#cause like dean wouldn't get it!

[serendipity0930]

nono dw I'm so normal about post-trials chronic illness sam ! sooo normal like. I have a regular amount of thoughts about sam's body post-trials

[shallowseeker]

What drew them to each other is that they were both willing to do reprehensible things.

Whether it's to save their own skins, to save their families, to carry out a plan... They're naturally fucked up in the same pragmatic way.

But they can BE their full, "flawed, petty evil creatures" in full light of the other.

///

///

DUNDUNDUN SAM WAS JUST WAITING FOR HER TO TURN AWAY WHAT A BASTARD

///

She should've gotten to KILL him at least once, I think. Just to further make their bond weirder.

///

"Don't struggle," she says.

///

ALSO.

I like to watch the unraveling futility of their ambitions. Rowena, Crowley, and Sam were all united by wanting status and ambition to help them escape "a rigged game."

"And it took everything from me, everyone I love-- my family."

///

///

BOOM. There it is.

See, Rowena sees the lengths Sam will go, and she actually RESPECTS it.

Their relationship is built on the comfort of understanding WHY they're willing to gut each other AND each other's loved ones. Strong feelings that they try to dissociate themselves from.

They use their smarts and ruthlessness to protect themselves and their loved ones at all costs.

And they both want to change.

"You were never gonna kill him. There was a time you would've. But not now."

///

There is such an--an OPENNESS about the bad things they've done, and Sam needs that in his life.

///

And in season 15, Rowena knows that Sam wouldn't have been able to kill her at the end there... not unless she guided his hand and helped him.

[simplenefelibata]

ENOUGH with the 'jack forgiving dean in an instant' trope! ENOUGH!

i know he's a pookie and too good and incapable of doing evil ever in his life, but that doesn't mean he isn't allowed resentment or anger. i want to see him angry, i want to see jack raging like a teen because cas is gone again and the last words he ever heard of him were "i'll go with you, dean", so where's he now? where's he? where's his DAD? dean was supposed to protect him and now cas is gone and although they destroyed chuck, he's alone because even that isn't good enough to gain dean's love. because he's not family. because he put a gun in his head.

it doesn't have to be apocalyptic anger, too. actually, i think it'd be like when you're sixteen and you can't stand your mom/dad and they talk to you and you just — ignore them, look at them with such hatred they yell at you, roll your eyes, or respond with bitter cutting words.

i mean...

“Eat. You haven't eaten in days, barely sleeping too, and I remember you enjoyed eating—”

“Yeah, like you cared so much before about what I enjoyed.”

[underthebednotebook]

Pre-series Dean likes to brush Sam's teeth probably.

He likes to hold Sam's chin and tilt him down telling him that he is making sure that he doesn't get any cavities because they are uninsured and can't really stop at a dentist like normal people would.

So he just gets Sam's toothbrush up in there, with Sam struggling and telling him to 'fuck off Dean I'll do it myself', starting with the bottom teeth and moving upward, taking his sweet time in watching the toothpaste mixed with drool run down the side of Sam's mouth and onto his fingers.

He finally lets go when Sam struggles enough to grab the toothbrush from him and do the job himself, finishing the job in a sloppy fashion (Dean would have done a much better job) and telling Dean that he needs to keep his hands to himself more often and that his teeth were fine but Dean isn't really listening he's just rubbing Sam's spit between his fingers as if it could dissolve into his skin faster.

Yadda yadda Dean keeps Sam's toothbrush, yadda yadda, Sam approaches Dean the next few nights with his toothbrush and a 'you do it better' excuse that leads to them most likely making out and then denying it happened in the first place.

[shanastoryteller]

i know supernatural is the show of missed opportunities but man. the trials really get to me - what a perfect way to reboot and reset this show that you're artificially extending for ratings. it could have been really, really good, actually

so the trials of god is a way for someone to gain the ability to seal the gates of hell and the gates of heaven

they have the translation for hell, they know that slamming the gates of hell shut means calling all the demons back home and locking the key. it's logical, then, to for them to believe the same is true of the one for heaven - that it calls all the angels back home and locks them away where they can't do any more damage

peace, for the people of earth, outside of the influence of angels and demons. that's got to be worth it, right?

so while sam is completing the hell trials, they get the angel tablet, kevin gets translating, to figure out the angel trials. or maybe metatron helps nudge them along to figuring it out, since him being the big bad here isn't really relevant and they are in a bit of time crunch

canon doesn't tell us what the heaven trials are, except that the first one involves a ritual using the heart of a nephilim. they make it sound like they're carving it from their chest, but what i would do is

have a nephilim offer you their heart from their chest (gain their loyalty in a binding ceremony)

create grace from freshwater (there is no rain that falls anywhere on earth that is safe to drink and god said let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters)

find a human soul to guide you to heaven (babel fell but the stairway was built and those with wings have no need of stairs)

so sam is in the midst of the hell trials when dean sort of accidentally on purpose completes the first heaven trial and then the brothers are on parallel train tracks heading in the opposite direction

sam works to close the gates of hell

dean works to close the gates of heaven

demons and angels both working to stop them

sam completes the trials. he restores crowley's humanity and he dies and the gates of hell are closed

but that's not the end

metatron says they can close the gates if they're willing to pay the price. canon says the price is sam's death, but frankly that doesn't make any sense. what's the death of one human against the horrors of hell? and remember, metatron doesn't know the winchesters. maybe another angel would make this comment, knowing how the winchesters have weighed the safety of the world against their brother and left the world out to dry, would think this a price worth warning for. but metatron wouldn't bother, wouldn't even think of it, if that was the only price

the gates of hell close and malevolent spirits explode across the globe, evil spirits and angry ghosts causing death and destruction everywhere

hell serves a function and now the gates are closed and every evil human soul is forced to stay on earth, causing as much destruction as it can

that's the price for closing the gates of hell

except. except. aren't the hell trials interesting?

kill a hellhound. rescue an innocent soul and return it to heaven. purify a demon and restore their humanity.

the trials are not to prove if someone is worthy of closing the gates of hell. it's to prove they're capable of setting hell to rights

the trials are if things got too out of hand, if things were taken too far, and hell had to be put back in it's place. sam dies and ends up exactly where azazel wanted him - ruler of hell. all the demons and souls are trapped with him and what he has to do, while he has them all there, while they can't escape, is exactly what he did to get there

he kills the hellhounds, leaving only those meant to patrol hell. he releases every innocent soul bound there. he purifies the demons one by one, who he either releases as innocent souls or who to pledge to do their job as demons of hell - punishing evil, containing evil - in penance for what they did before (how do i even begin to make up for what i've done, crowley had asked, and this is the answer)

meanwhile, dean, heartbroken, completes the heaven trials and dies

and the gates of heaven slam shut and all the angels are stripped of their grace and expelled from heaven and dean finds himself in charge of an empty heaven

the trials are for when things have gone too far and heaven must be rebuilt, after all

good souls pile up, no one who dies able to truly leave earth, and given enough time they become twisted things that must be hunted along with the spirits of evil men and women who cause chaos from their last breath

dean has work to do. he has one angel - the nephilim whose loyalty he earned in the first trial - and this is what he has to do. he recruits more, to replace the ranks, he creates grace and hands it out judiciously. he sends them to guide the good souls home, using the stairway that the former angels wouldn't be able to use even if they wanted to, and each good act and deed earns them a little more grace. former angels throw themselves into the fight for humans, because they know it's the only way that dean will return their grace to them and lift them back into heaven

and in fighting for them, in living like them, they learn to love these creations of their father that they'd despised. they see what he saw and the thought of destroying this place in a civil war becomes unthinkable to them. they are once more the angels god intended them to be

in this, dean and sam fulfill their destiny as lucifer and michael's vessels. not in letting them in, but in pushing them out, in doing the work each was intended for but refused

only when there is only evil human souls being punished and caged, only once the demons are once more working to run hell and earn their release to heaven, does sam reopen the gates of hell

only when there's a full choir of angels once more, committed to their cause, only once there are souls working with reapers as it once always was, does dean reopen the gates of heaven

they're called the god trials for a reason. above and below, sam and dean act as god, putting things back in their intended places

they could stay. they should stay. keeping house, making sure it all goes smoothly, eternally keeping earth safe from angels and demons both

they're called the god trials for a reason. not even god could resist the paradise inbetween that he'd created

dean doesn't know if sam is going to return to earth. he might stay in hell, and if dean becomes human once more, then what's the point? he'll live and die a human, get stuck in heaven, and be forever separated from the brother he loves

sam doesn't know if dean is going to return to earth. he migh not be able to, might be stuck doing his work - sam assumes if the hell trials did this to him, then the heaven trials did the same to dean, and the idea that dean could have failed the heaven trials after he dies doesn't even cross mind. if he returns and dean's not there then he loses it all, he never again gets to see the brother he loves

but when, exactly, haven't they been willing to risk everything for each other?

dean falls as lucifer fell, throwing himself towards earth

sam rises as michael did after the fall, pulling himself towards earth the same way michael once pulled himself to the top of heaven

what's the use of being a god without his brother, after all?

dean and sam are reunited on earth, human once more

no more angels, no more demons, heaven and hell functioning once more as they should. we're back to basics, a clean slate, all of the rest remade and set aside by their own hands (it's literal and a metaphor, the way the show could have remade itself with the trials, after setting aside kripke's plan while at the same time recognizing that the design of it - two brothers who love each other going across america and fighting evil - is the thing that made it worth watching to begin with) and now it's them again, brothers forged in blood and sacrifice and love, and a new appreciation for the humanity they gave up and returned to

and then we get my beloved monster of the week with no stupid too high stakes, convoluted bullshit involved, beyond the occasional angel who dean refused to reinstate and demon tracking down miscreant souls and, every once in a while, a person or creature or something in between squinting at them and going - weren't you two gods?

nah, they say, all corn fed grins and the dimples their momma gave them, we're brothers

[fatecantstopme]

Help Me Remember

Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: Your memories have been taken from you and it's up to Dean to get them back.

Warnings: Angsty af, memory loss, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), light face fucking, unprotected sex (P in V), biting (minimal), dirty talk.

Three Weeks Ago

"God almighty, what is that smell?"

You were doing your best to avoid inhaling too deeply--the stench uncomfortably strong. "Rotting flesh."

"Dead body?" Dean asked.

You nodded. "Several, I think."

"Great." Dean stepped in front of you, the instinct to protect you always foremost in his mind. He stepped through the open doorway, quickly enveloped by darkness.

You heard him grunt lowly and you stepped forward, trying to see through the darkness, but even your flashlight didn't penetrate it much. "Dean?"

When he didn't respond, you felt a tightening in your chest. "Dean?" you called again, a little louder.

The silence was deafening--sending cold chills down your back as you stepped farther into the room. "Babe? Answer me."

You took another step forward and your foot collided with something sturdy on the floor in front of you. You trained your flashlight downwards and inhaled sharply as the light illuminated a body at your feet. "Dean!"

You dropped to your knees beside him to check for a pulse, foolishly opening yourself up to attack in such a vulnerable moment.

The last sound you heard was a dark cackle coming from your right just before you were plunged into complete darkness.

Dean awoke with a low groan, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. It took him several moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. As soon as the memories clicked in his mind, he called out your name. You didn't respond and he felt a cold desperation wrap around his heart.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled as he pulled himself off the floor. "Sweetheart? Where are you?"

He was met with complete silence, making his blood run cold. He couldn't find the flashlight he'd been carrying, so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness around him.

He immediately noticed the stench from earlier had dissipated, as had the total darkness that surrounded him in the moments before he'd lost consciousness. His flashlight had barely cut through the blackness, but his phone was able to light up the majority of the room around him with relative ease.

The room was completely empty. Not a single rotting corpse to be seen. No cause for the smell from earlier, nor any sign of what had caused the room to be plunged into complete darkness. More importantly, there was no sign of you.

Dean immediately ran from the room, hurriedly searching the rest of the abandoned home in the hopes of finding you passed out like he had been. When he'd searched every room to no avail, his panic had risen to untenable levels.

He called your phone, but it immediately went to voicemail. He left a frantic message before hanging up and calling Sam.

His brother answered on the second ring. "Dean? Everything okay?"

"Is (Y/N) with you?"

Sam could hear the panic in Dean's voice, causing his heart to race. "No...she was with you on that hunt in Colorado."

"I can't find her anywhere."

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I mean, I got knocked out and when I woke up she was gone. I've searched the whole damn house--she's gone, Sam!"

"Okay, breathe. She wouldn't leave you, so she's gotta be there somewhere."

"Well something knocked me out, Sam--and whatever the hell it was had to have taken (Y/N/N)."

"That doesn't make sense, Dean. You said it was a ghost--a basic haunting."

"Yeah that's what we thought it was! Clearly we were wrong."

"Alright, alright," Sam said in a soothing voice. "I'll pack a bag and head your way--we'll find her."

Dean let out a pained sound. "Hurry."

"I will."

**********

Present

You groaned in annoyance, rolling over in bed to slam your hand on the snooze of your alarm. When the incessant noise stopped, you sighed quietly, staring at the ceiling as light filtered in through the window.

You wanted to get out of bed and go to work about as much as you wanted to get hit by a car, but unfortunately the bills wouldn't pay themselves.

You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for work. Thirty minutes later, you were grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

When you reached the office, you sat in your car for a few minutes, gathering whatever strength you had to get out of your car and walk through those doors. You hated your job--this office life was simply not for you. It was boring, but the paycheck was decent and you didn't have any other options.

You'd only had the job for a few weeks--it would be embarrassing to quit so soon after starting. Besides, the work was easy and your coworkers were nice enough.

You sighed quietly before getting out of the car and heading into the office building. You were greeted by several of your coworkers and you said your good mornings as you made your way to your office.

The day passed by uneventfully, just as every single day of the past few weeks seemed to. When 5pm rolled around, you packed up your things and left for the day. You decided to stop and get Chinese food on your way home--the urge to cook about as far away as the country of China was.

After picking up dinner, you made your way home. As you pulled into your driveway, you noticed an old black muscle car parked in front of your neighbor's house. You thought it odd given your neighbor was out of town, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as your stomach grumbled hungrily.

You grabbed your things and headed inside, dropping your keys and purse by the front door. You tugged your shoes off, silently cursing whoever created high heels. You sat your food on the kitchen island and went to the fridge to grab a beer.

You plopped down at the island, quickly pulling the containers of delicious food from the bag. You groaned happily as you took a bite of food--finally sating the grumbling of your stomach.

Mid-bite, you heard a noise upstairs, causing you to freeze. You listened closely, almost certain there was someone in your house. You grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and made your way slowly towards the stairs.

