me to it. Toward the life that I knew would be more deadly than normal.

"Well, thank you," I said, walking closer to him. I slowly smirked as I relaxed more and more. "How could I repay you?"

"Well," Dean acted like he was thinking. "I am not sure..."

"Lucky for you, I have an idea."

I leaned forward and kissed him softly. Dean pulled me closer to him. I only pulled away when I needed air.

"I'll clean this up," Dean promised.

"Good because I wasn't going to."

--Time Skip--

Many years later, I found myself right by Dean on a vamp case.

We weren't the same as we had been. He was no longer the same stereotypical "bad boy" and I was no longer a simple bartender. But through each change, we seemed to get closer.

Dean pulled me into a hug once the killing had stopped. I sighed happily. I was at home. It was perfect.

I pulled back from our hug and looked at the mess.

"You're cleaning this up," I pointed to it.

"Yeah, I know," he nodded.

Castiel (Season 12-ish, not sure):

I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

I think Castiel believed that I blamed him for my part in the hunting life. If only he knew it was the opposite. He had saved my life. I didn't blame him for not being able to save everyone. Because I couldn't save them either.

We were staying in the bunker. Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt and Cas was staying to keep me company. I had taken a few too many hits to the head on the last hunt and the brothers insisted on me staying home.

It was then that I noticed Castiel's guilt.

"Cas," I asked. He looked up at me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shook his head.

"Cas," I sighed. "I can tell when you're upset."

Cas sighed, looking back at whatever he had been reading.

"Cas-"

"I dragged you into this," he said. I furrowed my eyebrows. "This life. Seeing you get hurt has just reminded me of how much pain I've caused."

"You didn't... Cas, you didn't cause me any pain," I shook my head. "You didn't drag me into anything. I chose this life. How long have you blamed yourself?"

"Ever since you moved into the bunker."

"Cas," I sighed. I stood up and leaned on the table next to where he was sitting. "I am not angry with you. I never was. I don't blame you for all that has happened to me. I chose this life. You didn't cause that. No one hurt me because of you."

He stood up, going to walk away from me.

"For what it's worth," I called, "I'd do it all again... for you."

Cas stopped and turned around to look at me.

"For me," he asked. I nodded. He seemed angry as he walked back over. I stood up straight. "Why would you ever think about that? All of this death and danger and sadness... on a daily basis and you say that you would do it all for me."

"Yes!"

"Why?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I... I would go through every moment of pain and fear for you because I don't want to know a world where you're not a part of my life," I said. "You are the best person I've ever known, Cas."

I reached forward and grabbed his hand.

He was staring at me when I looked back toward his face, "I... I love you, Castiel... whether you want to believe you're worth it or not. I know you are."

He still just watched me.

I leaned over and kissed him softly. Just long enough for him to kiss back before I leaned away. He didn't speak but slowly grinned at me.

"So... umm... dinner," I asked, awkwardly. Cas nodded at me. I smiled wider. "Good, good."

He leaned over and kissed me again.

"Dean's gonna kill you," I mumbled into the kiss.

"It's a good way to die," he replied after pulling away a little bit. I chuckled and kissed him again.

Jack Kline (Season 14):

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

Jack didn't understand my push for us to keep our relationship quiet. They did respect it and decided to follow my lead.

I didn't really think that they had a problem with it.

And then there was a knock on my door. I opened it to see Mary standing with a slightly guilty smile.

"Hi," I said with an awkward smile.

"How long," she asked, following me inside and closing the door behind her. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. "You and Jack?"

"Shit," I mumbled.

"Yeah," she nodded. "So... how long?"

"About a month and a half," I replied. I couldn't help but question why Jack had told Mary.

"Jack seemed upset so I was asking what was going on and they kind of stumbled into telling me," she explained. It was like she had read my mind. "Why are you two hiding?"

"Because Dean would probably kill them," I replied. "I thought hiding was the best way for us to be safe. I didn't think it upset them that much because every time I ask, they just smile and say that everything is fine. I feel like an idiot now."

I sat on the edge of my bed and put my head in my hands. Mary sat next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"You're not an idiot," she mumbled. "You're scared. It happens. I've seen you face almost every evil on the globe. I knew something had to scare you."

"Thanks, that's comforting," I said sarcastically, picking my head up. "I can sass the devil but I can't tell Sam and Dean that I went on a date."

"Go talk to Jack," she encouraged before squeezing my shoulders. "You two deserve each other. They love you. I can see that you love them too. It's going to be okay."

"Okay," I nodded. I turned so I could give Mary a real hug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she patted my back before shoving me back. "Now go!"

I walked out of my room and started down the hallway. I found myself shaking. I shook my head, wringing my hands out as I got to Jack's door. I knocked lightly.

"Hi," Jack said as they opened the door. I smiled, walking in. They closed the door behind me. They seemed to instantly know that something was wrong. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I just had a very interesting conversation with Mary."

"Oh?"

"She asked about us," I explained. Jack looked down for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy about us hiding?"

"I just...," they trailed off.

"Jack, it's okay-"

"Are you ashamed of me," they asked.

I stepped forward, cupping the sides of their face so they would look at me, "No, absolutely not."

They closed their eyes. I leaned up and kissed them gently.

"I'm not ashamed of you," I promised, barely pulling away before kissing them again. I rested my head on their forehead. "I'm so sorry, Jack."

"I don't wanna hide anymore," they said quietly. I looked at them in silence for a moment.

"Then we won't," I replied. Jack smiled at me. I smiled back before stepping toward the door. "Come on."

Jack grabbed my hand and let me lead them to the library and then the map. Sam and Dean were sitting at the map room table, looking at something for research. There were two chairs free on one side of the table. We sat next to each other and I pulled their chair closer so we could keep our hands interlocked.

"Umm," Sam said softly. "Hey, guys."

"Hey," I smiled at him. "What are we looking into?"

"Currently... this," Dean pointed between the two of us.

"Aww," we all looked at Mary as she walked in from the library. "I'm proud of you two."

"You knew," Dean asked.

"You didn't," Mary replied in the same tone. "Doesn't matter anyway. They're happy."

I looked at Jack. They smiled back at me. No more hiding, no more secrets.

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

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babyangellee · 4 years ago

Text

Done (D.W)

So a few things before you read!

First of all, I know Dean would NEVER! Also I know it's short, I'm sorry! The ending is up for interpretation so take that as you will. Okay now you can read!

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1.3k

You had just gotten back from your solo hunt and you were beyond exhausted, all you wanted to do was sit down and relax. But more than that you wanted to see your boyfriend. You made your way inside the bunker and noticed that no one was home so you called Sam.

"Hey I just got back and I wanted to surprise Dean, where are you guys?" You asked running a comb through your hair for the first time in three days in an attempt to look presentable. You could hear the sigh that Sam let out as soon as you mentioned Dean.

"We should talk, I'm about five minutes from the bunker." He said sounding reluctant. His tone of voice made you worry. In the many years of knowing the Winchesters, you have only ever heard Sam use this tone of voice once when Dean was nearly killed by a demon.

Time seemed to stop as every single possible scenario went through your head. You heard the sound of the engine rumble in, the sound of the metal door creaking open, the sound of Sam's boots coming down the stairs but didn't dare move a muscle. Suddenly you felt large arms wrap around your small frame and you felt even more confused.

"What happened? Where is Dean?" The panic in your voice rising as you pictured him dead in a ditch somewhere.

"He's fine but you might not be after I tell you this." You gave Sam a look of confusion and he continued. "Dean got a little too drunk and kept going on about things he didn't like in your relationship. He wasn't slowing down on the drinks, I went to the bathroom and when I came out I saw him leaving the bar with another woman." Sam was hesitant to say the last couple of words, watching your reaction carefully.

