#dean winchester fanficiton

[jawritter]

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 6

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count:  2k

Prompt: First Christmas Together

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Feelings!!!

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

As holidays go… it really hasn't been a bad one. As of her holiday track history, that was really saying something. In fact, she can't remember the last time she'd laughed so much. 

It was easy, natural, having Dean here. Nothing like she thought it would have been the morning she found out he was coming. She just fell right in with the brothers in a way that surprised her, and Dean was a big part in that. She figured she would have been a third wheel to the men all weekend, but that was not the case. 

She was no idiot either. While she'd not gotten a chance to confront Sam face to face without Dean around concerning the nature of Dean's arrival for Christmas, she was pretty sure that judging by the subtle smiles and smirks she'd caught him making that every time Dean reached to touch her, that this is exactly why Sam wanted Dean here. He was trying to sit her up with his older brother. 

At first, she thought the idea nuts. Why the hell would Sam want her to hook up with Dean of all people?! But as the day drew to a close, and the food had been cooked, the kitchen cleaned, the impressive amount of alcohol drank, it seemed like he was trying his best to shove them together more and more. Even when they'd sat to watch a movie between rounds of Whiskey Poker, he'd made sure to take the only freestanding chair in the room, so that she would have no other choice than to sit next to Dean. 

"Okay, the two of you win!" Sam relented with a cough after he sat down the shot glass onto the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can't fucking drink anymore or I'm going to die of Alcohol poisoning."

"Oh come on Sammy," Dean chuckled, "don't be a bitch."

"No," Sam continued to cough, "I haven't gotten drunk enough to vomit sin—" 

Sam stopped mid sentence, as if he almost said something he would have regretted, but Dean was quick, and continued before Y/N could call out his bluff. 

"Since we had to stay at that old B&B we helped the mom and her daughter move out," Dean said. "God you were only in your, what, early, mid twenties?" 

Sam pulled the best bitchface she ever saw him accomplish, which only served to further amuse Dean. 

"Yeah, well at least I can even still get drunk," Sam fired back, and Dean snorted with indignation. 

"I can still get drunk," Dean argued, forgoing the shot glass and drinking straight from the bottle. 

Fuck she didn't know if it was the alcohol already coursing through her sex depraved system, but the way his plump, pink lips wrapped around the neck of that bottle has her shivering in her seat. God what she'd give to have his mouth on her. 

"Name the last time you were drunk?" Sam argued. "I don't mean baseline tipsy either, I mean passing out waisted."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he thought about that for a moment. 

"Exactly," Sam said after a moment, his chest puffed out, proud he'd proven his point. Goddamn lawyer. 

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" Dean insisted. 

Sam gestured widely to the room as if to say, well, we're waiting.

"It must have been the night Sarah di—"  Dean stopped, swallowing heavily, and Sam's face softened. "It must have been the night Sarah passed away," Dean willed himself to finish. 

"Who was Sarah?" Y/N questioned softly, and Dean jumped slightly as he turned his gaze to her with a clear of his throat. 

"She was my fiancé," he revealed to her with a sad smile. "She passed away from Pancreatic Cancer." 

"Fuck I'm so sorry Dean, I shouldn't have asked, I–" 

"It's okay," he quickly assured her by placing a heavy hand onto her thigh. "It was a while ago. Which stands to reason I'm not a complete drunk Sammy. It has been over a year since I got that drunk."

"Which only means what?" Sam recovered quickly. Y/N could see color rising in Sam's cheeks as Sam and Dean continued to banter back and forth. Y/N, on the other hand, felt very foolish, and just kept her mouth shut as she watched them. 

She had a tendency to put her foot in her mouth, always had, but she wished she would have never asked Dean who Sarah was. The look on his face when he said her name told her ALL she needed to know. He'd loved her. He wasn't interested in Y/N, it was a memory she couldn't compare too.

She felt like a fool to have thought that maybe Dean just might be interested in her, that Sam might be attempting to hook them up, or that Dean cared about her at all. It was nothing but a fantasy of a foolish girl. 

"Hey sweetheart, you okay? You're not gonna tap out on me too are you?" Dean questioned, and she did her best to smile at him through the tightness in her chest.

"No, I'm okay," she said, and he squeezed her thigh before taking another swig of the bottle in his hand. Sam was right. He was taking the stuff down as if it were water instead of almost 80 proof alcohol. She was pretty sure he couldn't get drunk anymore. If she had been drinking like that, super would have already made a famous reappearance. 

"Well, I'm drunk," Sam admitted, slapping his hand on his thigh dramatically. "I'm gonna go pass out because I haven't got the tolerance of Dean just yet. 