You went up them as quietly as you could, stopping on the landing to listen for more noises. You heard movement at the end of the hall, where your office was. You made your way toward the room, holding the knife in front of you.

When you rounded the corner, you saw a man standing in your office, looking through your desk. You steeled yourself before stepping fully into the room, yelling "hey!" as you entered.

The man looked up at you and froze, eyes flicking between your face and the knife in your hand. "Woah, easy there, sweetheart."

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

The man looked slightly confused. "It's me, (Y/N)."

"How the hell do you know my name?"

The man started to come around to the front of your desk and you stepped towards him, brandishing the knife in what you hoped was a menacing manner. The man was significantly larger than you, but you didn't feel the fear you expected to feel. You felt oddly certain you could hold your own against him in a fight--which made zero sense to you. You'd never been in a fight in your life.

"Easy, (Y/N). Just put the knife down and we can talk."

"You broke into my house, asshole. No way am I putting down this knife."

His hands were still up in the air, but he didn't seem any more afraid of you than you were of him. "Okay, sweetheart, just relax. I can explain."

"Stop calling me that--I don't know you."

The man looked hurt by your words, but he seemed to shrug them off. "Sorry, sweet--shit. Sorry." He slowly lowered his hands, waiting for you to make a move. When you didn't, he lowered them completely. "My name is Dean Winchester."

He waited for a moment, hoping to see a flash of recognition on your face--but your expression remained blank. It was like a stab to the heart, but he continued. "Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You're 33 years old. Your parents' names are Lily and Carter. You were born in New Mexico, but you spent most of your formative years in London. You came back to the U.S. after the death of your parents when you were 19. We met a couple years later on a hunt in Arkansas. We've been inseparable ever since."

The hand holding the knife was shaking almost uncontrollably. There was no way he could know any of those things--you didn't talk about your parents or your childhood with anyone. Hell, you barely mentioned the existence of a personal life.

"How do you know all of that? I don't talk about my family with anyone."

"You did with me."

"But I don't know you--I've never seen you before in my life."

"Yes you have...you just don't remember."

"Excuse me?"

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Three weeks ago, you and I were on a hunt in Colorado. It seemed like a routine hunt...but something went wrong. I was knocked unconscious and you disappeared. I've spent the last three weeks searching for you."

"I've never been hunting a day in my life."

"Look, I know it's confusing and I understand why you don't believe me, but I swear to you, it's the truth."

Much to your surprise, every instinct in your body seemed to believe him...to believe this man you'd never seen before, to trust the man who'd broken into your home, to believe the insane story he was telling you.

You slowly lowered the knife and exhaled shakily. "I don't understand what's going on, but my gut instinct is to trust you."

Dean exhaled gratefully. "You can trust me."

"If you're fucking with me--" you raised the knife for emphasis, "I swear I will beat the shit out of you."

Dean laughed softly. "I'd expect nothing less."

You shot him an odd look and shook your head. "You hungry? I have Chinese food downstairs."

"Sure. I could eat."

You nodded towards the door. "You first sunshine."

He walked ahead of you, making his way down to the kitchen with you in tow. He sat down at the island and you sat across from him, setting the knife on the counter beside you.

"Want a beer?" you asked.

"Absolutely."

You pointed at the fridge. "Help yourself."

Once he had his beverage, he sat back down, eyes watching you intently. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, so you called him out on it.

"It's just...hard to see you like this."

"I'm sure it is. It's uncomfortable for me too."

He winced. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I've just really missed you."

You finally took a moment to really take in his features. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen, but what really drew you in were his eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of green, but it was the warmth in them that made you feel comfortable. It was clear to you this Dean Winchester guy cared about you, even if you had zero clue as to why.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he answered.

"What am I to you?"

Dean inhaled sharply and his gaze drifted to the countertop in front of him. It was clear he wasn't sure how to answer that question--or if he should answer it. "I'm...I'm not sure I should answer that."

"I'm a big girl, Dean. Just tell me."

He looked back up at you, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't answer your question. "What do you remember of your life?"

"What?"

"Just tell me what you remember."

"Everything you said about my life was true. My name, my childhood, my parents...their deaths. I remember all of that. I remember moving back to the U.S....but I don't remember meeting you and I certainly don't remember hunting."

"So what have you been doing for the past 14 years?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories infinitely more clear than the ones from your childhood. "I went to college and got a degree in marketing. Dated off and on, but no one had long-term potential. I had a few shitty jobs before finally landing the one at my current firm. I've been there a couple weeks, but I've got a corner office, a good paycheck, and decent coworkers."

"And do you like it? Marketing?"

You paused, considering your options before deciding to answer honestly. "It's boring, in all honesty, but it pays the bills."

"Do you ever think maybe you're meant for something more?"

You stared at him in surprise. You didn't know how he could possibly know that...you'd never shared that particular thought with anyone. You'd always felt that way--for as long as you could remember. "Yes," you whispered. "How did you know that?"

Dean smiled at you. "Because you are meant for more, (Y/N/N). You've spent the last 14 years doing more--you've saved countless lives. Hell, you've helped save the entire planet more than once."

You laughed loudly, thinking he must be joking. When you noticed his expression was completely serious, your laughter died instantly. "You--you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

You scoffed. "No offense, Dean, but I've never saved anyone--let alone the entire planet. I think that's something I would remember."

He gave you a sad smile, pain lacing his gorgeous features. "There's so much you don't remember, (Y/N/N)."

The pain on his face matched the tone of his voice--and it sent a piercing pain into your heart. A pain you couldn't possibly begin to understand. "What else don't I remember?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't think you're ready for all of that, sweetheart."

This time, you didn't correct him. The pet name made your chest ache--and you had a feeling this was a common term of endearment from him. It made you want to understand the nature of your relationship. "Then just tell me one thing. What am I to you?"

Dean exhaled slowly, brilliant green eyes fluttering closed. He was desperately trying to remain objective, but it was nearly impossible. He felt like he owed you in some way and he knew he couldn't lie. His eyes met yours once again and you were stunned by the depths of emotion swimming in those green orbs.

"I feel like I owe you the truth, but I don't want you to freak out. So just...please just let me talk before you respond."

You nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Like I said before, we met a few years after you came back to the states. About 11 years ago, to be exact. I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday. You were so beautiful--almost painfully so. I felt drawn to you immediately, but you wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose it only made me want you more." He chuckled fondly at the memory. "You were pure fire back then. No one could control you, not that I'd ever dare to try. I think I fell in love almost immediately. You were everything I'd ever wanted, but I uh--I had a bit of a reputation in the community. A not-so-nice reputation when it came to the ladies...and unfortunately for me, you were well-aware of it."

Dean shook his head sadly. "I still don't know why, but you decided to stay with me and Sam--my brother. The three of us hunted together and sometime during the year that followed, I managed to win you over. You were crazy enough to fall in love with me--and we've been together ever since." He paused. "So to answer your question, (Y/N), you're the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my confidante, my whole world. You're the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with and I'll be damned if I don't make good on that promise."

You sat in stunned silence, unsure how to feel about his revelation. One thing was for sure, you knew he was being honest. Every fiber of your being told you he loved you--every instinct you had screamed that he meant every word he said. It nearly broke your heart to have no memory of the feelings he was referring to...you couldn't reciprocate his words. As far as you were concerned, he was a stranger to you. You had no idea how to respond--nothing you could have said would have comforted him.

After several moments of silence, you finally looked up at Dean, meeting his teary gaze. "I believe you," you whispered.

Surprise lit up the handsome man's face. He hadn't been sure how you'd respond, but he hadn't thought you'd believe a word he said. "I meant every word, (Y/N/N)."

"I'm sorry I don't remember," you murmured sadly.

He offered you a small smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna find a way to get your memories back--to get our lives back."

"How?"

"If you're okay with it, we'll go see a friend of mine. She might be able to help."

You might be crazy for being willing to go with this strange man...but your gut told you there was no other choice. You hated the life you lived and if there was even a chance the life Dean was describing was real, you had to take it. "I'm in."

Dean smiled warmly. "That's my girl."

**********

Dean didn't explain who exactly you were going to see, but he did tell you it was quite a distance away. As such, you'd have to stop in a motel along the way.

Dean kept the conversations in the car away from the life--from hunting. He wasn't ready to explain all of that yet, especially if there was even the slightest chance you would run away screaming. He needed you to trust him and mentioning monsters wasn't likely to keep things calm.

It was late at night when he finally pulled off into a roadside motel. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll do for a night," Dean commented.

You offered him a smile and followed him into the dingy room. You tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door and Dean immediately picked it up and moved it to the other bed. "No way in hell are you sleeping by the door, sweetheart."

You looked a little surprised, but simply shrugged your agreement.

Dean winced. "Sorry--I just worry about your safety, that's all."

You smiled. "It's alright. I get it."

He tossed his bag on the bed and sat down to take off his boots. "You can get the first shower."

"Alright, thanks." You grabbed your stuff and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Dean made a call to Sam as soon as the door to the bathroom was closed. He'd already called his brother and informed him that he'd found you and told him where you were headed. Sam was already on his way to you, speeding along the highway in your direction.

"Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's in the shower right now. Where you at?"

"Probably an hour out now. What motel did you stop at?"

Dean gave him the location and room number. "Call me when you get here and I'll let you in."

"Have you told her I'm coming yet?"

"I mentioned you earlier...but I'm trying to keep her as calm as possible. I don't want her to freak out."

Sam sighed. "Alright, but you might wanna mention it before I get there."

"Yeah, yeah. I will. See you soon."

20 minutes after the call ended, you came out of the bathroom, feeling reasonably clean. You'd spent more time in the shower than you'd needed to, if only to try and calm your racing mind. A lot had happened in the last five hours and you were mentally and emotionally exhausted.

When you came out of the bathroom, you collapsed on the musty-smelling bed and sighed.

"I know it's not a great place, but maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired."

"Very."

Dean smiled sadly. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick, okay?"

You nodded and rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard bed.

Dean eyed you warily before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep with shocking ease. Mental exhaustion was clearly a great cure for insomnia.

When Dean came out of the shower, he fully expected you to still be awake. He wanted to let you know Sam was on the way so you wouldn't be freaked out by his arrival. Unfortunately, you were clearly sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you. You looked too peaceful to disturb.

**********

You awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, bladder throbbing uncomfortably. You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, failing to notice the large figure lying on the couch near the bathroom door.

Your movement woke Sam up and he decided he needed to use the bathroom too. He stood up and stretched, waiting for you to come back out.

When you came out of the bathroom, you caught sight of a large male figure standing near the door. You quickly assessed him and realized it wasn't Dean--the man was too tall. Without thinking, you lunged towards him, fist connecting with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.

He fell back into the small dining table, forcing it against the wall with a loud noise. The commotion was enough to wake up Dean, who shot out of bed ready to fight. It took him only a moment to realize what had happened.

You lunged towards Sam again, who held up his hands to block your attack. Dean jumped towards you and yelled your name, pulling you to a stop.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Dean insisted. "It's just Sam!"

You were breathing heavily, but you lowered your fists. "Who the hell is Sam?"

"My brother!"

Your mind cleared slightly as you remembered Dean mentioning Sam's name earlier in the evening. "Oh shit," you muttered.

Dean turned on the light and Sam rubbed his jaw woefully. "Nice swing, (Y/N/N).

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I didn't mean to--I just reacted."

"Well it was a good shot either way," Sam said with a pained chuckle.

Dean laughed softly. "At least your instincts are still strong."

You winced a smile. "Let me go get some ice."

Dean stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "I'll go get it. Stay inside."

You could tell he was worried about your safety and it made you wonder what he wasn't telling you.

Sam sat down at the table and continued to rub his jaw. "It really is good to see you, (Y/N). Despite the punch."

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know you would be here."

"I figured that out," he said with a light chuckle. "Don't worry about it. It was a solid punch."

Dean came back in with a full ice bucket. He handed the bucket to Sam and chuckled. "Damn dude, she got you good."

You winced, feeling terrible for hurting him.

Dean noticed your discomfort and turned to you with a gentle smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. He's had a hell of a lot worse. He'll be fine."

Sam nodded his agreement. "He's not wrong. I'm alright."

You punched Dean in the arm in annoyance.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You could have told me he was coming!"

"You were asleep! I didn't wanna wake you."

You sighed. "Alright fine, but quit keeping things from me, Dean."

He nodded, rubbing his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"I'm going back to sleep. Let me know when it's time to go."

The brothers watched you crawl back into bed and Dean let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm too awake to sleep now."

"Same," Sam muttered.

The two sat at the table in silence, allowing you to get a couple more hours of sleep before it was time to head back out on the road.

**********

"So who exactly are we going to see?" you asked curiously.

Sam shot his brother a look from the backseat of the car. Dean glared at him in the rearview mirror and the younger man stayed silent.

"A friend of ours from when we were kids," Dean answered. "Her name is Missouri."

"Missouri...hmm. Do I know her?"

Dean nodded.

"How can she help me?"

"She's uh...well she's really..."

"Perceptive," Sam finished for him.

"Yeah, perceptive."

You gave Dean an odd look. "Okay then."

"Just...trust me, okay? She's the best there is. She can help."

Two words remained unsaid, living only deep in Dean's heart. I hope.

When the car pulled up in front of the house, Missouri immediately knew who it was. She met the three of you at the front door, a smile on her face.

"What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from all three Winchesters?"

Dean froze for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Missouri. Nor did you miss her use of the words "three Winchesters".

You shot Dean a silent reproachful look and Missouri tsked loudly. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything, Missouri. I swear."

Missouri's gaze landed on your face, her expression softening instantly. "Oh honey..."

Her expression frightened you, as did her extremely perceptive gaze. It felt as though she was looking directly through you.

"Well come in you three. It's cold out here."

The three of you followed the older woman into her home. She gestured for you all to sit in the living room while she went to the kitchen to make some tea.

"Why did she call me a Winchester?" you asked Dean in hushed tones.

Sam gave his brother an 'I told you so' look and waited for his response.

Dean sighed. "I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," he admitted. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was your name, until six years ago."

"What happened six years ago?" You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it.

"We got married," he answered softly. "You decided to change your name...and you've been (Y/N) Winchester ever since."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to freak you out. I'd already unloaded a lot of information on you. It's hard to look your wife in the eyes and realize she doesn't remember you--it's even harder to tell her what she means to you."

"But you told me how much you loved me...why couldn't you admit we're married?"

Dean shook his head. "I really don't know, sweetheart. I think I was scared you would run. It had been so hard to find you and I didn't want to risk losing you again."

Tears welled in your eyes and you placed a soft, comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."