It felt like your whole world had collapsed. Six years of your life, just thrown out of the window. You didn't say anything, just stared straight ahead. After a few seconds you turned to walk to your room, you immediately grabbed your duffel and started packing your stuff.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sam asked following you into the room. You just nodded as you continued to throw clothes into your bag. He just sighed and walked away. After about an hour everything you owned was in bags in the back seat of your car. You sat on your bed fiddling your keys in your hand as you waited. You were waiting for him to get home.

He came in around 3 am with a look of slight regret on his face. "Hey, baby, your home? What are you still doing up?" He asked as he took off his shoes. You just gave him a look. "What's wrong? Did something happen on your hunt?"

"Was she any good?" He looked surprised as if wondering how you knew. "What?" He asked trying to play stupid.

"Did you at least think of me while you fucked her?" His face turned into a look of horror as he realized you did in fact know what he did. He opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

"You really couldn't keep it in your pants for three days?" You were beyond mad, you were livid. "Baby I'm sorry." He choked out. He wasn't even going to try and defend himself. You were hoping he would, that he would tell you that Sam had lied and that he loved you, that he would never cheat on you. But he didn't. He didn't even try to fight.

"Can we please just sit and talk?" You flinched away as he tried to put his hand on your arm. You felt disgusted by his touch, disgusted at the thought that you let him touch you, disgusted with yourself for loving him. You just shook your head and grabbed your keys, walking towards the door.

"I'm done. We're done." You felt your entire being shatter as you said those four words as if your whole world was collapsing in on itself. You felt like you were never going to be whole again. This was your family, your life, your home, and you were leaving it. You didn't even get to say goodbye to Sam or Castiel. You watched as the bunker shrunk in your rearview window as you drove away from the only safe place you've known for the last six years.

For the first time since you found out you let yourself break down. You couldn't help the tears rushing down your cheeks as memories flood your mind.

*****

You watched as a black impala came to a stop and two men stepped out wearing suits. You watched as they flashed an FBI badge at the sheriff and he let them through. The closer they got the more you could have sworn you knew them. You stared as they walked over to the crime scene, that you had just finished examining. Eavesdropping you heard them talk about the previous victims and how it looked like a wendigo. That's when it clicked, these were the Winchester brothers. Your aunt Ellen knew their dad and used to hunt with him. She taught you everything you knew.

"What are you boys doing on my case?" You had pulled them both aside, slightly mad that they were intruding on your hunt. "Umm, the Bureau sent us," Dean said hesitantly. You scoffed, "I know you aren't FBI jackass, This is my hunt." You whisper yelled as Dean looked dumbfounded. He stared at you for a moment before speaking again. "Well um, you can go, we got this covered."

"I sure as shit am not leaving. I was here first and I'm finishing MY hunt." You quickly turned on your heel heading towards your car. "Looks to me like you are leaving!"Dean called out as Sam let out a small laugh. "Oh fuck you!" you shouted back causing the other officers to look at you.

Dean turned to look at his brother and laughed. "I like her." He muttered as they went back to investigate.

*****

You pulled off to the side of the road and parked for a few minutes while you tried to recollect yourself. The day you had met him you knew he was going to be important to you, as much as you tried to hide it.

Your life revolved around him, all of them. You were with them when they went from crashing in trashy motels to having a bunker to call home. You hunted with them, laughed with them, cried with them, mourned with them. They were your family, and now it was all over. You were alone and there wasn't any going back.

Over the next few months Dean had tried to call repeatedly, Sam texted you and you would read them and even responded once or twice to let him know you were at least still alive. Cas popped in a few times in the beginning but you told him to stop. You didn't want to feel helpless and that's how they were treating it.

Dean was a mess without you. He would drink all the time and became violent on hunts, it was like he was a whole new person but you didn't really care. You were done with him, you were done with all of them. Granted Sam and Cas didn't do anything wrong but you didn't want any connection to Dean so you cut all ties.

You had just finished a pretty easy hunt and decided to treat yourself to a drink at the local bar. You walked in, took a seat, and ordered a drink. As you sat waiting you looked around and that's when it happened. Your eyes froze as you saw a pair of candy apple green ones staring back.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean #winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #imagines #dean winchester x #dean winchester angst

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger

I Am Sorry

Summary - Alone in your room, you try to figure out how your past life had been.

Pairing - Dean x Reader (??), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Warning - Angst, mentions of drinking, swearing and did I mention angst

Word Count - 2066

Square Filled - Bunker ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - So I know I have been a little MIA for a over a week now and it has been a lot time since I have updated any of my series. But I finally got my motivation to continue this part and my other series so hopefully I won't abandon this series again. Regularity and me - we don't have a good relationship.

Anyways happy reading!

Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Spn divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

There were no more tears left to cry. You had spent the whole evening crying, trying to think of any possible reason as to why Dean would do such a thing, trying to bring yourself forgive him, but you couldn't. You needed to know why Dean took such a drastic measure to erase himself from your life.

Your stomach grumbled. You sat up and rubbed your face with your hands. You didn't know what time it was, but you assumed it was sometime around midnight, considering how long you had been in the bunker. You needed food in your stomach. There was a knock on your door. You hoped it was not Dean. You couldn't face him right now.

“Y/N, it's Sam,” the voice called from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief. You got out of your bed, and walked up to the wooden door, opening it.

“Hey,” you said.

“I got you food,” Sam smiled.

“A literal angel.” You said.

“I figured you might be hungry after everything you have been through and I also got you a drink.” He gave you a knowing smile.

“Thank you. Do you want to….come in I guess,” you told him.

“If that's okay with you.”

“Sure.” Sam followed you into the room, a plate of food in one hand, and some clothes on another.

“I hope you still like junk food.” Sam chuckled.

“Oh yeah!” You grinned, smiling for the first since the fallout.

“Here,” he handed you the clothes, “You need some fresh pair of clothes. They might be a little too big.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm sorry.” He said.

“What're you sorry for? Your brother's a dumbass,” you scoffed.

“Cas said that what he did is irreversible.” He said. “He said something about grace and how magic done by grace can't be reversible so-”

“I won't remember anything.” You said.

“I called Rowena-”

“The witch?” You asked.

“Yes. She said she will pay us a visit tomorrow. Maybe she can come up with a solution,” he hoped.

“I don't think so, Sam.” you exhaled loudly.

“Listen I am not supporting his stupid decision but Dean, at that time he thought he was doing the right thing,” He sighed. “We'll figure somethin’ out, Y/N/N.”

“He could have talked to me. We could have come up with a different solution other than me having to live without remembering half of my life,” you bitterly laughed.

“I know.” Sam walked up to you and suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.

“Sam, c-can't….breathe,” you gasped.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly smiled and let go of you, “I missed having you around. I really hated the decision Dean made. He didn't think of anyone. You were like my little sister I never thought I needed. I really missed you Y/N/N.”

“Wish I could say the same.” You gave him a sad smile.

“Eat up. You must be starving. Maybe we can reverse the spell….or whatever it is,” Sam said.

“Yeah. Thank you….for everything, Sam,” you said, as he smiled and turned to leave the room, “Sam, wait.”

“Yeah?” He looked back at you.

“I-”

“What is it?” He insisted.

“How is he?” You blurted out.

“Dean? He's, you know, holed up in his room, drinking. I'll check on him on my way out to make sure his liver survives the night.” Sam said.

“Okay.” you said and wished him goodnight as he left the room. After taking a swig from the bottle of beer, you finished off with the burger Sam had brought for you before retreating back to the bed.

Sleep didn't come easy that night. Mind plagued by various thoughts, you kept tossing and turning in your bed. Not only the thoughts about how your previous life was but also the dream you had, when the Djinn had captured you, kept you up all night. Dean said those monsters show you what your heart desires, then why did you dream about a life with Dean? He was just a guy at the bar for you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realised a big chunk of your memory was missing and you wouldn't probably ever get it back.

You wanted to scream and punch Dean for playing with your life, playing with your relationship, but right now, lying in your bed in which was supposed to be your home, you felt helpless. You got out of the bed finally giving up on sleep and started to rummage through the drawers of your nightstand - searching for anything that would possibly bring back your memory.