"And you never will," Dean shot back. 

"Bitch." 

"Jerk."

Sam staggered as he shot Dean the finger, and stumbled his way down the hallway.  Dean only snorted a laugh as he finished off the liquor bottle. 

"I didn't think he'd ever go to bed," Dean said, turning on the couch so that he was facing her. 

Y/N smiled at him a little, still caught in her own mind, and Dean seemed to sense it, because his face softened. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," Y/N insisted. 

"Then come here," Dean pressed. "It's cold in here, come sit with me." 

At first Y/N was hesitant, but after a moment, he looked so adorable sitting there with the blanket lifted as an invitation, she couldn't refuse. 

"There we go," Dean said confidently as he pulled her into his arms and settled the blanket around them. "For a minute I thought I said something wrong." 

"You didn't," Y/N insisted. "I just… ya know, don't want to cross any boundaries." 

"Boundaries?" Dean questioned. "No baby, you didn't. I'm sorry if I made you think that." 

"You didn't, and I don't want you to think that I was pressuring you to spend time with me either."

"You haven't pressured me to spend time with you hun, I'm here because I want to be here. I want to spend time with you." 

Y/N nodded and laid-back her head against Dean's chest.  He was so warm, solid. There was a security in the way his arm dropped over her waist, and laced their fingers together on top of her hand. She could have stayed there forever. Just like that. 

"Listen, don't let old ghosts ruin our night. Sarah and I… It was a long time ago." 

"It hasn't ruined anything Dean," she assured him. "You had a life before I moved in with Sam and you came down for Christmas. It's not like we're anything… ya know, other than maybe friends, and even if we were more than that I'm not going to hold something like that against you!" 

"You'd be surprised of the people that do," he admitted as he reached for the other open bottle on the table offering it to her, and she refused before he brought it up to his own lips. 

"Well, I'm not one of those people," she said. "In fact, I'd love to hear more about your life before, when you and Sam were traveling together."

Dean physical tensed behind her, and for a moment, she thought she'd fucked things up horribly.

"How much has he told you?" Dean questioned.

"Not a lot," she admitted as Dean took another deep pull from the bottle, and she turned slightly to watch him. 

She desperately wanted to tell him to put the bottle down. Stop hiding behind it. Stop using it to deal with the ‘ghost’ in his past, but that wasn’t her place. 

“There’s not much to tell really,” he deflected as he placed the glass bottle back onto the table, his pale green gaze flickering over every line of her face, ever freckle, every imperfection, but she couldn’t pull away if she wanted to, he was so breathtaking up close. It was startling. “Besides, I think I’d much rather focus on getting to know you, if that’s okay. I promise you, it’s much more interesting than any horror story I could tell you.”

“Who says it’s a horror story,” she countered, and he smirked at her as he raised his hand to trace the outer edge of her cheek and jaw, his eyes moving along with the moments. His touch was soft. As if she was some precious thing that he might break if he weren’t careful. She’d never been valued that way before, and it took her breath away from her, in just one simple touch.

“Because nothing I’ve lived through or done is worth looking back on when I have you laying right here with me. That’s a feeling I haven’t had in a long, long time.”

Dean’s movements were slow, calculated as he leaned forward, brushing her hair away from her face as his nose bumped hers, and his large hand carefully cradled her, lingering only a moment, only a heartbeat before he allowed his lips to brush over hers, testing the waters to see if she’d pull away, and when she didn’t, mostly because she was too caught up in the intoxicating feeling of it, the mean voices in her head finally silenced, he captured her lips in his own, breathing her in like a drowning man, desperate for another breath of air that only she could supply.

Read Chapter 7 HERE!!!

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[bunnysbrainrot]

Get Tagged in Future Posts!

Hi everyone! Our lil family has grown a lot recently, and so many of you have been consistently supporting my work. First, thank you so much! Your encouragement means more to me than you know.

Second, now that I'm writing more, if you'd like to be kept up to date on your favorite characters, please leave a comment below!

Simply list off your favorites, and I'll add you to the tag list.

Love you guys!

[castiel-is-pimp]

looking for co-writers and just people to work with and bounce ideas around with in the circles of supernatural fanfiction lol.

just a small group? like 4-6 people? to start with, and we'll see how it goes.

I have a lot of ideas, i just don't know what to do with them. (a whole google doc that's like 3 pages lmao). I don't have much on ao3, but hoping to put more out there ^^

my discord is castiel_is_pimp and so is my ao3. if you're struggling with your works too, I'm happy to help (:

[spnisthewayoflife]

SPNAUBINGO

Title: The Bodyguard Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52655695 *Square Filled: Bodyguard AU Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester Warnings: None Summary:

SPNAUBingo Prompt - Bodyguard AU

Dean Winchester. Singer, actor, and all-round pain in Castiel Novak's ass.