He looked up at you, expression matching your own. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, though he desperately wanted to kiss your lips instead.

"Tea, everyone," Missouri stated as she entered the living room.

You immediately took the cup she offered you gratefully. "Thank you."

She nodded at you, giving you a warm smile. "Now I know you boys don't like tea, but there's no alcohol in this house."

"I'll take a cup, Missouri," Sam said.

She handed him a cup and gave Dean a stern look. You had a feeling the expression had nothing to do with his not liking tea.

"Now why don't you boys tell me what brings you all the way out here."

Dean sighed. "You mean you don't already know?"

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"Oh I imagine it has something to do with (Y/N)'s memories, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Surprise lit up your face. "How did you--?"

"I see your husband left a few things out, didn't he? Do you want to share, Dean?"

Dean winced and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well--umm...Missouri is--well, she's psychic."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

"Psychic," Dean repeated.

You turned to look at Sam and he simply nodded. Your gaze shifted back to Missouri who gave you another sad smile.

"It's true, honey. That's why I know about your missing memories. I can see the block in your mind...and the fake memories replacing your real ones."

"Fake memories? What do you mean fake memories?"

"How did your parents die?" Missouri asked seemingly from nowhere.

"A car accident," you answered in confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean and Sam exchange glances. Missouri sighed quietly and shook her head.

You tried to catch Dean's gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, suddenly fascinated with the pattern of the rug.

"Are you saying my parents didn't die in a car accident?"

"No, dear. They did not," Missouri answered.

"But I remember--" you fell silent as Missouri's words came back to you...'fake memories'. You shook your head. "I don't understand."

Missouri gave you a pitying look. "When you were 19 years old, your parents were murdered by something inhuman. A creature known as a ghoul. The ghoul appeared to you as your mother after it had killed her in an attempt to kill you, but you realized it wasn't your mother. You grabbed a wooden candlestick off the mantle and bashed the creature's head in, managing to kill it without even knowing what it was."

You were frozen in your seat, caught somewhere between disbelief and utter terror. You pushed the terror down, allowing the disbelief to prevail. You jumped out of your seat and yelled, "You people are crazy! Ghouls don't exist!"

Dean stood up and grabbed your arm to keep you from running. "Ghouls are very real, (Y/N). That experience changed your life forever. From that moment on, you knew the things that go bump in the night were real...that they murdered innocent people all over the world. It's why you came back here...to find answers and learn how to hunt them."

You shook your head vehemently. "No, no, that's not possible. They died in a car accident!"

Dean turned you to face him completely. "We met on a vampire hunt in Arkansas. Sam and I had identified the case and we ran into you early on in the hunt. You more than proved your abilities during that case and I asked you to come hunt with us. I didn't want you to keep going alone--it was too risky."

"What are you talking about?" you cried. "Vampires aren't real! None of this is real...it can't be real." Your knees turned to jelly and you would have fallen to the floor if Dean hadn't been holding onto you. He pulled you into him and you sobbed into his chest, finally allowing your tumultuous emotions out.

Dean held you tightly, tears of his own threatening to fall. He didn't know how to make you believe any of this--it sounded insane to him and he'd been raised in the life. He had a hard enough time convincing people who had literally seen a monster that they were real--this was so much worse. You couldn't remember all the monsters you'd killed in your life, so why would you ever believe a word any of them said?

"We might seem crazy, (Y/N), but I think if you allow yourself to believe it for even a moment, you may find it's not as crazy as it sounds," Missouri said gently.

You sniffled softly and turned to look into her eyes. You were still wrapped in Dean's arms--it made you feel incredibly safe, despite the situation. You focused on that feeling and tried to relax your breathing. Every single part of you was certain Dean would die to protect you...if that was true, then the love he had for you was real too. If his love was real, then so was your relationship--your marriage. If all of this was true, then maybe what he was telling you was true...maybe monsters really were real.

Missouri saw the moment you began to believe them--your eyes showed your emotions, but it was your mind that gave you away. She could sense your belief, just as she could sense the false memories swirling around in your mind.

"A witch," she said softly.

Dean's entire body went rigid. "What?"

"The missing memories and the replacements...it's the work of a witch. An extremely powerful one at that."

"Are you sure?" Dean whispered.

Missouri shot him a glare that told him exactly how certain she was.

"A witch?" you questioned softly, pulling away from Dean to look at his face.

"My least favorite type of monster."

"Witches are monsters?" you asked.

"Most of them," he responded.

"This kind of magic is dark," Missouri muttered. "Messing with someone's memories...it's very dangerous magic. The skill needed to not only block out the real memories but replace them indicates this is a very old witch. This type of magic isn't common these days."

"Demons?" Sam asked.

Missouri shook her head. "Older."

"Demons?" you squeaked out. "Demons are real too?"

Dean rubbed your arms comfortingly. "Yeah, sweetheart, but we don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "How do I know what memories are real and which ones aren't?"

Missouri stood up and took your hands, forcing Dean to release you. She looked into your eyes, gaze extremely focused. After several moments she spoke. "Your childhood is intact up until your parents' deaths. Everything else up until three weeks ago is a false memory."

"Fourteen years?" you gasped. "Fourteen years of my life is a lie?"

Dean could see you start to spiral, instinctively reaching for you to try to ground you. "Baby, baby, hey--hey...focus on me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay."

Your eyes met his and your breathing began to slow once again. His warm gaze brought you back to earth, calming you in a way only he could. You felt calm--you felt safe. "Thank you," you whispered.

He pulled you into him for a tight a hug, placing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

Both Sam and Missouri felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Missouri gestured for Sam to follow her out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.

You looked up at him. "I think so. It's--it's a lot to take in."

"I know, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but everything we've told you is true."

"What happened three weeks ago, Dean?"

"What I told you before was true, but I left out a few details. We were on a hunt...a routine haunting. At least that's what we thought it was. When we got there, it was dark inside and it smelled like rotting corpses. It was strange, but not exactly out of the ordinary for a haunting. I went into a room ahead of you and I was knocked unconscious by something--I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up, you were gone."

"Could a--a witch do that?"

Dean nodded. "Easily. Especially if they're as powerful as Missouri thinks they are."

"So what do we do?"

"We find a way to restore your memories...then we hunt this witch down and find out why they targeted you."

"What if we can't?"

"Oh we'll find the witch. Don't worry."

You shook your head. "What if we can't get my memories back?"

Dean's expression betrayed his fear, if only for a second. "There has to be a way. There has to."

"There is," Missouri stated as she reentered the room with Sam in tow. "But it won't be pleasant."

"Can you do it?" Dean asked.

"I'm a psychic, Dean, not a witch."

Dean looked crestfallen.

"But I know someone who can help."

Dean looked back up. "Who?"

"Her name is Bethelia Logan. She's a very old, very powerful witch."

"Absolutely not!" Dean yelled instantly. "I'm not taking (Y/N) to a witch."

"Don't yell at me, child. Do you want her memories back or not?"

Dean started to argue again, but you placed a gentle hand to his chest, silencing him. "Do you trust her?"

Missouri nodded. "I would never send you to someone I didn't trust." She pointed at Dean. "You should know that."

Dean looked down in shame. He hated witches--hated them with everything in his soul. His hatred existed long before this moment...but now that he knew a witch had stolen your memories? He'd kill every witch on earth if he could.

"Where can we find this Bethelia Logan?" Sam asked.

"She lives in the mountains of Montana. Partially for the nature and partially for the privacy. She's not particularly friendly to strangers, but if you tell her I sent you, she'll help you."

"Are you sure she'll help us?" Dean asked.

"I'll send her a message. She'll help."

Dean looked down at you, wanting the decision to be yours and yours alone.

"You have her address?" you asked, a resigned smile on your face.

Missouri gave Dean the address and wished him luck. She said her goodbyes to the boys before sending them out the door. She stopped you before you could leave, wanting to say something in private.

"You are a strong woman, (Y/N). I have always thought that. You will need all your strength to get through this, if you choose to go through with it."

"What do you mean, 'if'?"

"The magic used to take your memories was very powerful black magic...and it will take very powerful black magic to reverse it. Such magic is dangerous for the user and for the person it is used on."

Realization dawned on your face. "Will I survive it?"

Missouri's expression softened, sadness darkening her gaze. "I don't know, honey, but it will likely be the most painful experience of your life. Which is why it must be your choice to go through with it. Yours, (Y/N)--yours alone."

You looked towards the Impala where Dean and Sam waited for you. You turned back to look at Missouri, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "Thank you for telling me."

"I love those boys like family, just as I love you, but Dean isn't like a normal man. He loves more deeply than anyone I have ever known--there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Don't tell him what I've told you, (Y/N). He won't let you make this choice on your own if you do...not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to lose you."

Tears filled your eyes as you regarded the older woman. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know how much he loves me. I know what he would do for me. I need to remember why--desperately."

Missouri sighed quietly. "You've always loved that boy more than he believes he deserves, but in truth, he deserves all of your love. I've never met two people more perfect for one another--even if you never remember your lives together, I know you will love him that much again."

You nodded, allowing her words to wash over you. You knew in your heart she was right--you could see yourself falling in love with him, so it didn't surprise you that she believed it too. "Thank you, Missouri. For everything."

"You are so welcome, (Y/N) Winchester. Now go--and be safe."

You gave her a tight hug before walking away to join your husband and his brother on what would turn out to be the most harrowing journey of your life.

**********

It was a 16 hour drive from Missouri's home to Bethelia's home in Montana. You were quiet for most of the ride, reflecting on everything that had happened, as well as Missouri's final words to you. You half-listened to Sam and Dean's conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. You knew you had an important decision to make--one you apparently had to make entirely on your own.

Dean noticed your quiet demeanor and it worried him more than he cared to admit. He had to wonder what Missouri had said to you before you'd left, but he didn't want to press you for answers.

"Sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?" Dean suggested softly. "I'm gonna drive through the night."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you asked softly.

"We do it all the time. Don't worry," he assured you.

Sam nodded his agreement. "If he gets tired, I'll take over."

"Over my cold dead corpse," Dean grumbled.

You laughed lightly and Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll try and get some sleep."

You turned your body slightly, leaning your head against the car window. You tried to get comfortable, but the cold metal and freezing window made that impossible.

Dean noticed your discomfort, watching you shift back and forth for several minutes. "Hey baby," he said softly, getting your attention. You turned to look in his direction.

"Come here, use my shoulder." You looked up at him and he offered you a gentle smile. "I can tell you're uncomfortable."

You angled your body to lean across the seat, resting your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, finally finding a comfortable position. You were asleep within minutes. Dean glanced down at you and smiled before placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Sam watched the interaction from the backseat, a mixture of sadness and joy weighing on him. He was glad Dean had found you, but he was terrified of what would happen when they made it to Montana. Sam wasn't stupid...and he knew a lot more about magic than his brother did. He knew it was going to be extremely dangerous to try and fix your memories, and he worried it wouldn't end well. He didn't want to mention his concerns to Dean as he didn't want to scare him. He knew exactly what his brother was like when someone he loved was in danger.

You awoke several hours later to rays of morning sun shining through the windshield. Your head was still resting against Dean's shoulder and he felt you stir slowly.

"Good morning beautiful," Dean whispered softly.

You looked up at him with a smile. "Mornin'." You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and stretched.

You felt Dean's gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. "What?"

"Nothin'."

You raised your eyebrows. "Then why're you looking at me like that?"

He smiled. "You're just so beautiful," he said softly. "I can't help but stare."

You blushed and looked away from him. "Not this early in the morning," you mumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Nice try, sweetheart. You're beautiful 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 366 during leap year." He shot you a wink, which only caused your blush to deepen.

"You're too much," you giggled softly.

He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You're just right."

"What did I do to deserve you?" you asked softly.

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Deserve me? Other way around, baby."

You shook your head. "I don't think so."

He glanced over at you again. "There's a lot you don't remember, (Y/N/N). Trust me when I say I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"That's not what Missouri thinks."

"Huh?"

"She told me you think you don't deserve me, but she said you deserve all the love I have to give. She thinks very highly of you, you know."

The look of surprise covered his face again. "I think highly of her too."

You smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. He looked over at you with a smile. "I can see why I fell in love with you."

His heart skipped a beat, hearing your words had a profound effect on him. "I'm still not sure how I won you over, but I'll always be grateful for your love."

You leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to remember everything," you whispered.

He shot you a warm smile, but it quickly faded to sadness.

"Dean?" you murmured.

"I know what we're going to do is extremely dangerous. I'm no fool, (Y/N/N)...I know Missouri warned you. I don't want you to do anything out of some sort of obligation to me, okay? I would rather die than lose you."

You touched his cheek gently. "I didn't want to worry you."

"I know. I'm willing to bet she told you not to tell me anyway."

Your mirthless chuckle was confirmation enough. "For the record, any decision I make is because it's what I want to do...and I need you to respect my decision."

Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. "I'll try."

You shook your head. "It's not a request, Dean."

He sighed. "I know you can't remember...but I'm not good at these types of situations. I tend to be a little reckless when someone I love is at risk."

"Missouri may have mentioned that too."

Dean chuckled. "Of course she did."

Sam began to stir in the backseat, a loud yawn alerting you both to his consciousness. "We there yet?" he mumbled.

Dean laughed. "We've still got another 4 hours or so."

"You want me to drive?"

"No one but my baby gets to drive Baby."

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Did you just call the car 'Baby'?" you asked.

"The three things I love most in this world are, you, Sammy, and this car."

You laughed heartily, rekindling Sam's laughter and sparking Dean's laughter. You might not be able to remember it, but you knew deep in your soul that these two people were your family--and somehow you loved them even without the memories to back it up.

**********

It was mid-afternoon when the three of you finally pulled up in front of a small house in middle-of-nowhere Montana.

"Do you think Missouri called her?" Dean asked.

"We better hope so," you murmured, pointing at the various signs in the yard warning people not to trespass.

"Yikes," Sam muttered.

Dean sighed and got out of the car, you and Sam following close behind. Before Dean could raise his hand to knock on the front door, it opened to reveal a surprisingly young-looking woman.

"Can you read?" the woman snapped.

"Missouri Moseley sent us," Sam said quickly.

The woman's expression softened immediately. "Well why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"

You followed her inside and she gestured for you to have a seat in her small living room. The three of you sat down beside each other on the small couch.

"I'm Bethelia," the woman said as she sat in a chair across from you. "You must be the Winchesters."

The three of you nodded.

Bethelia looked at you closely. "I see you've been touched by black magic."

You nodded slowly. "So I've been told."

"Can you help her?" Dean asked.

Bethelia hummed quietly. "I can, but I am not certain you'll want me to."

"Missouri warned me it would dangerous."