Nothing significant caught your eyes until you saw an old leather-bound diary and small black box. Climbing back into your bed, you looked curiously at the two things in your hand.

You opened the box and found a bunch of pictures inside it. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at the pages. There were four pictures in total, all of them of you and Dean. There was this one picture, which was probably clicked by Sam of you and Dean laughing in the backseat of his car but what made your heart break was the diamond ring which was clearly visible on your left hand. An inaudible sob left your lips as you saw the next picture which completely shattered your heart. You didn't have any memory of the happiest day of your life. You stared at the picture of you standing in a white dress in front of a mirror, lips curled up into a small smile and eyes sparkling with hope and happiness. You saw the reflection of Dean in a black tux in the mirror as he stood behind you with a camera pointed at the mirror, as he clicked a picture of his bride. You got married that day, you were happy, you both were. Then why did Dean have to go and throw out every good thing he ever had?

Picking up the diary, you started to look through. It was some sort of a journal you used to keep. You flipped through the pages until a certain entry grabbed your attention.

‘This is frustrating. I should be able to maintain my cool! We were on a damn Rugaru hunt. If Sam wasn't there to save my ass, I would have died. Stupid Dean with his stupid gorgeous face. There were so many times I wanted to tell him everything but what if he doesn't feel the same? Goddamnit! I think I will take off for a few days. Clear my head so that I stop daydreaming about that green eyed son of a bitch!’

You chuckled at your bluntness. You flicked through the pages and started reading another entry.

‘I feel numb. I don't know what to think anymore. He's gone. Just like that. I don't even know if he's dead or not. Sammy went out for a drive leaving me behind in the motel room. That was three days ago. I don't know what to do anymore. Bobby's dead. Cas is gone too and Dean is, I don't know anymore. I need him to come back. Please. I can't live without him. Please, come back.’

You had so many questions about what had happened that day. From the diary entries, you could feel how much love you had for Dean. He said that he still loved you. The same question haunted you again, then why did he push you away? You flipped to the last entry in the journal.

‘I am scared for him. He won't talk to me. He would barely look at me. The mark is eating him alive on the inside. I am scared and confused. I don't know how to help him. This is not the Dean Winchester I married. I need my husband back.”

That was the last entry in your diary. You read it a few times but couldn't understand anything. What was the mark? What happened in the last few days? You needed to talk to Sam, hoping he would tell you everything.

You had spent your entire night or what was left of it reading through the journal and rummaging around your room for any other clues or snippets from your forgotten life. Three short knocks on the door made you jump out of your skin.

You hesitated a little before opening the door. After everything you had learnt overnight, you were in no state to face Dean. You had questions that you needed answers but you didn't want to talk to him.

“You okay, Y/N?” A voice asked and you sighed in relief when you realised it was Sam. You went over and opened the door.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Why?” You casually asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Nothing….I was going out for my morning run and heard sounds from your room. Why are you up so early? You-uh, you never were a morning person,” Sam said.

“Can't sleep.” You replied.

“This all must be very overwhelming for you.”

“And confusing. I have so many questions,” you frowned, “I need answers, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes sparkled as he heard you call him ‘Sammy’, and he smiled at you.

“What?” You cocked your head sideways.

“You called me Sammy.” He said.

“Is that-did I do….did I say something wrong?” You asked.

“No no no, you always used to call me that. You picked up that name from Dean and then you hardly called me Sam anymore,” he chuckled, “you want to go with me for a run? It will clear your head and I know you still don't want to….meet him.”

“Uh-huh. Give a few minutes to get ready. Maybe you can give me the answers to the millions of questions I have,” you said.

“Sure.”

“So he became a demon?” You asked, panting as you tried to keep with Sam’s long legs. You were honestly shocked to learn about how your life had been. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires - that's all that you knew in that life. The Winchesters were on a run from law and some assumed they were dead, and they did die a number of times.

“Yeah. And that's when things started to go downhill,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you both approached the bunker door. Sam kept quiet.

“Sammy?”

“I think you should ask Dean. It's not my place to say,” he whispered.

“But-” Sam shook his head and went down the stairs and you followed him.

Dean was still nowhere to be found which was a relief but you were also a little stressed out about his condition. He was cooped up in his room since the previous night with a bottle of Jack - as told to you by Sam - which was definitely not healthy.

“I know he is probably the last person you want to see right now but you should talk to him. He is the only person who can speak for his actions.” You nodded your head at the younger brother.

“I need a little more time before I can even look at him.” You sighed.

“I know.” The low grumble from the other side of the room, caught your attention. You turned sideways, your heart dropping to your stomach when you took in the sight of the man in front. He looked like he had aged ten years overnight. His red rimmed eyes were heavy with guilt and sadness. His scruffy cheeks were sunken and pale. “I couldn't find any of you in the bunker.”

“We went for a run.” Sam replied.

“Run? I thought you-” Dean looked at you.

“People change.” You averted your eyes, making him wince at your coldness. He knew he deserved it but he still loved you.

“Well, I took a shower so I don't reek of whiskey anymore. You never liked the smell of alcohol on me.” Dean said, trying to make small talk to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Good for you.” You needed to leave the room so you turned on your heels to leave.

“Y/N-” his voice made you stop in your tracks. “I'm sorry. You-you don't have to forgive me but….please, I-I need you to know that I'm sorry.”

“I know.” And that's all you said before you went to your room.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

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allisonbaelfire · 4 years ago

Text

The One that was once Mine

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean was now on his own again and got lost while driving at night, where he met another hunter. Y/N Kyle. She was a famous vampire hunter, but more of a myth as no one had ever seen or really knew her. Who was she and could he trust her?

Chapter Summary: Dean and Sam had an argument, which is why Sam decided to be alone for a while. Dean got lost because Sammy was actually the one who always said where to go. When he wanted to look at the map, he noticed a woman covered in blood.

Words: 1,810

Authors Note: Summerbreak is over Ladies and Gentleman, I’m back.

This is an Supernatural AU! This story isn’t based on special season, but it still happens in the beginning before the angels came.

____________________________________

Now:

“You’ve a place in my heart no one else ever could’ve.”

Dean looked at the tombstone and placed a red rose under the picture, the woman who still occupied his heart even after her death. Dean tried to suppress his tears when he saw the picture on the stone. He took a deep breath and turned around, he couldn’t look at the tombstone without his heart bleeding inside.

_______

Then:

Dean and Sam had an argument that broke the barrel for Sam. When he saw a bus stop, he brought Dean and his Impala to stop and got out of the car with his things.

“Oh Sammy, come on.” Dean lifted his arms up as his younger brother was about to leave. “Where do you want to go? Just take a god damn Bus and take off?”

Sam stopped and took a deep breath. "Anywhere." He turned and looked at Dean. Sam was tired. "I need some time out, I have to think."

Dean didn't know what to do, on one side he understood his brother, Sam emphasized often how tired he was of hunting and he was still so young. Dean has always wished that he could live a different life but on the other side, their father had disappeared, there was no time for a break. It made Dean angry to see how selfish Sam was.

Dean shook his head. “Just go.”

Sam let his head down a bit. There was no point in arguing with his big brother, it never was. Before Sam could even raise his arm to say goodbye, Dean said "I'll find you when I need you", then he turned around and drove off with the Impala. Dean looked in the rearview mirror and saw Sam getting into the bus.

_______

He was very worried about Sam. He was afraid of losing his brother too, now were his father was nowhere to be found. But he was also angry, angry that Sam just left him by himself.

Dean tried to distract himself and turned on his favorite AC/DC CD, The Razors Edge. He wanted to sing along, but he couldn't get out more than a mumble. He was thinking too much.

Dean wasn’t used to drive alone anymore, usually Sam told him where the next stop was and through his thoughts he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. He was lost. Dean stopped at the side of the road, got out of the car, and went to the trunk.