When Castiel took the job of head of security for Dean Winchester six years earlier, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. From the moment Dean Winchester walked onto the set, it was clear that their personalities clashed like oil and water. Castiel's meticulous attention to detail clashed with Dean's devil-may-care attitude, creating a constant source of frustration for both of them.

Word Count: 3,353 *Written/Created for @spnaubingo

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Famous Dean Winchester, Former Army Service Member Castiel (Supernatural), Bodyguard, Dean Winchester is a pain in Castiel's ass

[lachelledavies-winchester]

When they settled down, Lachelle was thoughtful and Dean looked at her worriedly. "Did I say something you didn't mean?"

"I'm not one of your wenchs."

"I never thought that, you said..."

"I mean I'm probably ten times worse, but I don't care, in bed I have to have fun, it doesn't affect who I am. The point is that this family situation I've never had and I don't want to risk losing it by doing my usual messing around. Besides, I want to die as a 50-year-old single milf, sipping a glass of wine and making out a delivery boy bringing me sushi."

"Granted that you make even being a spinster sexy, I don't understand what you're getting at."

"That maybe I could consider being good friends and give us a hand when we need it and ... the rest when we feel like it." she said looking into his eyes to observe the reaction well. "You can count on me as having a sister, but you and I have to have sex."

"I am strangely very, very much in agreement with you."

"Protected, no implications, no exclusivity, only we know. What do you think?"

"You have my word."

"And don't you dare change your attitude with me, fall asleep in my bed or anything else that I haven't first approved after your motion, like a Parliamentary Monarchy." she said between pragmatic and joking.

"Affirmative your Grace, yes sir--Roger Wilco, Houston we have a problem, Five by five, hoist the flag, everybody to port," Dean continued, playing the fool to make her laugh.

"Idiot. I have books to put away, see you."

[just--emerald]

Castiel's faith in humanity is put to the ultimate test when he is tossed out of Heaven by his power-crazed brother and forced to live life as a human.

Dean Winchester is a faithless man, wholly unprepared for the angel that falls from the sky and lands right on his doorstep

[horse-and-writer97]

Horse-and-Writer97′s Master List

Updated: 1/19/2023

Note: some fics are linked to my side blog @horse-and-writer97-sideblog, all fics from now on will be posted to this account. Yay. I’m excited and nervous. 

While I may not be new to writing, I am new to posting what I’ve written. Here’s the complete list of my posted works.

Note: I’ll hopefully be adding to this blog very soon and posting more and more. Tips are welcomed. Anyone wishing to be tagged in any future works needs only ask.

Another Note: please DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. I can't believe I have to say that but with how much I've been seeing lately I'll add that. Reblog away but please ask me before reposting. I'm more than happy to talk to people and this is a friendly space here but every content creator should get a choice on how and where their content is shared! (AI I'm looking at you)

Wattpad: HorseandWriter97

AO3: Horse_and_Writer97

My Hero Academia:

Eijiro Kirishima: 

Series:

[Title TBD]: Kirishima x OC!Sora: *coming soon*

One-Shots:

I Run To You: Kirishima x F!Reader: *coming soon*

Naruto: 

Kakashi Hatake:

One-Shots:

Confession: Kakashi x OC!Kaede

Dean Winchester: 

One Piece:

One-Shots:

*coming soon*

Supernatural: 

Series:

These Aren’t My Woods: Dean Winchester x OC!Charlie: updated version on wattpad

Last Updated:  2/11/19; On Hiatus

Marvel: 

Spider-Man/Peter Parker:

Series: 

Silver Spark: Peter Parker x OC!Reader: updated version on wattpad

Last Updated: 11/13/19; On Hiatus

Original Creations:

Casey/FireBird:

One-Shots:

Burn the Past: 300 words, short story, fantasy/fiction

Created: 4/22/16

[ghoastixx]

you know the episode French Mistake? What if Dean and Sam get sent to the real world and find out their sister is dating someone else in the cast? Like Misha? Idk I just came up with this

The French Mistake

synopsis above

Notes: I literally LOVE episodes that I just get to copy the show and throw little old us in. It's so fun to write. I loved writing the mystery spot one, hoping this one is just as fun.

Author's note: Wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be transported with sam and dean or not, but for the sake of this being more interesting to read and not just an episode of Supernatural, you get to teleport too. Made the reader Gender Neutral. R/N stands for "real name"

Warning: Spoilers for the end of The Godfather. Cas (Misha Collins) x reader kind of?????????)