She nodded. "This type of magic is very strong. I cannot guarantee you will survive."

Dean froze beside you and you blindly reached out to grab his hand. You squeezed it reassuringly. "What do I have to do?"

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded.

Bethelia watched you carefully. "You have to be willing to risk everything to retrieve your memories. As you are now, you can make new memories with the ones you love, even if you cannot remember the past. But if you choose to work with me, your life may be forfeit."

You'd spent every waking hour since leaving Missouri's thinking about what you would do. Now, faced with the question, you found you knew your answer without a shadow of a doubt. "I'm willing to risk it."

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded a second time. "You said it yourself--we can make new memories...we can fall in love all over again."

You turned to look into your husband's bright green eyes, both of which swirled with emotions the depths of which you couldn't even begin to understand. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

Bethelia rose, immediately understanding what you needed. Sam took a second longer, but quickly followed Bethelia from the room, leaving you and Dean alone.

Dean immediately rose from his seat and began to pace. "You can't do this, (Y/N). It's not worth the risk."

"It's my decision, Dean. I don't need your permission, but I would like your support."

"I can't give you that--I can't...I can't lose you."

You stood up and grabbed his hands, stopping him in front of you. "I know it's hard, but it's worth it to me--it's worth the risk. I need to remember, Dean. It's my life and if the last few days are anything to go by, then I'd give anything to remember the last eleven years with you. Anything."

He looked down at you, finally allowing the tears to slide down his face. Your heart broke as you took in his pained expression, fear evident in his gaze. "I want to remember everything about you--every moment, every heartbreak, every painful memory, every joyful second, every loving embrace. I want to remember what it's like to love you--and be loved by you."

You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and you found yourself wishing you could take away his pain. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live a lie--you needed the truth and the only way to get that was to restore your memories.

"I need to remember."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. He would have traded places with you in a heartbeat, sold his soul to save you, set fire to the world to keep you out of harm's way...but he couldn't do any of those things. He was powerless to protect you and it was killing him.

"I know you're strong," he whispered. "but baby, I'm terrified."

"I know," you murmured. "I know."

You rose up on your tiptoes, gently pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss--a kiss you tried to infuse with every complicated emotion you'd felt in the last several days. His body instinctively melted into yours like you were made for each other--like you'd done it a thousand times before.

When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours. "I need you to trust me," you whispered.

Dean closed his eyes. "I trust you."

You exhaled shakily as you pulled away from him. It was killing him, but he couldn't make this decision for you--all he could do was give you the one thing you asked for.

"I support whatever decision you make...and I love you," he said softly. "I'll always love you."

You hadn't really expected him to support you, so hearing him say those words gave you an added boost of strength you didn't know you needed. You touched his cheek one last time before walking away in search of Bethelia.

"You are ready," the witch said from the doorway, her words a confirmation, not a query.

You nodded. "Let's do this."

Sam went to his brother's side, giving him a reassuring clap on the back. There wasn't really anything for him to say, but his presence was enough to calm Dean.

Bethelia turned to address the two men. "No matter what happens, you must not interrupt the spell. If you do, you risk her mind as well as her life. Do you understand?"

They both nodded.

"It will be painful," she said to you.

"I know," you whispered.

She simply nodded and gestured for you to follow. She guided you to a dimly lit room filled with hundreds of candles. The room was obviously home to a large amount of spell work, but much of the space had been cleared to make room for a large mat in the center of the floor.

"Lie down, (Y/N)."

You did as she asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"You may wait in the hall," Bethelia addressed Sam and Dean. "Do not cross the threshold. Do not interrupt the spell. Do nothing."

You turned to make eye contact with Dean. "I'll be alright."

He nodded, desperate to believe you. "I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you whispered back.

"Let's begin," Bethelia said, silencing any further conversation.

You closed your eyes and sent out a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening--a prayer for strength, for survival. It was the last coherent thought you had before your mind was overwhelmed with a blinding pain you couldn't describe.

Sam and Dean watched from outside the room as you writhed in pain, cries of agony ripped from your throat as Bethelia worked her magic.

"I can't watch this," Dean gasped out, turning on his heels and practically running for the front door.

Even outside, he could hear your screams--each one like a knife to his heart. He didn't know how long he stood there, he had long since lost count of your screams, the seconds between them all but disappearing.

Sam had remained inside, standing watch over you as best he could. Much like Dean, his chest ached with each of your screams--he hated seeing you in so much pain.

After what felt like an eternity, silence fell on the small home--a silence more deafening than any scream. Dean waited for a few moments before running back into the house, terrified of what he would find.

When your limp body came into view, he tried to enter the room--tried to reach you, but Sam grabbed him and held him back. "Dean, you can't! She's not done!"

Dean struggled against his brother's hold, every instinct dying to go to you. He watched in terror as you remained still as death, not a single sound escaping your sweet lips.

"(Y/N/N)..." he whimpered.

Bethelia's chanting had ceased, her small form kneeling beside your body as if waiting for something.

Unbeknownst to anyone in the home, a war was raging inside your mind--a battle between who you were and who you believed yourself to be. Memories were fighting for their rightful place in your mind--false and real, a distinction your fragile psyche couldn't make.

The only thing you knew for sure was your name: (Y/N) Winchester. You knew it with the same conviction that you knew gravity was real. Your certainty gave way to another: Dean Winchester was the love of your life. Flashes of moments from the past few days flew through your mind, but the ones you focused on where the memories you didn't recall.

You saw the joyful moments filled with laughter and jokes, the painful moments filled with tears and loss, the passionate moments with nothing between your bodies but sweat and desire, and the loving moments that grounded you--kept you from giving up even when life was unbearable.

You felt his love for you wash over you in waves, drowning you in an ocean of passion you didn't wish to escape from. But then you felt your love for him, the depths of which you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Whatever you'd imagined you'd felt for him paled in comparison to reality--he was tied to your soul so completely you wondered how it was possible to have lived without his memory for more than a moment.

As these memories and emotions solidified within you, the false memories began to fade away, replaced by the real ones that had been locked away in the darkest recesses of your mind. Millions of memories flooded your mind, filling the gaps in your life, making you whole once more.

Dean, Sam, and Bethelia watched in silence, waiting for something to happen. Dean wasn't even certain you were breathing, but he was terrified to ask...he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Bethelia began to look more and more crestfallen as time went on, the minutes ticking by in painful silence. Sam's gaze was focused on her, praying her expression would turn hopeful once again.

Dean's gaze, on the other hand, was focused entirely on you--on your face. He was looking for any sign of movement, of life...anything to calm his aching heart.

An hour had passed since the spell had begun...twenty minutes of silence had stretched on after your screams had ended. They were the longest twenty minutes of Dean's life.

He had begun to lose hope--fearing the worst, but afraid to voice it. Suddenly, you gasped for air, bolting upright as you sucked in gulps of oxygen. Dean ran to you, breaking free of his brother's relaxed grip--not giving a damn if he was allowed to enter the room or not.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out to grab your face. "(Y/N)? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Your eyes met his and his breath caught in his chest. Those sweet (y/e/c) eyes he loved so much were full of recognition--full of love. "Dean," you whispered hoarsely.

He wrapped you in a hug so tightly you thought he might squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You were squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling at home in his arms.

He leaned back to look at your face again, brushing your hair back to see you more clearly. He hadn't realized how different you'd looked when your memories were gone--not until this moment. As he looked at you, he noticed all the little things he hadn't taken the time to pay attention to before. Your skin seemed to glow with love and warmth, your eyes sparkled more brilliantly than they had in the past few days, and your smile was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively, needing to hear the confirmation from your lips.

"I remember," you whispered softly, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

He wrapped his arms around you again, tugging you close, and kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. The moment was so pure, so full of love, that both Sam and Bethelia were moved by it. The love the two of you shared was beyond what an average person would ever experience--incomprehensible to most.

When you finally separated, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. "You scared me for a minute," he admitted.

"I told you I'd be okay," you murmured. "Have a little faith, my love."

He smiled. "God I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Dean finally pulled away from you and rose to his feet. He took your hand in his and helped you up, your body still weak from the intensity of the spell.

You smiled warmly at the two people standing a few feet away. "Hey Sammy. Miss me?"

Sam grinned and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. "Of course I did."

When he stepped back, you addressed Bethelia. "I can't thank you enough."

Bethelia smiled and gestured between you and Dean. "This right here? This is thanks enough. It has been a long time since I've witnessed a love this pure. I feel honored to have been able to witness it again."

You looked up at Dean as he smiled down at you. He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him. "I feel honored to be able to experience it--especially knowing what it's like to live without it."

"I know the feeling," he murmured.

"Not to bring the mood down, but I remember what happened in Colorado," you said softly.

Sam and Dean looked at you, both waiting to hear what you recalled.

"I saw you on the floor--unconscious--and I let my guard down. I was terrified you were dead...that's when she got me."

"The witch," Dean stated quietly.

You nodded. "She knew my name--knew yours too. All she told me was she wanted you to pay. She didn't explain what she meant."

"Why the hell did she target you if she wanted me to pay?"

"She had to have known what losing me would do to you--that it would hurt you more deeply than anything she could ever have done to you directly."

Dean felt a mixture of sorrow and anger. No one was going to get away with hurting you, not as long as he drew breath.

"All I remember after that was the pain...so much pain. Then I woke up in a house in a city I've never lived in before with a whole life I didn't remember. But as far as I was concerned, that was my life. It felt so real--up until the day you waltzed in."

Dean reached out and touched your face. "Anyone who dares hurt you is destined for a short life."

You'd known he'd want to kill the witch, and to be honest, you didn't blame him. Hunting monsters was your life--and this witch certainly counted as one. "We'll find her Dean."

"Damn right we will. I'll put a bullet right through her skull. See how she likes having her mind messed with."

You placed a gentle hand to your husband's arm, trying to calm him. "For now, let's just focus on the good things. I have my memories back and I'm with you. That's what matters."

Dean nodded and offered you a weak smile. "You're right, baby. You're right."

You turned to Bethelia with a smile, thanking her once again, as did Sam and Dean. You were surprised when Dean gave the witch a hug--he wasn't an affectionate man by nature, especially with strangers, but she'd saved your life in his estimation...so she got a pass.

"You're the only witch I've ever liked," Dean commented as the three of you prepared to leave.

Bethelia laughed. "There are others like me out there, I can assure you. We're not all monsters, hunter."

Dean nodded. "Perhaps not."

You grabbed his hand and tugged it gently as you started toward the Impala. "Come on, handsome. It's time to go."

The three of you piled into the car, waving goodbye to Bethelia as you pulled away.

"I'm so ready to go home," you mumbled with a yawn.

"Me too, baby."

"Me three," Sam added.

"Do you want to stop at a motel to rest?" you asked softly.

Dean's gaze rested on your face, drinking it in like he was scared he'd forget it. "Not a chance, sweetheart. I wanna get you home as quickly as possible."

The hungry look in his eyes belied his hidden meaning and you silently hoped Sam didn't notice. "Try not to drive too fast," you teased.

"I would never," he said in mock offense. He pressed firmly on the accelerator and the Impala shot down the road at an assuredly illegal speed.

You laughed and shook your head, knowing full-well Dean would get you home in one piece, even if it was a little faster than it should be.

**********

Fourteen hours later, you were back home in your beloved bunker in Lawrence, Kansas. What should have taken nearly sixteen hours, was shortened by Dean's intense desire to get home.

"Oh I missed this place," you said with a smile as you entered.

"You didn't even remember it existed until a few hours ago," Dean chided.

"I missed it without even knowing what I was missing...kinda like I missed you," you teased back.

He smiled, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not nearly as much as I missed you."

You leaned back into him. "That could be because you actually remembered me."

"There's not a chance in hell I could forget you." He pressed gentle kisses to your neck down to your shoulder.

"As happy as I am to have you back," Sam interrupted. "Could you two get a room?" His voice was light and teasing, which made you laugh.

"Oh come on, Sammy--it's nothing you haven't seen before," Dean said with a grin. "Just a man loving his gorgeous wife."

Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll go get my noise canceling headphones. You two have fun getting reacquainted."

You watched Sam walk off towards his bedroom, a small smile playing on your face.

"So you think we should get...reacquainted?" Dean murmured against the shell of your ear.

"Aren't you exhausted from all the driving?"

"I'm never too tired for you, baby."

You turned around to face him, leaning into his strong body. "I think you should take me to bed then, Mr. Winchester."

"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Winchester." Dean slipped his arms under your round bottom, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you closely as he carried you towards your shared bedroom.

As he made his way to your room, you spent every second pressing kisses to his face sweetly, tangling your fingers in his short hair.

"You better stop that or I might take you right here on the table," he growled lowly.

"It's not like we haven't before," you giggled.

Dean groaned. "I don't wanna scar Sam for life--otherwise, I'd have you on every surface in this damn bunker."

"Maybe later then," you murmured as you kissed his neck affectionately.

Dean moved more quickly, the need to get you into his bed becoming overwhelming. As soon as he made it into the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, pressing you against it as he attached his lips to yours hungrily.

You gasped slightly before returning his passionate kiss. You tugged on his jacket, silently begging him to remove it. He pulled away just long enough to rip his jacket and flannel off before kissing you again.

His strong hands slid up under your shirt, moving upwards to tug it off over your head. His lithe fingers unsnapped your bra with practiced ease and pulled it forward to reveal the swell of your breasts.

"I've missed these," he murmured, lips immediately finding their home between the valley of your breasts. He took his time nipping and sucking at each one, playing with your nipples just the way you liked.

Your fingers dug into his scalp as you held him close to you, reveling in the feeling of his lips on your body. Your core pulsed with aching need, but you ignored it as best you could. You didn't want to rush him...not after all this time apart.

Dean loved how soft you felt against his toned form--he couldn't describe how much he'd missed touching you so intimately. This wasn't the first time the two of you had been torn apart from each other, but it had been the toughest time for him.

He felt your soft hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to remove it. Dean smirked against your skin before turning around and tossing you onto the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, giving you a clear view of his impressive torso.

He started to climb onto the bed, but you stopped him. "Pants too, please."

He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"

You shook your head. "I just want to see your perfect body on display--just for me."

He raised his eyebrows, but did as you asked, removing his pants slowly, eyes locked on yours.

You could see his hard member straining against his boxers, practically begging to be touched. You crawled across the bed, coming closer to him, eyes trained on your target.

"Whatcha doin' baby?"

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, tongue darting out to dampen your lips. "Wanna taste you."

Dean exhaled sharply, but there was no way he was going to say no to your request. He watched as you rolled over onto your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. His breath caught in his chest as he realized your intentions. "You sure?" he whispered.