He looked for the map but couldn't find it. "God damn it!" he slammed the trunk shut.

“You freakin’ vampires, I’ll kill all of you!”

A woman's voice that sounded so tender despite being angry caught Dean's attention. It took him a moment. "Vampires"?

The voice wasn't far away. Dean went back to his trunk, got his knife and two pistols and decided to look for the woman.

But she was faster. What initially looked like a speeding shadow, quickly turned into a woman covered in blood, with a long knife in her left hand, that Dean had never seen before.

“In the car, hurry!” She shouted.

Dean couldn't move, the situation was confusing him. She walked past him and got behind the wheel of his car.

“In the car now, or I’ll drive off.”

Dean jumped over his cowling to get into the passenger seat. As soon as he saw it in his own car, the unknown woman drove off with screeching tires.

_______

“What the hell, Lady?”

Dean finally found words again. It almost hurt him seeing how the unknown woman next to him drove his baby, and how she smeared his steering wheel with blood. Also, it was very strange for him to sit in the passenger seat.

She didn't say a word, which confused Dean and also angered him. Still, he looked at her to see if it was her blood or someone else's.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a softer tone.

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or steal your car for that matter.”

She had a soft and warm voice, but Dean noticed that she was still very stressed.

“You know where you’re going?”

She grinned slightly, she tried so hard to get them both as far away as possible, that she hadn't given it any thought where to go next.

She shook her head. “Nope, do you’ve a map?” She looked at him.

It was the first time that he could really see her, even when it was dark, there was something beautiful about her silhouette.

Dean looked at her a bit too long to really see something, "so?" she asked. Dean was glad that it was dark, he felt that it was dark, he grinned because he felt caught out.

“Usually, I’m the driver and my brother shows me the way, so I have no idea where he put the map.” He replied.

“Maybe its right in front of you.” She spoke.

It took Dean a minute, the he opened the compartment in the dashboard. “Damn it, Sammy.”

She chuckled a little. “So where’s the next motel?”

“30 km straight ahead and then left.”

_______

By the time they got to the motel it was past midnight.

“I don’t know if we’ll get a room here.” Dean said as he looked around. “Looks tiny and dark.”

“You can have my blanket, if you need to hide under it.” She replied while looking around to find out where to check in.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Yup.” Then she glided past him.

_______

“Hey, we need two rooms.”

“Separated rooms.” Dean insisted on making that clear while faking a smile.

The woman standing in front of the two was paralyzed when she saw them both in front of her. She wondered why they needed a room so late and why she was covered in blood. But she also thought it would be better not to ask questions, she ran a motel, and strange characters appeared often.

“We- we only have one more room le-left.” She replied while trying not to stare at them.

“Fine.” Dean rolled his eyes, while the Motel Dame gave him the keys.”We’ll leave tomorrow, don’t worry.”He smiled.

_______

Dean opened the door to the motel room and the unknown woman, of whom he still didn't know the name, strolled in first.

“One bed, I probably should shower first.” She joked as she looked around. “You can have-”

Dean closed the door behind him. He pulled out his colt and the second he tried to unlock it, she turned around in a flash and pointed a knife at his neck.

“Ah-ah, I wouldn’t do such stupid things if I were you.” She spoke soft as his green eyes starred at her’s trying to figure out what was going on. “You’re Dean Winchester, I should’ve known by the Impala but I was to distracted-” She locked her eyes with his and noticed tiny specks of yellow, “to safe your ass.”

He tried not to swallow while the knife was so close to his throat. “I think my Baby and I saved you. Who the hell are you?” Dean managed to hold his knife to her ribs unnoticed.” He looked mischievously at his knife, he wanted her to notice.

Dean’s effort amused her, “My name is Y/N, Y/N Kyle.” She took a few steps away from Dean.

“The Vampire hunter.” He remembered.

Sam had told Dean that he heard of a rumor, a rumor that made the rounds around hunters for a long time, a woman who was digging out vampire nests all by herself and she was very successfully.

“If you don't want your famous Winchester hand to be missing a finger, I would recommend you put the knife back, slowly.” Y/N had a menacing undertone while she put her knife on the bedside table.

Dean thought she would be reckless for a hunter to turn her back on him like that. But maybe he was the reckless one all along.

“I can’t believe this.” He mumbled and put the knife back.

He would always help someone in need, that’s just what he does and it was the middle of the night when he heard her, but she clearly said vampires. How couldn’t he have noticed that she was a Hunter? And what's more, it could have been a trap, it could still be a trap he didn’t saw any Vampire.

“You don’t trust me.” She could tell by his body language. “Chill, if I wanted you dead, you’d be.” Y/N gave him a soft smile.

Dean lifted the corner of his mouth sarcastically. He thought about leaving Y/N here, she was safe and she was right, Dean didn't trust her. He could just get in the Impala and drive on.

“You won’t drive,”

Dean tilted his head slightly, could she now read thoughts and how could she say something like that? She didn't know him.

He crossed his arms. “-What? Why wouldn’t I?” Y/N triggered something in him but Dean didn't know what it was.

Y/N pulled off her shirt. She couldn't stand the smell of blood and sweat for a second longer. Dean turned around when he saw that she was undressing, but she still hadn't answered his question.

“Because it’s the middle of the night, you’ve nowhere else to go and besides that you’re alone and a not so un-famous hunter. Every monster will be after you when they notice you’re on your own.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Besides that you’re curious why I ran.” She pointed out.

Y/N noticed that Dean felt uncomfortable when he ran his hands through his hair. She sometimes forgot that she could be intimidating when she analyzed people, she often did so unconsciously, especially after another mission when she was not around any other humans for a long time.

“I have nothing to wear, my car is about 80 km away. I can take a bus tomorrow but it would be nice, if you could lend me a shirt and let me take a shower now.”

Y/N tried to sound nice, where Dean also saw that she was exhausted. “Sure, I’ll get my stuff, I’ll take the key with me but I’ll knock twice before I come in.” He wanted to make sure that Y/N could feel safe, he thought maybe she could use that.

_______

Dean went to his Impala, he sighed. He was clearly overwhelmed by today. Still worried about where Sam might be, he opened his car, got his stuff from the backseat and locked the car again.

Y/N had a point, he wouldn’t drive away just like that. Y/N was right about the things she said but Dean thought that not only was he alone, she was too and who knows what she had to go through today.

_______

I hope you liked the first part of The One that was once Mine, please leave a small comment, it’d make my day. :)

#dean winchester #Dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester gif #supernatural #supernatural gif #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #supernatural fanfic series #sam winchester #castiel #writer #allison baelfire #thank you jensen #jensen deserves better #jensen ackles #destiel

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herstarburststories · 5 years ago

Text

Knives & Calls (Dean Winchester x Reader)

A/N: Okay, first I just wanted to do a phone themed thing + incorrect quote of b99 here, but the idea just kept going and I decided to go with it. That format — phone text — was already used by some writers on Tumblr, and I decided to give it a shot. Feedback is encouraged.

Summary: You decided to check on Dean after a hunt, but it's easy to notice that something is missing. A video chat might be needed for you to make sure that he's okay.

Warnings: sexual insinuating, very slightly angst, not beta'd.

You smiled for no one but yourself when the picture of a grimacing Dean popped up. You remembered telling him to smile for you to take a photo, and his first reaction being to turn around and make a face at your phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows together, confused about his answer. Of course, Sam always tends to be more careful, check everything twice and analyze more than anyone else. But not even his slight hunter-like paranoia would somehow trick him into telling Dean to stay one more night in a cheap motel after they got comfortable in the bunker.

Although, you could be exaggerating. The boys could'vee been looking for a brother time, which would still be unlike. After all, spending a weekend with your brother would be way better somewhere away from a random, probably stinky motel. Perhaps for the shake of the good old times?