For the sake of legality, I do not own the universe, plot, or characters of Supernatural. I am a mere fanficiton author.

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

It was a nice afternoon..quiet..not a hunt for once.. a minute to breathe. You were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Bobby. Dean was at the table, Bobby out and about. Sam walked into the room.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Supply run," You yawned, responding to your brother Sam.

"In this?" Ah yes, the disaster you were in. You had almost forgotten. A shame you hadn't. Dean turned to look at your brother,

"Yeah, man's a hero. We were officially out of hunter's helper." The alcohol had run dry.

"Hello Winchester's. You've seen 'The Godfather' right?" A voice that didn't belong to any of you pulled you away from the dry conversation.

"Balthazar."

"You know the end, where Micheal Corleone sends his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop?" Balthazar was now messing with things. Pouring salt into a bowl on one of Bobby's desks. You sat up, ultimately confused as your brothers were seething.

"Hey!' Dean yelled,

"'Dead Sea Brine.' Good, good, good. You know, Moe Green gets it in the eye, and Don Cueno gets it in the revolving door?" what was even happening.

"I said 'hey!'"

"You did. Twice. Good for you." Balthazar started going through the fridge. "Blood of lamb.. beer, cold pizza, blood of lamb- yes! blood of lamb!"

You perked up, "Why are you talking about 'The Godfather?'"

"Because we're in it- right now, tonight. And in the role of Micheal Corleone- the archangel Raphael!"

"You mind telling us what you mean?" Dean barked

"no, no, no, no, no, no no." You rolled your eyes. "Yes. Bone of a lesser saint. This vertebra will do very nicely. You're Mr.Singer does keep a beautiful pantry." You looked down at the contents of Bobby's drawer which was now on the floor.

"Raphael is after you?" Dean asked. Sam was awfully quiet."

"Raphael is after all of us." He corrected, ""You see. he's consolidated his strength, and now he's on the move."

"And where's Cas?" Sam finally asked, which grabbed your attention. You missed the angel. He was your friend.

"Oh, Cassie? He is deep, deep underground. So, good old Raffy put out a hit list on every Samaritan who helped our dear Cas- including both of you. And so much more importantly, me. See, he wants to draw Cas out into the open." This made you frown. The thought of Cas having basically ruined his life.

"And you expect us just to believe you?" Sam asked, "Oh. Don't. You'll go where I throw you either way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean was defensive and Sam was tense. You were trying to piece everything together.

"That's all the time we have Winchesters." He opened his jacket to reveal a wound.. he was bleeding pretty badly. You jumped up to retrieve the first aid kit, or more so what was left of it. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

There was some commotion behind you before there was a blinding light and the words that would ring through your ears "RUN." You were shoved through a window with your brothers.

When you opened your eyes it was so bright.. "Cut!" Suddenly there were people helping you up. Dean and Sam were also up and looked equally as confused. You looked over to see someone patting Dean's ass which made you cringe. You looked around. it looked like a t.v set of Bobby's house.

"Jared, Jensen, R/N! Outstanding! That was just great!" The Winchesters all looked at each other with shared confusion which made others around you giggle.

"'Supernatural,' scene one echo, take one. Tail slate. Marker!"

"What happened," Sam muttered, looking around.

"No angels?" You mumble

"No angels." Dean confirms. "I think."

There were people arguing about a scene, about how they 'jumped through the window.'

"What is even happening," You ask out loud,

"No idea." Sam replies. Dean picks up a piece of "window" which is really just fake. The other people keep arguing.

"Jared! Three minutes, okay!" Someone grabbed Sam by the hand, dragging him away.

"Jensen! There you are, let's get you in the chair." Someone drags Dean away.

"R/N," A voice came from behind one of the cameras. A man in a cardigan and a t-shirt underneath. He came up to you, smiling wide. "that was a really good shot, honey. Whenever everyone was reminiscing on Cas? Real heart tugger."

"Cas..?" This man looked so much like..well. A normal Castiel.

"yeah- are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head during the stunt?" You then spotted Sam.

"Uh- I have to go!"

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

"Dude, they put freakin' makeup on us! Those Bastards!" Dean complained, practically clawing at his skin.

"Look, I think I know what this is,"

"Okay. What?"

"It itches-"

"It's a T.V. show-" As Sam and Dean pondered, you couldn't help but glance at the "normal Cas" that was talking to one of the guys.. this was.. awful.

"We- we landed in some dimension where you're Jensen Ackles." He pointed at Dean. "You're R/N" He points at you. "And I'm Jared Padalecki,"

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

The three exited the studio, you looked around in awe as Dean spotted the car.