You grinned cheekily. "Come on pretty boy--use me."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, quickly ridding himself of his last article of clothing. He gripped his large cock tightly in his right hand and stepped forward. He tapped against your mouth gently. "Open wide, sweetheart."

You happily obliged, mouth opening as wide as you could to accommodate his size. He slid slowly into your warm, wet mouth, groaning softly at the feeling.

You made a little noise of pleasure, wrapping your hands around his muscular thighs to get more comfortable and pull him even closer to you.

Dean's motions started out slow, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling of you, listening to the delicious sounds you were making. Within moments, he'd begun fucking your face properly, obscene sounds escaping his lips.

"Fuck--that's it baby. S-so good for me."

You moaned happily, fingers digging into his skin as you continued to take him deep in your throat. He leaned forward to grab at your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples as he thrust, which only increased your enjoyment.

Dean felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum just yet. He eased his cock out of your mouth and took a step back, chuckling softly at your whine.

"Don't worry, baby--I'm nowhere near done." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your messy lips before rising back up to his full height. "Get comfortable, sweetheart--it's my turn."

You quickly rotated your body so your head rested comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Dean wasted no time joining you on the bed, quickly unsnapping your jeans before pulling them off along with your panties.

He wedged himself between your legs, lowering himself to lie flat on the bed. He inhaled deeply, face mere inches from your aching pussy.

"You smell delicious, baby--can't wait to taste you."

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, running a thick stripe up your pussy before sliding between your lips to begin his assault.

Your hips shot off the bed, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He didn't want you to be able to squirm away while he gave you as much pleasure as he could.

Your fingers entwined in his hair as he ate you out like it was the last thing he'd ever do. It felt so incredibly good and your moans of pleasure spurred him on.

"D--feels s-so good."

He moaned into your core, the vibrations making you cry out in pleasure. He sped up his ministrations, years of practice with you making him an expert on your body.

"So close," you whimpered.

Dean slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your g-spot rapidly. Within moments, your orgasm crashed into you with violent intensity, hips jacking off the bed despite Dean's attempts to hold you in place. He kept up with your movements, not stopping until you pulled him up by his hair.

He licked his lips with a smirk, enjoying the lingering taste of you. His normally bright green eyes were dark with arousal as he looked at your blissed out face. He hovered over you, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize every inch of it, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You loved the feeling of his strong body against yours, enjoying the warmth emanating from his heated skin.

"I need you, (Y/N/N)," he whispered against your lips. "Please."

"Wanna feel you inside me, Dean--make me forget my own name."

He growled lowly. "I can do that for you, baby. Only thing you'll be able to say is my name."

You moaned softly, lifting your hips to press against his, earning a sharp inhale from his lips. He slipped his cock in between your folds, entering you completely with one harsh thrust.

You cried out at the feeling of fullness, slight pain mixing with the pleasure. No matter how many times you'd made love to this man, he never failed to make you feel incredible. Every time was like the first time in the first few moments, before quickly morphing into an unforgettable experience with someone who knew your body better than you did.

"Move baby--please," you begged.

He always waited for a few moments, never wanting to cause you any undue pain, but as soon as those words left your mouth, he began to thrust into you in earnest.

"Shit, sweetheart--missed this sweet little pussy. Squeezing me so good, feels like heaven."

"Harder, Dean--please."

Dean shifted his body to give you what you needed, thrusts now deeper and faster than before. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly that bruises were sure to appear.

Your moans reverberated throughout the room, spurring Dean on. His own noises were absolutely sinful--and you loved hearing them. Your nails dug into his muscular back, trying desperately to ground yourself in the sea of pleasure.

You felt your orgasm approaching and you voiced as much to Dean, who was already well-aware.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."

You whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he continued his measured thrusts. "Dean..."

"I've got you, gorgeous. Let go for me."

You cried out in pleasure as your second orgasm washed over you, body shaking beneath his, waves of pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Dean worked you through your high, waiting until your body stopped shaking before gently rolling you onto your stomach. You tried to lift your hips to accommodate him, but he gently pressed you back down into the mattress.

"I've got this baby girl, just get comfortable."

He slid into you, laying his body on top of you, covering you like a heated blanket. The angle of his thrusts instantly sent you spiraling--body trembling beneath him.

"Fuck, sweetheart--how's this pussy still so fuckin' tight?" he growled in your ear.

You were clenching him tightly, intense pleasure slamming into your core with each thrust he made. You could hardly breathe--the pleasure already so blinding.

"You're close again, aren't you? I can feel it, baby," Dean murmured against your neck.

You couldn't do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. He was right--you were on the brink of another blinding orgasm.

"I wanna fill this sweet pussy up, baby--but I can't do that until you cum for me."

You whimpered softly, Dean's thrusts continuing.

"Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"Don't stop--" you gasped.

Dean continued his motions, not changing a single thing. He knew you were close--all you needed was a little push. His lips were so close to your shoulder, brushing softly against your skin. On a particularly hard thrust, Dean bit into your shoulder blade, drawing a scream of pleasure from your throat as you came around him.

He slowed his motions, not quite ready to cum, but not wanting to stop. He kissed the bite mark gently, making sure you felt his love for you in each kiss.

When you'd come down from your high, Dean eased you onto your back, cock still buried deep inside you. He began slow, gentle thrusts, waiting for you to refocus on him.

After several moments, your eyes finally met his and he smiled warmly. "There you are."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I'm right here, baby."

"Want you to fill me up," you begged softly.

Dean groaned. "You keep squeezing me and looking at me like that and I'm a goner."

You gave him a weak smile and clenched your pussy as tightly as you could. He gasped softly, hips stuttering slightly.

"Cum for me, Dean--please."

"Gonna f-fill you up, baby...s-so close."

You wrapped your weak legs around him, holding him against you. You placed a gentle palm against his cheek, forcing him to continue looking at your loving expression.

His thrusts had become sloppy and his breathing labored. A few more thrusts and he exploded inside of you, cries of pleasure leaving his lips as he filled you up. His spend leaked out of you as his thrusts began to slow to a halt, lips pressing into your sweaty skin in gentle kisses.

"I love you," he whispered repeatedly. "So, so much."

Finally, Dean collapsed on top of you, softening member still inside of you. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, entangled together comfortably. You held him tightly, almost afraid to let go.

Dean slowly began to lift himself off of you, leaving you cold and empty. You whimpered softly, reaching for him as he got off the bed.

He turned to you and smiled. "I'm coming right back, baby. I promise."

He moved slowly towards the sink in the corner of the room before returning with a warm, wet washcloth to clean your mixed spends from between your legs. Each touch made you shiver, but his gentle voice grounded you.

"I've got you, baby. Almost done."

Once he'd finished, he tossed the washcloth across the room before crawling back into bed with you. He laid down beside you and tugged you into him. You angled your body to lay your head on his chest.

The two of you laid in silence for so long you began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He had to be tired after that drive and the exertion of your love making, so you didn't blame him.

Just as you began to drift off to sleep yourself, you heard Dean's soft voice. “Babe? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Do you want that normal, apple pie kinda life?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head against his chest. “Absolutely not."

“Really? Not even a little?”

You looked up at him, expression softening. “Not even a little. I happen to love our life. I love living in a weird underground bunker. I love driving all over god’s green earth in our ancient Impala. I love staying in seedy motels and eating shitty diner food. I love saving people and hunting monsters. Do you know why?”

He shook his head.

“Because I get to do it all with you.”

He smiled at you, gaze exceptionally tender.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better than this beautiful, messy life of ours.”

He leaned in to kiss you sweetly. “I love you so damn much, baby.”

“I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always.”

You settled back against his warm chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. You knew tomorrow would bring another battle, another problem to solve, but for right now, you were exactly where you needed to be--in the arms of the man you loved with all your soul, feeling safe and loved...finally home.

[apocalypseornaw]

What If

Dean Winchester x Reader

You make assumptions after a night in Dean's bed that prove to be false

Warnings: Mention of steamy times, cursing, hurt feelings

Heat was the first sensation that hit you. The heat of a warm body curled up to your back. A strong arm laid across your stomach and warm breath hitting the back of your neck as he slept. How the hell had you ended up in this position when the two of you had simply set out to watch a movie last night after Sam had gone to bed?

You'd been in your room, laid across the bed reading a book Alex had sent you for your birthday. It was pretty good so far but you knew you wouldn't get far in it when you heard Dean singing lightly as his footsteps got closer to your open door.

You slid a bookmark in place and laid the book on your nightstand before your green eyed best friend ever Madeira to your door. You glanced up about the time he knocked “What's up Dean?” He smiled slightly “Well Sammy's gone to bed but Claire sent me a list of the top five rated horror movies. The top two we have on streaming”

A grin split your face “Go get them up, I'll grab drinks and meet you in the TV room” he winked at you “that's my girl” then turned to walk off down the hall.

You let out a sigh if only he knew what it did to you when he did shit like that. That wink, calling you his girl. The way he always invited you to watch movies, go for late night drives or how gentle he was patching you up after hunts. You shook your head to clear those thoughts out, he was your best friend. Yeah he was drop dead gorgeous but you couldn't help that you had eyes. You wouldn't ever cross a line he'd never acted as if he wanted to cross and risk that relationship.

____________________________

You were sitting next to Dean on the couch, your feet were curled up under you and Dean's favorite blanket was draped across you both. About halfway through the second movie a jumpscare actually got to you and without thinking you curled into his side, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckled lightly as he tucked his arm around your body “Oh come on sweetheart. I've seen you take on shit a lot scarier than that and not blink!” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out, trying to ignore just how close your faces were “Bite me Winchester. Real life doesn't bother me because if it can touch me and hurt me I can touch it and hurt it”

He shook his head “You're something else” you raised an eyebrow “What you mean by that” he raised his hand that wasn't curled around you to push your hair back that had fallen into your face “Beautiful, smart, badass. Pretty damn close to perfect” you could feel your cheeks warm slightly. It wasn't unusual for Dean to compliment you but it always made your stomach flip. “Oh shut up” you pushed against his chest hoping to turn this semi flirtatious moment into a teasing one but damn him if he didn't cup your chin gently and lift your head to meet his eyes before a smirk slipped onto his face “Make me”

You don't know what came over you at that moment. Maybe temporary insanity? Regardless you found yourself moving forward until your lips met his. It was just a simple kiss but something you'd dreamt of for far too long. It didn't take him even half a second to react. His hands went down to your hips, pulling you over into his lap and when the action caused a light gasp to leave your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that had you melting into him.

When you ground your hips down against his and a deep groan left him that was when reality set in. You were currently straddling your best friend, making out with him and damn near dry humping on the couch. You broke the kiss and damn near jumped off his lap. “I am so sorry Dean. I don't…I don't know what was going through my head”

He stood up, adjusting his jeans as he did so and your eyes flicked down to see a bulge that made your legs weak. The look in his eyes, damn how many waitresses and barmaids had you cussed over the years for having that look focused on them and now you couldn't think straight. “I wasn't exactly shoving you off” he replied taking a step closer and when you didn't back up he quickly covered the space between you pulling you into his arms “You're my best friend Y/N. Besides Sam no one on earth means as much to me as you do but that kiss was….fuck…if you want then this never happened. We'll turn on a different movie and nothing more”

“Or?” You asked, feeling your heart leap into your throat. A smirk slipped back onto his lips “Or we could go to my room and talk” “talk?” You repeated and he nodded “nothing has to happen”

________________________

A moan of Dean's name left your lips as he kissed a trail down your neck, his fingers slipping inside of you easily. “Fuck I love hear you say my name like that” he teased. It didn't take him long to find that one spot inside of you that had you clenching around his fingers and your legs shaking around his wrist.

He continued to pump his fingers lazily in and out of you as he worked you through the orgasm. When you weakly pushed at his wrist he caught your eyes before licking his fingers into his mouth, those sinful lips working as he sucked your juices off his fingers. “Taste as good as you look” you shook your head with a laugh “Take your pants off and get up here Dean” he grinned “Yes ma'am”

He stood long enough to slip his pants off then crawled up the bed, kissing his way up your body until he got to your lips. He caught them in a searing kiss that let you taste yourself on him. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes “Are you sure about this?” You nodded and felt his hardness pressed against your inner thigh “I want this”

He pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance. When he slipped inside of you a moan left both of you at the feeling. He dropped his head down against your chest once he was fully inside of you to give you time to adjust. His lips left a trail across your collarbone “you feel so damn amazing sweetheart” After a moment the discomfort of the fullness of his gave way to pleasure so you turned his face to kiss him “Move Dean”

He began to roll his hips tentatively against yours and when your reaction was your eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling that was all the clearance he needed. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see you come undone” it took you a minute to focus your eyes back on him and when you did he smiled almost shyly “look at you Y/N. Damn you're perfect” he pulled almost completely out of you then slammed back in. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails cutting into the skin as he sat a grueling pace that filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin and both of you moaning the other's name.

When you felt yourself reaching that peak he bit down gently on your neck “Let yourself go baby. I'm not far behind. I want to feel you come around my cock, please” Dean Winchester of all men begging you to come? Christ, that pushed you over the edge with a scream of pleasure ripping from your lips.

His thrusts faltered slightly and through gritted teeth he asked “Don't you have an iud?” You nodded and he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust. The feeling of him coming worked another small orgasm out of you that had your legs shaking around him.

When he pulled out you whimpered slightly and he apologized with a light kiss “Just gonna grab my shirt to clean you up some baby ok?” You nodded weakly and felt the bed dip before Dean was knelt between your knees “Open up for me beautiful” you slowly spread your legs and he smiled “you look so fucking gorgeous like this. All fucked out” he used his shirt to clean you up as best as he could before tossing it back to the floor.

When he laid back down next to you he ran a finger down your side which caused you to squirm. “I'll go to my room once my legs work” He slipped his arm around you to pull you back against him “Take your time. No rush”

Every insecurity and what if started to flip through your head. Dean wasn't a settling down type. He didn't like attachments because he knew that put a target on them. He cared about you enough as a friend to put himself in danger. This wouldn't work. Either he'd not want this and feel some sort of obligation from your years of friendship or worse he would feel for you what you truly felt for him and it would end with him getting himself killed to keep you safe.

______________

It took some work to slip out the bed without waking him but you managed it and slipped your clothes on quickly. You needed a shower and to get the hell out of the bunker for a few minutes. You just needed to clear your head. It was supply run day. Groceries were needed and mail needed to be checked. You'd tell Sam to let you handle it. That would give you breathing room.

When you parked your car back at the bunker Sam came out to meet you and help with bags. When you glanced behind him he shrugged one shoulder “Can I ask something that may not only be none of my business but may be uncomfortable too?”