Dean's next text confirmed that you weren't overthinking, and there was no such thing as your hypothetical brotherhood reunion. You had known him for years. Either it was after a sex marathon in the backseat, 5 hours of driving to the repeated sound of his old rock tapes, or even the apocalypse itself, he would always drive. Not even once had Dean Winchester said that he didn't feel like driving his beloved Impala.

The second message came when your quick fingers were dancing against the keyboard to question if they were all right. You signed in relief as another message arrived.

Yet, you asked anyway. After all, you were talking to Dean Winchester. You had tones of emergency kits for him and Sam's weekly wounds.

Leaning forward, you glared at your phone as three tiny balls shook, indicating that Dean was typing. He was clearly avoiding talking about himself, but there was no subtle way of getting out such a direct ask from you. The texting indicator would stop and start again, as if he was writing, erasing, and repeating a few times.

You narrowed eyes at the glowing phone. On the other side, Dean could almost hear the way you said his name, not putting up for his weak excuses. If he closed his eyes, there would be facility to picture you crossing your arms and giving him a worried, yet half annoyed glance.

You didn't wait any further minute, slipping from the text messages application to the phone one, and calling him.

''Dean Winchester, what the fuck is lightly stabbed!?" Your furious tone englobed the obvious concern. You didn't need to see him to know that probably wasn't even one of his worst injures, but you were still worried. You always were. It just seemed so close to losing him everytime.

He didn't miss his humoristic trait to attempt lighting up your behavior, "I was stabbed, but it wasn't deep. You should see the other guy, sweetheart. Demon barbecue."

Although his voice wasn't near shaking, you could notice a glimpse of fragility there, as if he had just left a combat and wanted to keep up the strong warrior facet, while going through a terrible pain. It was lower than usual.

God, you just wished he was home.

"(Y/N), I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll be home tomorrow." Dean said softly; he knew that you didn't enjoy being a part from him when he got hurt. But you couldn't come with them since you had another case in the opposite direction. In fact, you had got home about fifteen minutes ago.

Squeezing the cellphone against your ear like it held your sanity, you nodded, "Or you could just let Sam drive and come home now, so I can take care of you."

The suggestion was laughed off by both of you. Of course he wouldn't.

A bit more relaxed, you pulled your phone away from your face, looking for a certain button before clicking there.

Just like that, Dean's face saw yours through a screen.

"Told you it wasn't that bad." He arches his eyebrows. Truly, his face was barely hurt. Just a few bruises that would go away within a few days. Rolling your eyes, you answerd:

"Very funny, Winchester. Let me see your--" Dean's smirk at this caused you to shake you head from side to side. He was unbelievable. 42 years, injured by a knife, and he would still manage to have a mind of a 25-years-old. "--Wound. Let me see your wound, Dean."

He huffed but moved the phone towards his main injure of the day anyway. Dean lifted his flannel shirt a little, showing the wound that was localizated near to his ribs.

You had to admit, it didn't apparent great profundity, at all. Away from the top five hurtings you had seen grabbed onto him.

"Are you sure it's not too much pain?"

His camera was fixed on the celling for a brief moment before Dean's face was lined to the screen again. Your own unnoticed tense muscles relaxing to the certainty that he was all right.

"Yeah, I've gone through worse. Besides, magic pills." Dean smiled wryly, grabbing the orange bottle and shaking it before putting it somewhere the video call didn't catch. "Your hunt--"

"The easy but necessary kind of job. Sault and burn." You shrugged, adjusting the phone on the table beside your shared bed.

"So, Sammy is not here." His eyebrows raised in insinuation. You pretended not to know where he was going with you, offering a simply agreeing noise in response. "We could play a bit."

"Maybe..." You purred and glared at him. Interrupting his next words before he could even push them out of his sinful mouth, abandoned your shirt. His eyebrows raised, slightly surprised and very appreciative to the view. You grabbed the phone, allowing the camera to travel from your lips, to your neck, then shoulders and collarbone. Dean's eyes glared at your distant skin in anticipation, his cock starting to tremble from excitement. Fuck, he missed touching you.

Unfortunately, the eldest Winchester didn't get to see his favorite part -- your boobs. You just switched the camera from the frontal one, causing it to show the floor of your and Dean's room instead. A complain was on the tip of his tongue, but it didn't come to the light when his eyes glanced at your red bra being thrown on the ground.

"Sweetheart, let me see you, come on." He whimpers, pressing his teeth to his lip. If Dean couldn't touch you right way, he could at least see your wonderful body; perhaps even watch you play with yourself, while screaming his name.

Your answer came to the light in a soft hearted laughter. Dean winged his eyebrow, very well aware that wasn't your playful, teasing laughter.

You aligned the mobile once again, which focused mainly on your face, well fixed above your collarbone. Dean let out a frustrated sigh as your smiled devilish at him.

"Next time, you better tell me when you get stabbed and not make up excuses, Winchester. Then maybe you would get some tonight." You shrugged, enjoying the small pout on his lips. "You have to rest. Guess I'll go enjoy myself and imagine you here. I'm already wet anyway. See you tomorrow!"

" What the--" You hang up the phone without any further warning, leaving a incredulously surprised Dean Winchester glaring at his mobile as if it had just started flying across the room or anything extremely shocking. "WOMAN! COME BACK!"

Dean screamed at the phone as if it contained you. He tried to call you up a few times, but you just laughed about it from the bunker. Groaning, he stared at his semi erect and clothed member.

His phone made a noise again, indicating a new message. He leaned in and opened it as fast as humanly possible, only to let an exasperated howl escape again. You were one of a kind. Specifically, his kind.

Goodnight, babe. Try not to scream too loud when you are thinking about me and touching that delicious cock if yours. ;)

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liron-ao3 · 4 years ago

Text

Read on AO3 here.

Pie-ning

It's in the wee hours and the kitchen worktop looks like after a demon attack.

A thin layer of flour dusts the stainless steel, butter softened by being outside the fridge for too long slowly greases the surface. Scraps of clingfilm are stuck on the bench, and dough sticks to a rolling pin. Formerly ice-cold water reached room temperature a while ago.

Castiel sits at the wooden dining table, his arms folded underneath his head. "This is a disaster," he murmurs.

The plan started easy enough. Castiel waited until Dean, Sam, and Jack were fast asleep. Then he started with the filling, because the recipe said so.

Unfortunately he hadn't read it properly. It asked for ready made pie crusts and well, he hadn't had the time to go shopping and smuggling the apples inside had been difficult enough.

The filling was already cooling in the pot when Castiel started to search the internet for pie crust recipes. They sounded easy enough. Boy, was he wrong.

Cutting the dough with a fork was a drudgery and it took ages to produce something that looked even close to what the photos showed. Why for heaven's sake had a kitchen where Dean Winchester lived and breathed not a pastry cutter!?

The recipe mentioned to cool the dough for an hour, but Castiel was running out of time and hoped it wouldn't turn out too bad if he gave it just 15 minutes in the fridge.

Well, it did. Turn out bad, that is. About half an hour ago, Castiel declared defeat by carbohydrates and fat. Stupid molecules!

Right when he decides to rise and clean up the mess he made, the kitchen door swings open. In comes Dean, eyes still at halfmast, the open bathrobe showing his batman pyjamas. Castiel can't suppress a small smile at the sight. How can a grown man look so adorable?

When Dean catches his gaze, Castiel looks down at his wringing hands, not sure if he can hide the heat he sure feels crawling up his neck. Maybe it's just a phantom blush. He hopes it is just that.

"Whatcha doin', Cass?" Dean asks, looking around the kitchen. He scowls at the chaos.

Castiel diverts his gaze to the messy worktop and opens his mouth to say something, but his lips close again when he realises that the reason is a sure thing to turn into something he will be the butt of the joke of.

He gets up and walks over, scrapes the unsuccessful attempt of an apple pie into the wastebin.

Dean watches him in utter silence. He frowns at the scene as Castiel opens the fridge to save the rest of the butter, walks to the kitchen sink, does the dishes as if he hadn't heard the question still hanging between them.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his still sleep-heavy head. This is too much before his first coffee of the day.

He contemplates to walk over to prepare a cup of liquid ambrosia, but the even for his own standards oddly acting angel deems him more important. Dean cocks an eyebrow at that thought. Must be the sleep deprivation talking.

Castiel concentrates on the cleaning. Maybe Dean will just walk away and leave him be. It's not as if he didn't already think him to be weird. Even after knowing each other for so long, Castiel is well aware of the fact that they might be friends, even family of some kind, but that Dean still doesn't see him as a normal man. He is always set apart, but who isn't in this strange, self-made family? They are all freaks in their own ways.

Dean's attempts to dress him up, to make him appear more human notwithstanding, Castiel thinks he still sees him as not really part of this world. Or maybe it's just Castiel's fear that whispers these thoughts into his ear. They've never been good at talking things out. That nearly broke their friendship more than once.

As Castiel pulls the plug and dries his hands on the white apron Dean loves to use, he feels a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. He wishes it would ground him, but it doesn't. It stirs him up in a very confusing way. It's not exactly hurting. Castiel knows pain. He's a born soldier after all. But on the other hand, it kind of does, but in a more than physical way. Every touch outside a life and death situation sends tendrils through his body, interacts with his grace, lights up every synapse of the human body that is wholy his now. He feels like going up in flames, the heat spreading like a wildfire from his shoulder to every cell of his body.

The hand just stays where Dean put it, a silent question, just a few more unspoken words between them.

Castiel wishes he could just say out loud what it feels like to be touched by Dean. To finally see his reaction. At this point the outcome would be nearly all the same to him. His urge to make Dean happy, to help him with all the crap that is thrown at him won't go away anyway.

"Speak to me, buddy," Dean orders, his voice still rough from sleep, and Castiel huffs a tiny laugh in response.

"I wanted to surprise you."

Castiel can nearly hear Dean's frown now. He turns to look at the other man which is a mistake as they are standing way too close now. But they somehow always do, so what's the point in correcting it?

The soft titillation of Dean's breath dancing on Castiel's skin is a welcome distraction from the thoughts the angel allows himself to think only very rarely in Dean's presence.

The hunter's breath catches and he takes a step back. Of course.

"I thought it would be nice to have pie for the special occasion. I know traditionally it's a cake, but as you love pie, I thought ..."

Dean stares at him in confusion. "What are you talking about, man?"

"It's your birthday, Dean." Castiel shrugs his shoulders nearly apologetically. "Granted, I don’t know the traditions in the House of Winchester, as I never celebrated your birthdays with you before, but Sam didn't buy a cake and Jake won't know that ..."

"You baked me a birthday pie?" Dean asks with barely hidden delight in his voice. His face lights up in the most beautiful way. It takes Castiel's breath away for a long moment.

"Well, ... I tried," he says when he can breathe again. He gestures to the waste bin and presses his jaws together, "but it seems I failed."

Dean starts laughing, a whole body, full belly laugh. He slams his hands on the worktop and shakes his head. Castiel looks at him, a tiny smile forming on his lips. He could hear Dean laugh for all eternity. It's not often enough that he has a reason to do it. The lines around his eyes are at least 50 percent made of grief and pain. Castiel would give everything to let them grow deeper only from laughter from now on.

The sparkle in Dean's eyes catches him off guard. There was a time when Castiel had seen the beauty of Dean's soul, the goodness of his heart. He still sees all of this despite the things the hunter has done and what others did to him. But there is even more he sees now.

Maybe it's because he lived with humans for too long or it's just Dean, Castiel isn't quite sure. But what he is sure about is that Dean is beautiful on a purely physical level, scars, wrinkles, and all. It's the greenness of his eyes and the curl of his lips, the slight curve if his nose and the freckles dusting his cheeks. Castiel can barely keep himself from staring. Not that any of them is good at stopping themselves from doing that, again and again. It's awkward for everyone forced to watch.

Dean grins at him with that boyish look that makes him seem a decade younger and that turns Castiel's legs into jelly. Dean Winchester will be the death of him, most likely literally. The angel doesn't even care. It would be worth it, if he saved him instead.

"That's ...," Dean trails off and blushes a little. Adorable and beautiful shouldn't be looks that go hand in hand together, but the hunter somehow pulls it off. "I don't know what to say, buddy ... Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank for. Filling doesn't make a pie." Castiel waves his hand into the stove's direction and Dean straightens to walk over. He sticks his finger into the mixture and stuffs a piece of apple into his mouth.

Cinnamon explodes on his tounge, the tartness of the apple perfectly balanced with brown sugar. "That stuff is good. I tell ya, I could eat it with a spoon."

The mere thought that Castiel put into this warms Dean's heart in ways that he couldn't admit to anybody. He wished he could speak his thruth out loud just once. How these little gestures keep him from falling apart, how Castiel's kindness rubbs off on him, and how thankfull he is that the angel somehow manages it to keep him human. But that's not possible, not without risking to let even deeper things out. "This is friggin' awesome!" he says instead.

Castiel smiles mildly at the praise. He watches Dean beam at him as if he hang the moon and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest. Human bodies are weird.

"As I see it, we have two options here," Dean says matter-of-factly.

Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow, amusement clearly tugging on the corners of his lips. "Is that so?"

"Mmh," Dean says around another fingerful of filling. "A - We pull out the spoons and share it just between us; the others will never know. Or B - I show you how to make a proper crust."

Castiel's face turns into a countenance of surprise. "You know how to do that?"

"Yeah. It's not as easy as pie. The folk saying is wrong about that. But it's no witchcraft either."

Dean raises his hand to motion Castiel to stay put and returns just a few minutes later with an old notebook in his hand. A women's handwriting says 'Recipes' on the front and Dean browses the pages until he finds what he was looking for.

Castiel watches him in silence, his eyes tightening in concentration. Dean appears almost bubbly. The angel hasn't seen him like that often. It only occurs when the hunter lets his guard down and that's barely happening.

"There it is. My grandma's pie recipe. That's how my mum baked it."

Pain flickers over Dean's face for a second before he schools it. He walks to the fridge and pulls a fresh block of butter from the back of it, then collects the other ingredients.

"It's important to work quickly and then give it a good, cool rest," he says and starts working as if he had done this a hundred times before. Maybe he did. Castiel watches him with awe.

"Help me with the water and the vinegar," the hunter says and Castiel obliges with a soft smile, watching as Dean uses a wooden spoon to incorporate the liquids and then switches to using his hands to form the dough.

"I didn't know you were a baker," Castiel states.

Dean chuckles. "Well, I haven't done proper baking until we moved into the bunker. I used cake mixes before that. One year I stole cupcakes from the store for Sammy's birthday."

Dean's smile falters at the memory. "We aren't really great at celebrations. I tried to give Sammy the holiday and birthday experience, but ... I guess it fell short on what other people have."

Castiel looks at him with sad eyes. "I'm sure Sam appreciated your efforts."

Dean shrugs it off. There is no use in dwelling too long on his fucked up childhood. He clears his throat. "Where is the plastic wrap?"

Castiel reaches under the table and hands it over, their fingers brushing against each other when Dean takes it. The hunter looks at him from beneath his long eyelashes. Castiel remembers when he recreated every single one of them, not knowing what a gaze thrown through them would be able to do to him one day.

He swallows the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe he should just say it, get over with it, see Dean's disgust or delight or even indifference. But, no. That could destroy everything between them. It's enough to be allowed to be in Dean's orbit. It has to.

Dean busies himself to put the dough into the fridge and cleans the surface of the worktop. He dries his hands at a rag and leans against the kitchen island. Castiel's gaze is as unreadable as it is inescapable now and Dean feels a rush of something running through his body.