You nodded “We've known each other for a good chunk of our lives so I'd say yeah” he grimaced as he ran a hand across the back of his neck “I heard you and Dean last night so I thought…I don't know what I thought but did something happen? Because he seemed upset that you left while he was asleep”

“Sam, I didn't want to make things weird for Dean. You know my feelings” he nodded “but did you ask him his or just assume?” You didn't have to say anything Sam saw the look in your eyes. “He's in the library cleaning guns. I've got the bags”

________________

You could hear the clinking of metal when you got closer to the library. You stopped right inside the doorway and watched Dean for a moment. The way he handled the guns was a thing of beauty. He could probably break them down, clean them and put them back together in his sleep at this point.

He didn't look up from the colt before saying “You made it back in one piece” you nodded lamely “Dean can we talk?” He laid the colt down and raised his eyes to meet yours “Let me guess where this is going. You had a good night but don't want nothing to change”

You swallowed hard under the intensity of his stare “Can I talk without you putting words in my mouth?” He waved a hand to say go ahead “Dean you're my best friend and I love you, I fell in love with you. Last night was fucking amazing but I don't want to make you regrets things, you don't do love, you don't do relationships”

“because why? Dean's a man whore that just bed hops? Because Dean is incapable of love? Because despite us being best friends for over a decade there's no possibility that I fell in love with you too? There's no possibility i fucking wanted to wake up with the woman I love in my arms?” You flinched at his tone despite your heart flipping at his words “You love me?” He stood up and walked around the table “How could I not?”

You took a step back putting your back to the wall. He stood right in front of you, leaning a hand on the wall just over your head but giving you room to move “I love you Y/N. I'm in love with you. Last night was everything. Now what other demons are lurking in your head cause you know I don't mind taking on each and every one of those sons of bitches”

“What if you get hurt protecting me?” You asked and he smiled “baby I'd do that now but I know for the most part you can handle yourself and don't act like you're not self sacrificing either” you laughed despite yourself “What if you get bored of one woman?” He grinned “unlikely but we can always role play sweetheart. Believe me I mean it when I say you're fucking perfect for me”

“What if…” he cut you off by saying “What if you stop giving me excuses and let me kiss you? We could both die tomorrow and if that happens it happens but I'd rather have a day knowing you were completely my girl then live the rest of our lives just having part of you. I'm yours, you mine?” You nodded “Always. Now kiss me” He grinned “Yes ma'am”

[pearlzier]

hiii! i hope you’re having a good day/night ^_^ i was wondering if you could wirte either sam or dean winchester with a bimbo reader!! smut or fluff i dunno ahhh TY!!

☆ ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ this took me so long m'so sorry ml !! ۫ .

☆ warning ; tad bit suggestive i mean. it's dean ,,

“pass me the fuckin’ uh..” dean ran his hand through his hair, crouched beside baby. it was a one in a million day where dean had no shit to do, so he found himself doing checks on baby even if she was in perfect shape. doesn't mean he can't check in on his girl, whilst his girl is sat on the precariously stored chair. yeah, he'd told you if you fell he'd absolutely laugh at you however he knew full well that he'd literally perform an act of magic on you to keep you safe.

“uh, screw driver?” you bat your lashes at him, legs rocking as you typed on your phone, snorting out a laugh at the emoticon that charlie had sent you. of course, you liked to help dean out. but the weather was so good, and the sun was good for your skin, or so that forum that you read at the library when you went with sam said. also, you and charlie had a lot of gossip to catch up on, so.. you weren't on your game as much as you usually were.

a soft laugh slips past dean's lips as he shakes his head, looking back at the toolbox in your lap. you watch as he gets up, his hands a little stained with car oil, which in fact, does not suit the white colour of your babydoll top, clinging to the curve of your chest. which dean took much pleasure in, but besides—so you squirm back a little when he comes closer, “dean, you cannot touch me with your hands like that, i love you, but no—”

“relax, sweetheart, just tryna get a wrench,” dean teases, “can't a guy get a wrench? jeez,” he raises his hands teasingly before he carefully grabs a wrench from the tool box. not before swiping his thumb over your nose which causes you to squeal, and he quickly makes his way back to baby before you can retaliate.

“dean!” you gasp, rummaging for your pocket mirror in the pockets of your baby pink hoodie, finding it and soon looking at yourself in the mirror. a little smudge of darkness glistens on your nose and the pout you give dean makes him cackle a little.

“c'mon, it adds character, don't you think?” he does a little tinkering under the car, to which you have absolutely no clue what he's doing. did you want to know? no, not really. you wanted to know why you had oil on your nose! you knew why, but why dean did it was a mystery, and you huffed.

“you'll know what character is when i'm done with you,” you mumble back sassily, giggling when you see the surprise fill dean's gaze. so, he rises from where he is, and saunters his way back over, having used a rag to wipe down his hands so you wouldn't throw a little hissy fit.

“is that right, hm?” his green eyes lift to yours, and leaning against the chair, he bites his bottom lip. hell, he likes when you get fiesty with him. “gonna show me character?” his low, gravelly voice cooed softly as his hands brushed over your sides.

this knocked you down a few pegs, because to be fair, if your bombshell of a boyfriend is speaking like that and holding you like this, well, who isn't gonna get a little flustered. “uh—yeah, character.” you do notice how his eyes flit down to your cleavage for a vague moment, and you speak up, a little uncharacteristically but in a way dean adores—“eyes are up here, deano.”

a groan slips past his pink lips, and you soon find his green, piercing eyes hooded and looking up at you. “tease,” he mutters under his breath, and a flush dusts his skin that he never expected to happen. “think i know where your eyes are, doll, just enjoying..” he traced a finger over the lace containing the spill of your tits, “the view. know you're enjoyin’ mine.”

you thought he wouldn't notice! you'd been staring at him for a while now, considering the fact he'd blessed you with the sight of not only his arms in a tank but sweats? your man was a slut, you couldn't even deny it. “dean, stoppp,” you mumble, getting a little heated as he brushes his fingers over you. “shut up.”

he pouts playfully, pressing his forehead gently against yours. lifting his thumb to your glossy lips, he pulls it gently before letting it go, a giggle slipping past his lips. “now you're being mean, pretty baby,” his hands slide down from your chest to your thighs, squeezing them gently. “mean to your ol’ dean?”

you push at his chest playfully, tapping your acrylics against his chest with a little laugh. this causes dean to dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh a little and pull you against him. “you were bein’ mean to me first, dean!” his brows raise, “you know exactly how. oil? nose? coulda’ gotten it on my top!”

he rolled his eyes at your behaviour, it's not like that top was expensive anyway. you two got it when dean had literally stolen 20 dollars from a wallet he found on the floor this one time. but that's besides the point. “can always get you a new one,” he shrugs his shoulders, flashing the signature winchester smirk. “kinda always been itchin’ to rip this one anyway. doesn't do that body justice.”

“dean,” you two were literally outside the motel, you couldn't do anything like dean was absolutely suggesting. and judging from the way his hand was sliding up under your skirt to cup your ass, well, he was suggesting a lot. he gives a gentle squeeze, growling softly before he lifted you up off of the chair, causing you to squeal. “dean!”

he swung you over so you'd sit on the hood of the impala, watching as your little skirt hiked up. a grin played on his lips and he sighed softly. “how'd i get so lucky, huh?” dean lifted ring clad fingers to brush the side of your face. “grumpy hunter like me.”

“fine ass hunter like yourself,” your retort was instant.

“i didn't say it, you did, so it ain't braggin’,” dean wiggled his eyebrows instantly, drawing you impossibly closer as his hands groped at your thighs gently. he was clearly a big fan of your body.

“dean, there are people walking past,” you nudge him, not before placing a glossy kiss to his cheek. he shrugs, glancing over at a passing woman and her boyfriend on the street. in usual dean fashion, he gives your ass a pat and winks at the couple, not that you realise.

“well, maybe, they wanna piece of this fine ass,” he squeezed, looking up at you through his lashes. “they'd have to go through me, first though,” literally before you can even realise it, you've been hiked up over his shoulder with your ass practically out.

“dean, my skirt!” dean acts oblivious, but slides a hand over you to keep the view at bay, a laugh slipping past his lips. “relax, sweetheart, i got you,” does this calm your nerves? no, not really, but, you relax into his grasp.

“you're the worst,” as you shake your head, your earrings shimmer under the dim lights of the motel as you make your way in. dean's practically a deer in headlights looking at you before he focuses again, and taps the doorframe of where sam's in.

“keep an eye on baby, alright? got some uh, things to be doin’, sammy,” it's like sam didn't even have to ask as he saw dean give you a playful swat on the ass, herding you to the bedroom. 

“yeah, sure, whatever,” sam was ninety-five percent sure he might have to go do his research in the impala because knowing you two? you were loud.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @onlynextdoor ۫ .

☆ 𝜗𝜚 ( your honor, i loveeee himmmmmmmmm.... lmk if u wanna be tagged in spn works lolz

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — second chapter | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow meets his tribute and lands on a cage and then a car ride with his girl <33

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i never tasted orange chicken but since @nowitsmissing likes it, that means it's good and worthy for Coryo to eat

Series Masterlist | Navigation | previous chapter!

“I wouldn't sing a note for you if I were her!” - Coriolanus reminded himself of Tigris's words as he waited for the train to arrive. Besides a handful of peacekeepers, he was the only one standing in the train station, waiting for the tributes to come.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was terrified. He wasn't sure if he was breaking any rules as he stood and waited. The academy hadn't sanctioned this, but they didn't tell the mentors what to do or not to do either.

It's not his fault he's getting a headstart.

Though he was surprised that you weren't here, waiting. He glees internally. He had already one-upped you and was going to continue to do so.

Snow lands on top.

He was going to be five steps ahead of everyone. No one can take the Plinth Prize away from him and he's going to make this ‘Lucy Gray’ won't either.

If not a winner, she'll create a fine spectacle for the Capitol, with her snakes and voice. Even if some part of him was terrified of her, leave it to Dean Highbottom that he got an insane tribute.

And of course, leave it to Dean Highbottom that he gave you someone who has actual chances of winning. And of the same district too, as if trying to push them both into a battle with each other.

It was highly annoying. It felt like Dean Highbottom was mocking him with this. Dangling a carrot in front of him and expecting him to take the bait and snap. But he won't. You weren't going to win this, and Dean Highbottom won't be getting the satisfaction of the Snows' falling.

Finally, the train had arrived, and with it came his Lucy Gray Baird. She was a girl with a rainbow frilly dress and a mess of brown curls. She was pretty (not as much as you) and had a certain accent when she came to him, asking who he was.

“I am Coriolanus Snow,” he begins to introduce himself with a warm tone, “and I am your mentor.”

He holds a white rose in his hand, pushing his arm forward to offer it to her. A part of him watches in horror as she spews nonsense and tears a petal from the beautiful rose and eats it.

She eats it and smiles at him, “Tastes like bedtime.”

A part of him was horrified, his mind solidifying the fact that Lucy Gray was truly insane. But a part of his mind went back to yesterday when you had taken off a petal of the red rose.

When you had crushed it between your fingers, the red juices of the petal pigmented your fingertips. He wonders if he could take the digits in his mouth and clear your skin of the taint if it would taste delicious with the flavor of your skin. If it-

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucy Gray (damn her!). “What does a mentor do besides bringing me flowers?” Her voice calls him out.

He tried hard not to frown or snap at her. He controls his voice, depriving it of the annoyance he feels as he replies, “I try my best to help you win.”

She hums in response. And before he could continue the conversation, the peacekeepers came in to sweep the tributes into a truck. He tried to keep pace and asked for permission if it was alright to enter but was ignored. So when a distraction was caused by a tribute trying to run (foolish, foolish boy), he entered the truck.

He was being stared at by them all as if he was the animal, and not them. All of the tributes looked more or less filthy, sick, and District. It seemed like only Lucy Gray bothered to somewhat take care of her appearance, with her bizarre make-up and rainbow dress.

Soon enough, he was pinned by a black boy, named Reaper. Everyone around him yelling to kill him, cheering him on, goading him on. Lucy Gray decided to prove herself to be useful to Coriolanus. She was the one speaking up about how if he died, their families would be hurt and that she might need him.

Despite many protests and not being convinced to leave him alone, they couldn't do anything about especially when suddenly the truck gates swung open, and then bam!

Light sweeps in and everyone loses their balance. Falling onto bare, rough ground, landing onto a cage. Coriolanus barely managed to stand up before he realized where he was. A zoo, a fitting place for district animals but not for him. Not only that, he was surrounded by people and cameras.

With his luck, this was probably broadcast live. He felt panic rush in his veins, his mouth drying up and his hands getting sweaty. He was going to make a fool out of himself in front of all of Panem, Sejanus, and You.

No, wait, you were there. His wide, panicking eyes find yours. Just like him, you were in your academy uniform. But you were outside the cage and he was in it.

Never on the same side. You and he.

He could feel his body shaking, an anxiety attack beginning with his breaths becoming shorter and shorter. Just then he could see you form the words, ‘Own it. Own it, Coryo.’ He nods in reply, his mind quietening as he becomes focused on a task.

The Capitol wanted a show, he was going to give them one.

He snaps off the stem of the rose and places it on Lucy Gray's ear. He will never know how your eyes glared at him for that action. He takes her hand his, swallowing the disgust about the fact he was touching District.

“Lucy Gray, let me introduce you to my neighbors,” he said as he dragged her in front of the cameras. The girl had been smart so far, if she knew what was good for her, she would continue acting like that.

He goes near Flickerman, the guy with the microphone and you were standing there beside him. Your arms crossed in front of your chest, your eyebrows raised in an unimpressed way. He only shrugged in response before giving his attention to the cameras.

He lets Lucy Gray sweet talk to the camera. She was polite and playful, playing into the hearts of the Capitol citizens with ease. Then the cameras turn to him, and before Flickerman asks him why he is in the cage. He isn't sure what to answer.

As if you could sense his panic, you immediately take the attention of him with your reply. “That's Coryo for you. Always making an impression. You should look forward to him. And his tribute,” your eyes turn to look at Lucy Gray, a hint of poisonous hate in your look that was hidden by the fake warmth of your smile.

“And you should be looking forward to my tribute too, Jessup Diggs.” You added as you stole the show with your sweet words. The broadcast ended with Flickerman praising you for your encouraging words despite the fact you and Snow were rivals.

He grits his teeth as he is dragged into a car by the peacekeepers. He supposed he was going to be taken to the Academy. He sat in the back seat, waiting for the car to start. He wished he would go there before lunch began, he hadn't breakfast. He couldn't have those damn cabbages again, he would rather tie the shower curtain around his neck.

The car door opens and you slip inside, sitting beside him. His breath hitches as he takes in the scent of your perfume. The heat of your body sweeps into his as your arm brushes against him. “You're crazy,” you said, not looking at him but the ruins of the Capitol outside the window. The car had started to drive back to the Academy.

“For getting a headstart,” he replied, “it's not crazy if it's smart.”

“Smart,” you mock, you turn to him, your face twisted in anger. You spit out, “It's not smart if you die, Snow! Those animals could have done anything to you! During the ride! During the cage! Do you think the cameras or the people would have stopped them? Fuck no and for what? A headstart!? It was stupid.”

Coriolanus blinks as he sees your childish tantrum. He was sure it was because he was going to be the talk of Panem, and not because you had genuine concern for him. He doesn't reply anything to you, despite feeling offended that you called him stupid.

He had been caught off guard, but he wasn't stupid. He furrows his eyebrows but keeps quiet. The silence was heated, and awkward. But it continues to persist, that's until his stomach growls, reminding him of his uneaten cabbage soup.

He felt his body flush in embarrassment. He begins to think of excuses to explain the loud growl but before he can even think of anything, a box is handed to him. You had taken something out of your bag and just set it on his lap along with a plastic spoon.

“It's not poisoned,” was the only thing you said, your eyes now back at the window.

“I sure hope so,” he replied, his voice controlled and his mind glad that you didn't glance at him to see his red face.

He opens up the box to see rice and orange chicken. He devours it as manner fully as he can. It took him a lot of self-control not to moan with each bite. It was that good. Perhaps his mind was subconsciously biased because it was by you. He didn't linger much on that thought.

But his touch did linger when he handed you back the box. He didn't thank you and you didn't ask for one. Neither of you said a word as your fingers laced together with his.

Neither of you said a word when your hand squeezed his, tightly. A warning not to act stupid again.

Neither of you needed to.

Both of you reached the Academy and Coriolanus stepped out of the car.

Time to face the consequences of his actions.

Next Chapter

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[call-me-mrs-winchester]

RELAX

PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax

WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.

REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"

A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!

For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.

The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.

"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"

You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."

He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."

You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"

"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."

You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"

"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."

A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."

You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."

"I'll quiz you after." He entices.

"Mm... alright."

Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.

Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.

Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.

It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.

A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.

He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.

You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.

He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.

His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.

The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.

Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.

There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.

"Like what you see?"

"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.

You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.

"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."

That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.

You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.

He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.

"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.

"Let it go, sweetheart."

With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.

You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.

He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.

"Are you relaxed?"

You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."

"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."

"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."

"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.

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[lexabitxh]

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking  back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

[saturnneedsspace]

After Cas confesses his love, but before he pushes Dean away, he pulls something out from his trench coat and slips it into Dean's pocket. Cas pushes him down and gets taken by the Empty, followed by Billie, leaving Dean alone on the bunker floor. As he cries, he feels something push into his chest, so he reaches his hand into his flannel pocket and pulls out the mixtape. The one he had given Cas as a gift and a secret sort of love confession of his own, thinking Cas wouldn't understand it. But as he stared down at the tape over top that read 'Dean's top 13 Zeppelin traxx', he knew that Cas understood. And he feels his heart break even more. Cas knew. Cas knew how he felt, yet he never said anything until it was too late. They were both too stupid to understand and just tell each other.

As Dean held the mixtape firmly in his hands, shoulders shaking with his sobs, he noticed that something felt off about it. The texture was different. He would know. He had flipped the cassette over and over and over in his hands before giving it to Cas, trying to decide on what to say to the angel.

Dean used his sleeve to wipe the blurriness from his eyes so he could see what was wrong with it. It still took a few seconds to adjust, and when he saw the large crack down the center of the tape, he gasped and brought it closer to his face. More tears spilled down his face. Cas' last move was to give this back to him, to show him that he understood their love and reassured Dean that, though he never said it, he knew how much he had meant to him. And Dean had broken it. The last thing Cas had ever given him besides the bloody handprint forever imprinted on his coat.

But as Dean's hands held on, finergrtips rubbing over the surface again and again, desperate to feel some kind of comfort in his hopeless situation, he noticed something attached to the back of it. He sniffled, wiped his eyes again, and flipped it over. On the backside, there was a piece of paper taped there with his name written on it. He quickly ripped it off, causing the cassette to re-split in half, obvious that the piece of tape being all that held it together, and opened the note.

Hello, Dean.

I just wanted to write you this before I give back your tape and apologize for breaking it. I'm really really sorry. I know I'm not super good at apologies, but writing makes it a lot easier, so I'm writing it for you. I hope you'll forgive me. I didn't mean to break it. I know you spent a lot of time picking the songs specifically for me because you knew I'd like them, though I had trouble understanding some of the parts. I'll never understand why humans love music so much. It's so much noise and there's so much going on, but I know it's important to you, so I will learn to like it. I'm very sorry for breaking it. I don't ever take it out of my trench coat, just in case I need to listen to it during an emergency, and I fell onto it. :( Please forgive me, Dean. I'm very sorry.

As Dean read, he watched tear drops stain the paper. He laughed a little as he continued to cry, noting how the letter was the most characteristic Cas letter he could think of. And he was happy. So happy that he didn't break it himself. It was already broken.

Cas knew how much the weight of handing over a mixtape was, especially a Zeppelin one for Dean, and he acknowledged it. Dean squeezed the letter to his chest as he leaned back against the wall and continued to cry silently.

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[ilovecatilinclark]

Style

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Based off of style by taylor swift

you and have been having a situationship with her, finally she confesses.

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time

You knew you should've off told her to go home but you just couldn't, you knew what was gonna happen. You guys would end up making out but never actually confirm the relationship. Even as hard as you tried to push her away from you. You couldn't even if you might be a fling you hoped and tried.

Time went by fast first she was on the couch now your on the bottom of her making out passionately. You knew you were just another one of girls she would come to when she was bored. Every time she came she would always end up ranting about a new girl that ghosted her or played her. Then you guys would be making up on the couch helping comfort her.

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

While you were at a party you saw Paige, she made eye contact with you. As you both held the eye contact your friend soon called you over still feeling a lingering eye on you. You knew she was still staring especially since you were wearing her favorite red lipstick you owned.

As she stared you down you tried your hardest to ignore her lingering eyes and not to make eye contact with her. Even with how soft her gaze what you knew you shouldn't look for too long. You didn't want too catch feelings for her just from how her eyes looked at you. Seeming like she longed for you, as you were continuing partying and drinking you felt a pair of hands wrap around you.

"Hey, you look breath taking" Paige said with her adoring eyes looking up and down at you stunned at how good you look. "Thanks" you said blushing trying to avoid her gaze.

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Even with the times she ghosted you or left you on read you knew you guys would always be back together and would always find each other. It was a habit of hers to never really reply or ghost you when she found a new girl or because she lost interest talking to you.

Even when you would cry to your friend's or your close friend Aaliyah Edwards as all she could do was comfort you feeling pity. Even after crying your heart out Paige always went back to you and always came back to fix everything. You guys would always come back and be best friends you knew she didn't feel the same as much as you. But you never gave up even if it was this continuous cycle.

You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

As you were walking around the campus you spotted Paige. She was wearing her white t-shirt and the slick back hair that got you every time. It was clear she just came back from practice. As you planned to ignore her knowing she was probably ignoring you. You walked past her till you felt some arms hug you in the back. "I missed you" she said tucking her head into your neck smelling you.

Oh you were so back you guys soon were gonna meet up at this party. You knew you were knew as a good person, you were kind and never judge mental always giving everyone a chance. Everyone knew you and Paige were on and off and all they felt was pity. Knowing you were such a good person. You soon arrived in the party you met with Paige "cute skirt" she said as you waved at her. "thanks" you said grabbing the drink from her hand.

As you guys were partying you both knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands away from each other. As Paige was being a bit handsy you couldn't help but get flustered but kept partying. You wanted to ask "What are we" but knew Paige would blow it off.

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

Before you could even text Paige the next morning you saw on Instagram you were blocked again. You were so confused you thought you guys were better now. As you soon called Aaliyah to cry to her again about how this always happen. You didn't know on the other side Paige was also in the room with the rest of the team. Listening onto the conversation.

She felt guilt, she knew she was always blowing you off and just really using you as a comfort. But she started to feel genuine feelings, but she didn't want to hurt you. Soon after the call her teammates told her to just confess and to stop hurting you. She knew she had to act, soon she was at your dorm knocking. As you opened the door with red puffy eyes. She quickly said "Will you be my girlfriend" she said as she stared into your eyes. You were stunned you were confused but you couldn't help but feel relieved and happy.

"Yes Paige I will be' your girlfriend while sniffling but smiling, as she came closer and hugged you. Even if it took some time for Paige to like you back. You knew you two would never go out of style always finding each other and staying together forever.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Something Wicked | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implications of verbal parental abuse

Word Count: 4885

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The two boys were bickering over coordinates Dean had received from an anonymous number. 

“Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy.”

“Well, I'm telling you, I looked, and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what.”

“Well, maybe he's going to meet us there.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point.”

You sighed. You weren’t about to get in the middle of this argument and tuned the rest of it out. Alas, Dean won the argument, as he often did. 

You stopped for some coffee along Fitchburg’s main street. The town itself was small, but it was quaint. A little too Middle America for your taste.

“Well… the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, no one's heard about anything freaky going on,” Dean sighed, handing you and Sam your respective coffee orders.

“Dean, you got the time?” you asked him.

“Ten after four. Why?”

You nodded in front of you at the playground you were looking at. “What's wrong with this picture?”

It was deserted aside from one child climbing on the jungle gym.

“School's out, isn't it?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. So where is everybody?” Sam added. “This place should be crawling with kids right now.”

You and the Winchesters walked over to a woman on a park bench reading a magazine. Dean approached her, saying, “Sure is quiet out here.”

The woman sighed, “Yeah, it’s a shame.”

“Why's that?”

“You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing.”

“How many?”

“Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching,” she explained.

All four of you watched the little girl playing by herself, and the wheels in your head began to turn. Why would John send you all the way to Fitchburg over a few sick kids?

The three of you made your way up to the pediatrics ward of the hospital to investigate the sick children. Dean and Sam donned suits, and you wore a pencil skirt and heels. You couldn’t lie to yourself, Dean looked amazing in his suit, but you much preferred his usual leather jacket and biker boots. 

“See something you like?” Dean smirked at you.

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. He just snickered in response while your cheeks burned.

A doctor approached you and the boys before Dean could taunt you any further. You introduced yourselves and headed down the corridor with the man. “Well, thanks for seeing us, Dr. Hydecker,” Dean said.

“Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyways?” the doctor asked.

“Oh, some GP— I forget his name— he called Atlanta, and, uh, he must've beat you to the punch,” Dean lied.

“So you say you got six cases so far?” you asked.

“Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. But now…”

“What?”

“The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are... wearing out.”

“Wait, but are there any signs of leukopenia?” you asked. “Any history in these kids of that?”

Dean looked over at you, confused by what you were saying. You continued to talk to the doctor.

“No, actually,” Hydecker answered. 

“What about neutropenia?”

He shook his head as a nurse handed him a clipboard full of papers.

“Then, whatever this is would have to be attacking the bone marrow as well as the respiratory system… Have you done biopsies?”

“No, we haven’t,” Hydecker answered. “I’ll give that a try.”

“You ever seen anything like this before?” Sam questioned.

“Never this severe,” the doctor said. “And the way it spreads… that's a new one for me.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sam.

“It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after another.”

“You mind if we interview a few of the kids?” Dean questioned.

“They’re not conscious,” the doctor replied.

You were shocked. “None of them?”

“No.”

“Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?” tried Dean.

“Well, if you think it'll help.”

“Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?”

Hydecker directed you to a man sitting on a chair against the wall in the waiting room. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He explained to you the oldest girl was first, and then his youngest. He told you that her window had been opened, but there was no one who could’ve done so except for his daughter because her room was on the second floor. 

You and the boys headed out of the pediatrics ward and back toward the car. 

“(Y/N), how’d you know all that stuff?” Sam asked you, referencing your conversation with the doctor.

“I like to read,” you shrugged. Sam smiled at your response and walked a little ahead of you. 

Dean came up next to you. “You were really serious about nursing, huh,” he said softly enough so Sam wouldn’t hear.

“I guess. I really do just like to read, though,” you smiled. “I think I just wanted to stick it to my dad. I always thought I’d be happier not hunting. But, uh, I just don’t think I could ever go back to being ‘normal’.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he responded. 

Sam turned back to you and his brother. “You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia.”

“No way,” you shook your head, “pneumonia wouldn’t be lowering white blood cell count. It’d have to be elevated for it to be true pneumonia. Infection and all that.”

Sam hummed. “Okay, so then what’s your theory?”

“Honestly? Not sure.”

“I'll tell you one thing,” said Sam. “That dad we just talked to? I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home.”

***

“You got anything over there?” Sam asked Dean. The three of you had climbed through the home of the last two kids who had gotten sick looking for clues.

“Nah, nothing,” the older brother answered.

“Yeah, me neither,” you chimed in. You moved over to the window and paused. “Hey guys? I really don’t think it’s pneumonia.”

The boys came over and followed your line of sight to a rotted handprint with long, tendril-like fingers. 

“What the hell leaves a handprint like that?” Sam asked.

Dean seemed to get pulled away into his own mind for a moment before he began to look a little sick. “I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job.”

Dean raced down the stairs to the window on the back of the house you’d climbed through. You followed him close behind. You would ask him what had happened to him in the little girl’s bedroom later.

Dean explained to you on the ride to the motel what he thought you were hunting: a shtriga.

“So what the hell is a shtriga?” Sam asked as Dean pulled into a motel parking lot. This motel was a little cuter than the ones you’d visited previously; centered around a white cabin with green shingles. 

“It's kinda like a witch, I think. I don't know much about 'em,” explained Dean.

“Well, I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal.”

“Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there. You don't remember?”

Sam shook his head.

“And I guess he caught wind of the things in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates,” Dean went on.

“So wait, this…” Sam paused, waiting for Dean to remind him how to pronounce it.

“Shtriga.”

“Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?” Sam’s brows furrowed together.

“ ‘Cause it got away.”

Sam scoffed. “Got away?”

Dean was beginning to get frustrated, and you knew it was a cover-up for whatever was going on inside his head. “Yeah, Sammy, it happens.”

“Not very often.”

“Well, I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning,” snarked the older brother.

“What else do you remember?”