The softness of Castiel's eyes is warming him from inside out and the feeling is highly disturbing. He can't have these kind of emotions for his best friend who isn't even a real human being.

Dean rolls his eyes inwardly at himself. As if that would be the main problem here. He interrupts his train of thought and walks over to the coffee maker, brewing two cups.

"I wish I could have taken the pain away," Castiel says seemingly apropos of nothing.

Dean sits down at the table, putting one mug in front of him and one on the opposite side of the table. He stays silent for a long moment. "Care to elaborate?"

"When I rebuilt you. My order was to pull you out of hell and put you back into the exact state you were before, past injuries, bad memories, and all. I wish I had known you well enough then to spare you at least some of them."

Dean purses his lips and shruggs. "It's what made me who I am today."

Castiel nods and sits down. "That's true. A righteous man, loyal and caring. The best friend someone could ask for."

Dean blushes under the praise. "Come on, man. Don't turn this into a chick flick moment."

Castiel tilts his head to the side and his eyes tighten in concentration when he scrutinises the other man. "I wish you could see yourself the way that I do, Dean," he finally sighs, well knowing that the stubborn hunter would rather leave than listen to the truth. The truth that he is worthy to be saved, worthy to be loved, worthy to die for.

Dean takes a big gulp of his coffee, burning his tongue in the process. The pain is a welcome feeling. It eases the sadness and melancholy inside him that swarms his guts like an unwanted colony of bees. He can't handle Castiel looking at him like that, so open and warm as if he were the most precious gem in God's vast creation.

No, it can't be that. Castiel could never look at him like this. He knows his very soul, he knows how broken he is inside, how ugly his dark spots are and how rare the light ones. There's no way that he looks at him in adoration.

Dean wriggles about on his chair. He doesn't know what to make of it, of this look, of the way the angel always comes back no matter how often he chases him away. And he doesn't know what to make of the feeling of pure relief every time he sees his angel again, well and alive.

Fuck, this shouldn't be so difficult, right? He is just a friend, his best friend. Dean would bake him a cake too, if the angel had a birthday. Or maybe not. Without Castiel Dean wouldn't even know that it is his birthday, today. Calendars kind of lose their meaning if you're hunting monsters and fighting God 24/7, 365 days a year.

No, celebrations and anniversaries are for normal people, and the Winchesters and their chosen family are anything but.

The two men drink their coffee in silence until Dean starts chuckling. Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow.

"One year, I bought a cheap cake mix for my birthday. I used margarine to make it, butter was too expensive. The cake tasted awful," he chuckles. "But Sammy had the idea to coat it and we built little towers of thin sliced cake and jelly layers. My old man was drunk in front of the tv. I had been so happy that he wasn't gone for once that I brought him the tower I had built and he looked at me in this way, where your insides get all twisted and you think you will throw up."

Dean's fingers run over the rim of his now empty mug. He shakes his head to clear it from the memory. Why is every good one always attached to one tainting it?

He feels Castiel's hand nudging on his own, giving it a squeeze when he lets go of the cup without resistance. They keep the contact, loose and soft. It should bug Dean, but he can't make himself pull away. Castiel's hand is like an anchor pinning him to the presence. It's way too easy to get lost in memories if there isn't something or someone to hold on to.

Dean doesn't know how long they are sitting like this. It doesn't matter. He is so starved of human touch. When did he stop to pick up women for that? Maybe at the same time he started to feel comfortable in the rare hugs he and Castiel are sharing.

The timer pulls him out of his unhelpful musing. "Time to rock'n'roll," he exclaims a little too enthusiastically as he pulls his hand away, missing the touch instantly.

Castiel follows him and watches as he dusts the worktop with flour, much more lightly than the angel did a few hours earlier.

"C’mere," Dean says. "I'll teach you how to roll it out properly."

Castiel walks around the kitchen island and stands in front of the two balls of dough, squinting at them suspiciously.

Dean chuckles. "They won't bite. Flour the rolling pin and roll it over it. Not too timidly and not too slow. If it cracks in some places, we can fix it later."

Castiel does as he's told, but the dough doesn't cooperate. Dean laughs at his failing attempts and the angel swears unholy curses, the scale of his embarrassment rising steadily. For heaven's sake. He should be able to do such a mundane task with ease.

He's just short of giving up when he feels Dean moving around him, his hands gliding past him on either side.

Castiel holds his breath when Dean puts his hands on top of his own and guides his movements. The hunter's breath tickles his ear and the closeness of their bodies is nearly unbearable.

If Castiel just knew that Dean is feeling the same. That he's wavering between joy and dread, that the fear to overstep any boundaries nearly overwhelms him. But it feels too good to lightly press into the angel's body and it would be awkward if he pulled back now. So he decides to enjoy it, a little birthday present that's harming no-one but him.

When they managed to roll both crust out, Dean steps back and prepares the baking tin. It's only when the decorated pie is in the oven that his mind goes fully back to Castiel who just finished the cleanup.

Dean should make fun of his appearance, the apron powdered with flour just like the coat the angel is still wearing underneath. But he can't find it in himself to tease him. Because honestly? Castiel without his trenchcoat would border on nudity and Dean knows better than to let his thoughts go astray. It's too risky. It might make him blurt out how much he loves him, that he wants him to stay. Forever.

But no good would come out of it. Are angels even capable of romantic love? Physical attraction, sure. He had that with Anna. Obsession, clearly, as Ishim showed. But true love? Dean swallows at his own thoughts. He knows by now of what nature his feelings for Castiel are. It's not as if he didn't try not to fall in love with the angel. But he can't help it. Damn it, Elvis, shut up!

"What is it?" Castiel asks softly, his low voice vibrating through Dean's very soul.

"Nothing." Yeah, that sounded totally convincing. He clears his throat. "Thank you. For the idea to make me pie and for spending the time with me to finish it."

That sounded more cheezy than wanted, but Castiel doesn't get that. It's little mercies like these that keep Dean from forming puddles of embarrassment ever so often.

"You're welcome," Castiel says, forrowing his brows in a way Dean wants to kiss away. "I liked spending time with you. Although I still wish I would have managed to do it on my own."

Dean chuckles. "I baked our birthday cakes every year, but the only time I remember is the one with the jelly towers. It's memories like that that will stay with us, Cass. Not the picture perfect ones. Not that I had plenty of experience with those. Anyway." Dean clears his throat again. Why is it so dry?

Castiel nods. "You are a remarkable man and I hope to make many more beautiful memories like this with you."

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat with no success. How can the angel just say something like that? As if it was the most natural thing to say. Maybe it is. Or Castiel is just insane. Dean doesn't know what's normal anymore. Maybe he doesn't want to if it means having the angel at his side.

"Yeah," he agrees tersely, too worried that the truth might spill out otherwise. How Castiel's sheer presence makes his life more beautiful, that he would be happy to just look into his eyes and forget the world as he does right now. But he keeps it inside, neatly packed away next to all the other things he holds on tightly, never to see the light of day. His love is poison. He knows that. It had been for Sam, for Lisa and Ben, and even for Castiel way too many times to count.

He wasn't aware that he was staring again when Castiel moves into his personal space and cups his face tenderly with both hands. It would be easy to just lean in a little, to brush his lips over the angel's.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Castiel says reverently and Dean closes his eyes. It's too much and way too little. And still the best birthday present of his life.

#happy birthday dean #happy birthday dean winchester #dean winchester #fanfiction #destiel #deancas #I miss Dean #Dean deserved better

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moonflower-31 · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmares - Gabriel x Reader

No warnings, just keep in mind that I have not seen season 13 yet, so this is just my interpretation of Loki.

And also know, that this is based off the Norse Myths.