“Nothin'. I was a kid, alright?” Dean said defensively. You followed him into the motel lobby only to see a little boy watching TV in one room and a boy around ten or eleven walking out of it.

“A king or two queens?” The boy asked, looking between you and Dean.

“Two queens,” you and Dean answered quickly. “And one king, actually,” you added, stepping aside to reveal Sam behind you.

A woman entered smiling at you both. “Checking in?”

You nodded to her.

“Do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner,” the woman instructed the boy. 

“I'm helping a guest!” he protested, but turned away under his mother’s hard stare. “Two queens. And a king.”

“Will that be cash or credit?” she asked you.

Dean took out his card. “You take MasterCard? Perfect. Here you go.”

You watched him look behind the woman at the boy pouring his younger brother a glass of milk. And there he went again; pulled into what you could only assume was memories of himself and Sam.

The woman before you held out his card to zoned-out Dean, and you took it from her instead. “Uh, thanks.” She handed you the keys, and you nudged Dean to bring him back to reality.

***

Dean explained to you and Sam what shtrigas fed off: children, most commonly. The only thing that could kill them were specially designed wrought-iron rounds while the thing was feeding. They often take the form of something unsuspecting; like an old woman.

“Hang on,” Dean said. “Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far and dead center?”

“The hospital,” you noted.

“Now, when we were there, I saw a patient; an old woman,” Dean continued.

“An old person huh?” questioned Sam. “In a hospital? Phew. Better call the Coast Guard.”

You giggled at Sam.

“Well, listen, smart-asses, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall.”

You and Sam stopped snickering and looked up at Dean. He raised an eyebrow at you.

And so, you headed to the hospital. Fortunately for her— but unfortunately for your hunt— the old woman with the upside down cross on the wall was just cataract-ridden and crotchety. Upon your return to the motel after thoroughly freaking out the old woman, you pulled Dean to your motel room for a talk before bed.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting on a chair in your room. 

You sat on the bed across from him. “Where do you keep going?” you asked.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I just realized how stupid that sounded. You keep, like, disappearing into your own brain,” you responded. “Like in the motel lobby. You zoned out looking at that kid and his brother.”

“Oh, that,” he said quietly. “I, uh, it’s stupid.”

“Dean,” you leaned over your crossed legs and rested your hand on his knee. “I’m asking you. It’s not stupid. I just care.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Dean,” you said. “You made me a pinky promise at that scary asylum. You promised you’d tell me. Please?”

He huffed out a small laugh. “You know how I said my dad hunted this thing before?”

You nodded.

“Well, I’m the reason it got away.”

“How? Didn’t you say it was sixteen, seventeen years ago? You would’ve been ten, dude,” you responded.

“Yeah, but it’s complicated. My dad left us alone in motel rooms all the time. He made me repeat to him what I was and wasn’t supposed to do every time he would go out on a hunt. Sam and I would fight over the last bowl of Lucky Charms from the groceries Dad got us for the week; y'know, stupid kid stuff,” he chuckled. “But it’d been days. I was climbin’ the walls, (Y/N). I had to get some air. I went to an arcade to just… blow off some steam, I guess.

"When I came back, the thing was over Sammy’s bed. I was frozen. My dad came in and shot it a couple times, but it got away. Dad just... grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared; it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Y'know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask." He looked away from you attempting to swallow his emotions. "But he, ah, he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn't listen; I almost got Sammy killed.”

“Dee, you were a kid,” you said softly. He went to cut you off, but you stopped him. “No, let me talk. I know how that feels. My parents left me with Stevie all the time. I would've done the same thing you did. We were kids. We had to take on parental responsibilities. Anybody would be going stir crazy, especially at ten years old like you were.”

“(Y/N)—”

“No,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “You cannot blame yourself. I won’t let you. Would you let me?”

He shook his head.

“Exactly.”

He held your intense stare and rubbed a thumb over your hand. The two of you awkwardly pulled away from each other, and Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you, for, y’know—”

“Yeah, any time,” you said, walking him to the door. 

***

The next morning, you and Sam were teasing Dean about the old woman from the hospital the night before. You were headed to the car to go get some breakfast.

“ ‘I was sleeping with my peepers open’?” Sam laughed heartily, remembering the old woman's strange way of talking.

“I almost smoked that old girl, I swear. It's not funny!” Dean grunted.

“Oh man, you shoulda seen your face,” you giggled.

“Yeah, laugh it up. Now we're back to square one.” He looked over to the ten-year-old blond boy sitting on the bench behind his mother’s office. “Hang on.” He led you over to the child. “Hey, what's wrong?”

“My brother's sick,” he replied.

“The little guy?”

He nodded. “Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault.”

“Ah, c'mon, how?” You could tell Dean’s mind was racing just based on his tone.

“I should’ve made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't've got pneumonia if the window was latched,” the boy lamented.

You watched, frowningly thoughtfully, as Dean looked away from the boy. 

“Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault. Okay?” Dean assured him.

“It's my job to look after him,” the boy frowned, tearing up.

His mother hurried out of the motel toward her minivan. “Michael, I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms.”

“I'm going with you,” he protested.

“Not now, Michael.”

“But I gotta see Asher!”

Dean responded before his mother could. “Hey, Michael. Hey. I know how you feel— I'm a big brother, too— but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, ok?”

His mom dropped her handbag in haste, cursing under her breath. You rushed to pick it up for her.

“Listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital,” Dean offered.

“No, I couldn't possibly—” she answered.

“No, it's no trouble. I insist.”

Michael’s mother handed Dean the keys and thanked him before addressing her son. “Be good.”

Dean turned to you before he went over to the car. “We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?”

You and Sam watched Dean pull out of the motel parking lot, driving much more carefully than he ever did when you and Sam were in the car.

“C’mon,” you said. “You got the keys?”

“Yeah,” he threw them to you. “Where we goin’?”

“Wait, you’re letting me drive?” you asked Sam.

He shrugged. 

You squealed childishly and jumped into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t lie, you loved this car. You loved how the steering wheel felt in your hands and the way the engine rumbled. 

“Seriously, where we going?”

“The library,” you answered. “Town records, national records, internet, anything and everything. Dean wants this thing dead, and I intend to get it done tonight. And I gotta tell you, dude, something’s really bothering me about this whole thing. I mean, I never even formally went to nursing school, but I knew it couldn’t be pneumonia immediately. Why would pediatric doctors be unable to figure that out?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I get you. Something isn’t right.”

***

You and Sam poured through as many books you possibly could as quickly as you could. Sam was at his computer, scrolling with a furrowed brow when his phone rang. “ Hey. How's the kid?... We’re at the library. We've been trying to find out as much as we can about this shtriga… Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas around the time you said Dad was there?... Same deal.

"Before that, there was, uh, Ogdenville, before that, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years, it hits a new town. Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitzburgh. In all these other places, it goes on for months. Dozens of kids before the shtriga finally moves on. The kids just languish in comas, and then they die… Ah, I don't know. The earliest mention I could find is this  place called ‘Black River Falls’ back in the 1890s. Talk about a horror show.”

Your brain began to make connections between all of those events. “Wait, Sam, put Dean on speaker.” 

He did so.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me on this one. This could just be me spitballin’, but—”

“Just say it, (Y/N),” Dean said through the phone.

“I’ve been thinking, why wouldn’t Hydecker immediately rule out pneumonia? If he’s such a spectacular and caring doctor, why wouldn’t he know that pneumonia ups your white blood cell count; not depletes it? And the chance of all six kids having a pre-existing condition that lowers your WBC is incredibly low. I mean, why else wouldn’t he biopsy the kids?”

“Okay, WebMD, what does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked.

“I told you to stay with me.” You began typing in your computer searching for articles on the earliest case Sam had found in Black River Falls. “The point is, I think Hydecker’s our guy. Think about it— the center of the kidnappings is the hospital. And any pediatric doctor would be familiar with what pneumonia actually does to a kid’s body.” You smiled sourly at a photo you pulled up of doctors surrounding a child’s bed in 1893. You turned the computer around to Sam. “Boom.”

“(Y/N), that is huge.” He leaned over and lightly punched your shoulder. “Good going.”

“Thanks!” you grinned. “Dean, meet us back at the motel. Don’t deck the guy in the face, please. Not yet, anyway.”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Dean—”

“Fine.” He hung up the phone.

“Alright, we gotta get back before Dean explodes,” you told Sam. “Can I drive again?”

“Sure, why not. Just don’t tell my brother.” He tossed you the keys and you giggled.

***

“We should have thought of this before. A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing,” Sam said. 

You and the brothers were back in the motel room. 

Dean threw off his jacket and paced agitatedly. “That son of a bitch.”

“I'm proud of you for not drawing on him right there,” you said.

“Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.”

Sam nodded. “Good call.”

“Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing, ‘cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him on principle alone.”

Despite the situation, you found Dean aggressively grumbling about guns very attractive.

“You're getting wise in your old age, Dean,” Sam quipped.

“Damn right. 'Cause now I know how we're going to get it,” replied Dean.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Shtriga works through siblings, right?”

You knew what he was getting at. “No, Dean, I don’t like that.”

“What?” Sam asked, clearly not picking up where you and Dean were at.

“(Y/N)—”

“No, dude, we gotta get Michael out of here. I’m not letting you use him as bait.”

“Dean, what?! That’s out of the question!” Sam protested.

“It's not out of the question, Sam, it's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance.”

“Michael's a kid. And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook,” Sam scoffed. 

“Dad did not send me here to walk away.” Dean turned away from you and Sam and gripped the edges of the dresser.

“Send you here? He didn't send you here; he sent us here,” Sam replied.

“This isn't about you, Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me.”

“What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?” Sam paused, taking a moment to calm down. “Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on.”

Dean proceeded to explain what he had to you last night. Sam gave him the same lecture about how it wasn’t his fault, but Dean began to protest again. “Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it.”

You were surprised at the tough facade he gave his brother in contrast to the way he was vulnerable with you.

“But using Michael— I don't know Dean. I mean, how 'bout one of us hides under the covers, you know, we'll be the bait,” Sam tried.

“No, it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed— it'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid.”

***

Michael was completely against the idea and even threatened to call the cops on you. You and the boys returned to their motel room dejectedly.

“Well, that went crappy. Now what?” Dean groaned.

“What did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid,” the younger brother sighed.

There was a knock at the door, and you opened it to reveal Michael.

“Hey,” you said, surprised.

“If you kill it, will Asher get better?”

“Honestly? We don't know,” Dean told him.

“You said you were a big brother,” Michael started, “You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?”

“Yeah, I would,” Dean replied quietly. Your heart swelled at how much Dean and Sam cared for each other.

The young boy nodded. “Me, too. I'll help.”

Dean had hooked up a security camera to the boy’s room, and you and he watched the monitor closely. You were beginning to feel cross-eyed from how tired you were. It was around three in the morning, and your body protested against your will to stay awake.

“You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?” Sam asked his brother.

“Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah, it's what Dad used last time.”

“Hey, Dean? I’m sorry,” the younger brother said softly. “You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders. But I know why you do it.”

“Oh, god, kill me now,” Dean groaned.

You giggled to yourself, eyes returning to the screen. “Dean, look.”

There was a bit of movement off to the right of the screen outside of the window. You and the boys picked up your guns, holding them tightly and waiting for the right moment. 

“Now?” you asked.

“Not yet.”

The shtriga moved closer and leaned over the bed. You could see Michael tense under the covers and draw them closer to himself. The creature leaned over the bed, pushing the covers down. 

“Now?!”

“Now.”

You and the boys burst through the door and began to shoot the creature after Michael rolled away. It flew off Michael’s bed and fell to the side you couldn’t see.

“Mike, you alright?” Dean asked the kid.

“Yeah,” came his muffled reply from under the bed.

“Just sit tight.” Dean approached the shtriga, his gun at the ready. There was no movement for just a moment, before the shtriga shot up and grabbed Dean by his throat, throwing him across the room.

“Dean!” you cried, trying to run to him. The shtriga threw you to the side against Michael’s bed. Your back protested as you tried to roll and grab your gun that had fallen out of your hand in the chaos. You noticed the shtriga leaning over the top of the younger Winchester. Sam’s body went limp and began to go gray as the shtriga began to suck out his life force.

“Hey!” Dean gruffly spat. The shtriga turned to the older brother just to get shot straight between the eyes.

“Nice!” you said. You rushed to Sam’s side and smoothed a hand over his messy hair while he tried to catch his breath. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“You okay, little brother?” Dean called from behind you. You thought it was adorable how much he cared.

You and Sam stood and you tried to help hold the tall man up on his unsteady legs. You guided him over to the shtriga, and Dean shot it three times at point-blank range. The shtriga’s body fell in on itself, disintegrating.

You looked up at Dean, whose face was still set in hard lines.

“It's okay, Michael, you can come on out,” Dean told the boy peeking out from under his bed. He rose to stand beside you, smiling tentatively. Dean put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. You looked on, feeling your heart swell at what you knew was a full-circle moment for Dean. You knew these moments were few and far-between in a profession like yours, and you had learned to savor them in your memory.

***

You and the brothers returned to your rooms to pack now that the monster was dead. As usual, you were finished packing before the boys were and leaned against the Impala waiting for them.

You watched Michael’s mom’s car pull up in the motel parking lot. At that moment, the boys came out to join you.

“Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?” Dean asked the mother of the two boys.

“Have you seen Michael?” she asked him.

“Mom! Mom!” the child in question ran up and hugged him. “How's Ash?”

“Got some good news. Your brother's gonna be fine,” she smiled down at the boy.

“Really?” Michael grinned.

“Yeah. Really. No one can explain it; it's a miracle. They're going to keep him overnight for observation, and then, he's coming home.”

You smiled as Sam asked, “How are all the other kids doing?”

“Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town,” she explained.

“Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Hydecker?” you asked.

“Oh, he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something.”

You shot a knowing look to the boys.

“So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Joanna asked her son.

The boy looked to Dean before responding, “Nah, same old stuff.”

“Okay.” Joanna smoothed a hand over Michael’s blonde hair. “You can go see Ash.”

A wide grin spread across the boy’s face. “Now?!”

She nodded at her son, who ran into the car. “I, ah, I'd better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself,” she told you and the boys. The three of you watched as Joanna’s car pulled out of the parking lot. Sam and Dean turned to you and placed their bags in the trunk next to yours. 

“It's too bad,” said Sam.

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“That's not what I meant,” he shook his head. “I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark— he'll never be the same, you know?” He paused. “Sometimes I wish that....”

“What?” Dean questioned.

“I wish I could have that kinda innocence.”

Dean walked to the driver’s side door. He leaned on the roof of the car and said, “If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn

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[lailawinchesterr]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!