Characters: Gabriel and Loki, Dean and Sam (mentioned)

You couldn't sleep for the life of you. You tossed and you turned, you moaned and you groaned, but you couldn't get to sleep. The previous hunt had messed you up. The creature had decided that killing small children was it's favorite pass time. It was a shifter. It shifted into the children's parents before they would go and kill the poor kid. It just didn't sit right with you. Not to mention Gabriel had disappeared soon after they had finished the hunt, not leaving you any sort of explanation or mental note that he often sent you. That was the perk of having a pervy, mind reading archangel as a boyfriend.

To top it all off, your head was pounding, and you couldn't find relief in any of the painkillers or the semi-cold pillow you tried to cool your head off with.

You had curled up in your bed with Gabriel's red shirt on your frame, trying to focus on something other than your pounding skull and your sudden inability to sleep.

You climbed out of bed and yawned, stretching your limbs as you wandered to the nearest bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help.

You climbed out of Gabriel's shirt for a moment and then began running the water, deciding last minute to turn the shower into a hot bath.

You couldn't help but worry about the archangel. He never usually played pranks on you. And when he did, it was never about making you think he had gotten hurt. Which at the current moment, wasn't far off from where your head was at.

You shook your head and stepped into the bathtub, sinking down into the water and closing your eyes. No sounds. No distractions. Just you, alone with your thoughts. How dangerous.

For being a hunter, the last hunt messed you up more than it should have. But who could blame you? Demons had possessed your parents and had tried to kill you, so the hunt had struck a nerve within you. Gabriel was the only one who knew about your past. Other than the Winchesters, obviously. They were the ones who exorcise your possessed parents, and offered you to come on the road with them when they ended up not surviving the exorcism. It had been the best decision of your life.

Gabriel met you soon after, being in hiding, of course. He was the janitor at Crawford Hall, and you had instantly felt something off about him. That he couldn't just be a trickster. Sam and Dean hadn't listened to you. Turns out, you had been right.

Gabriel had taken a liking to you from the very beginning. He liked flirting with you, making you blush, annoying the Winchesters with how obnoxious it often got.

At first, you didn't know how to react, and got flustered really easily. But over time, whenever the trickster and archangel was around, you grew to expect it. And a crush began forming around the flirting and the banter that began between you two.

A smile formed on your lips as you recalled how you had met the archangel, and how he had attached himself to you and your life ever since. Even when you took a small road trip away from the brothers when you had found out you still had family, Gabriel had managed to tag along.

The warm water gently moved over your bare body, slowly lulling you to a long awaited sleep.

When you opened your eyes inside your dream, everything was dark. The trees, the sky, even the sun. It was like someone had turned the contrast up on the world.

You wandered around the dreamscape, seeing nothing lifelike. The trees were barren, and the grass was pale. A harsh wind bustled by your ear and sent a roaring sound pounding through your head. Then the sound started to turn from incoherent roaring to... speech.

It sounded like someone crying for help. Someone familiar. But you couldn't figure out who.

So what do you do? You turn around, and walk towards the voice, despite the roaring wind that still persisted and hollered as it passed you.

As you grow nearer, the voice grows louder, and you can almost tell who it is. Its on the tip of your tongue, you could feel it. And then it hits you. Its Gabriel.

You take a few more steps forward before the scene in front of you changes, and you can suddenly see Gabriel.

Gabriel is being held up against a tall rock, being held there by ropes that were... of unidentifiable origins. His arms and legs were bound, and a snake was hoisted above him, venom dripping from it's fangs down towards his face.

Gabriel let out cries of pain as someone stands in front of him, staring him down. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you knew by Gabriel's reaction, it wasn't good.

You immediately called out Gabriel's name, but he couldn't hear you. You raced forward and tried to rip the ropes off, but they wouldn't budge.

You cried oug in frustration, striking the rock in anger. You rushed to Gabriel's side, and found a bowl on the ground. It was then that you were able to see and hear the other figure, making you freeze when you saw him.

"So you want to be me? Huh? Wanna be in hiding? Well then you gotta take all the perks along with it. You look the part. Now you get all the punishments too." The man sneered, smirking as he stared at Gabriel.

The man looked exactly like Gabriel. All the way to the eyes and the hair. Yet he wore something more Scandinavian than what Gabriel wore. And his pupils were much more slender. It all suddenly hit you. This was Loki. The actual god of mischief that Gabriel had impersonated for his 'Witness Protection'.

Had this actually happened? Had Gabriel dealt with Loki's infamous punishment for killing Baldur?

Your heart ached at the possibility. You looked back up at Gabriel, watching as the venom dripped down and burned his eyes, making him cry out in pain. You immediately picked up the bowl and climb up to the top of the rock, holding the bowl over Gabriel's face, catching the falling venom, even for a second.

"I hope you enjoy all the perks, Feathers. You deserve 'em." Loki sneered, and then looked up. "Huh, maybe you are meant to copy me. You even got yourself a whore to collect the venom for you." Loki jabbed, winking at you. You almost lost your balance, seeing Gabriel below you finally staring up at you with a sad look in his now dull and reforming eyes.

You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Loki stepped forward and gripped your chin, making you squirm. Gabriel let out a growl from below you, making Loki smirk. He said nothing, and merely pressed a meaningless kiss to your lips, and forced your lips against his. It felt wrong. It was nothing like how Gabriel kissed you, despite his lips being the same as Gabriel's. It was lacking in love completely.

Then, suddenly, the bowl in which you had been collecting the venom in, was forcefully tipped over, covering Gabriel in the venom, making you cry out his name, praying over and over that he was okay. Gabriel had immediately let out a loud cry of agony, his limbs and body tensing in pain. Loki laughed maniacally at your terror, and suddenly all of your senses shifted, and you quickly sat up in the bath, having finally woken up from your terrible nightmare.

You skook terribly as you climbed out of the bathtub, draining the now lukewarm water. You wrapped a towel around you and grabbed Gabriel's shirt, carrying it off to your room.

You immediately dropped the towel once your door was closed, and pulled Gabriel's shirt over your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as you whispered a silent prayer to the archangel, just wishing for him to respond. For you to know he was okay and not with some evil, demonic demigod.

Soon a flutter of wings entered your peripheral of audio, and you immediately turned around and hugged the now present archangel.

"Woah! Sugar, I didn't expect a hug from you, especially this early in the morning." He joked, his arms wrapping around you.

You sniffled and pressed your face in the crook of his neck, fighting off the incoming tears.

Gabriel frowned, and began ro rub your back. "Hey... what happened Sugarplum?" He asks, wanting desperately to find out what made you cry, and smite it out of existence.

You sniffled again, and tightened a grip onto his shirt and jacket, not letting go of him. "I...I had a nightmare about you. I had to make sure you were okay..." you admitted through your quivering voice.

Gabriel sighed, squeezing you tighter against him. He kissed the top of your head, and just held you. He lifted you into his arms and carried you to bed, laying you down on the mattress before he climbed in beside you.

"Sugar...whatever it was, its not real. I promise. Im right here, aren't I?" Gabriel asked. You nodded, looking up at your boyfriend, staring into his whiskey colored eyes. He smiled in response. "Then you have no reason to fret. Cause Doctor Sexy is here to make it all better." He teases, booping your nose.

You let out a soft giggle, scrunching up your nose at the contact. Gabriel smiled at you, and looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow as he saw his shirt on you.

"Is that... my shirt?" He asks, laughing a bit at the tail end. You blushed a bit and wrapped your arms around yourself, pouting a bit.

"So what if it is?" You protested. Gabriel let out another laugh at that. His arms tightened around you, kissing your forehead again.

"All the more proof that you're mine." He says, smirking slyly as he held you close. You leaned your head against his chest, humming softly as you heard the soft thumping of his vessel's heart.

"I promise... I'll always be here Sugar. Even when I'm not." He assures, pressing his hand against the side of your head to encourage you to lay against him.

You smiled softly to yourself, and then closed your eyes again. This time, you knew the nightmares would come, but you'd have your archangel there to chase them away.

#supernatural #gabriel #spn fanfiction #gabriel x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #loki #gabriel x reader supernatural

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