"Oh, hey. Least my baby made it." You looked over to witness someone flinging mud onto it and the pained look on your brother's face.

"Hey. Hey! What-" There are three more impalas. "I'm gonna be sick. I want to go home. I feel like this whole place is bad-touching me." You nod in agreement as Sam agrees.

"yeah, I know. Me too. So, what do you think? Cas?"

You perk up, "Oh! I talked to a guy who looked like him earlier." You start to look around,

"So he's run his ass away from heaven here?" Dean spots him.

"cas? Cas! Hey, Cas! Oh, thank god. What is all this, huh? W-what did Balthazar do to us?"

The man you spoke to earlier approached, he looks stern. Like the Castiel you know. It made something in your chest tighten. "To keep you out of Virgil's reach, he's cast you into an alternate reality, a universe similar to ours in most aspects yet dramatically different in others."

"Like- like Bizarro earth, right? Except instead of having Bizarro Superman, we get this clown factory." The Cas looks a little confused.

"Um...Yeah, well...Anyway, no time to explain. Do you have the key?" You tilt your head, but Sam pulls out a key.

"So, uh, what does this thing do, anyways?"

"It opens a room."

"What's in this room?" You ask

"Every weapon Balthazar stole from heaven."

"he gave it to us?" Dean asks, almost hesitantly.

"To keep it safe until I could reach you. With those weapons, I have a chance to rally my forces."

You sigh relief, "Oh. Okay. good. Yeah, so now.. uh, what's the deal with all this T.V. crap?" Sam asks, a bit annoyed.

"pardon?" The Cas's brow furrows

"Yeah. Amen, Padaleski." You nod as Dean says this.

"Uh, 'Lecki'" Sam corrects.

"What?" Dean mutters,

"Lecki. Pretty sure."

The Cas pulled out a packet of papers, "Man. Did they put out new pages?" He mutters.

"New what?"

"I mean, is this some kind of cosmic joke?" You ask the Cas who looks up at you with an almost hurt expression.

"yeah, 'cause if it is, it's stupid and we don't get it." Dean backed you up. Sam agreed.

"Are you guys okay?" The Castiel imposter asked. Dean grabbed the supposed script from him, flipping through it.

"Give me that. What is- these are words in a script. This isn't Cas." You chest tightens again as hope drains from your face.

"Dude, look at him." Sam mumbles as the imposter unbuttons his shirt, wearing a graphic t-shirt underneath it.

"You guys want to run lines, or..?"

Dean reads the script. "His name's Misha..Misha?"

"Oh wow.."

"Just great-" The imposter looks at you again, he's only looking at you with these mixed expressions of deeper confusion. Dean continues rambling.

"Misha? Jensen? R/N? Whats up with the names around here?" As soon as Dean says this, "Misha" laughs a bit.

"You guys! You really punked me! Im totally gonna tweet this one." He pulls out a phone.

"What's a tweet," You whisper-ask Sam as "Misha" starts to read out loud.

"Hola mishamigos. J-squared...got me good."

"I just want to dig my finger in my brain and scratch until we're back in Kansas."

All three Winchesters begin to walk away before "Misha" yells. "Hold on, R/N! Are you still on for dinner tonight!?" You feel your cheeks start to red a bit as Dean and Sam look at you.

"Er- might have to reschedule-" You yell back as you turn away and quickly leave.

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

You all huddled into "Jensen Ackles" trailer. He had awful taste.. you all began to do research on yourselves. Jensen and Jared are interesting. Models and TV stars. They get to you.

"R/N.. Says here that you.. you were an actor. Also-" Sam looks up, glancing at Dean and then back at you. "You're also dating a Misha Collins." Your jaw drops.

"No way! Fake Cas!?" Dean exclaims, "That's probably why he asked you about dinner-" You bury your face in your hands. Sam clears his throat.

"Y/N, is there something you have to tell us..?"

"No!"

As Dean and Sam continue to talk about how they could possibly get out of here, you take the computer.. looking at pictures of you and Misha.. you two look happy together.. your chest tightens again.

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

You were all losing hope as everything you tried was failing. All the ingredients Balthazar had used were now rubber.. the Impala was a prop.. nothing was working. So now you were trying to figure out what to do next.

"Me? Yes. um. I- I'll just tag along with uh-" Dean stuttered around. Misha and a crew member where standing in front of you.

"Jared."

"Jared...Jared here."

"Huh- since when are you guys talking?" The crew member asks as Misha looks at you,

"So..busy tonight?" You bite the frown that wants to crawl onto your face. You would like to have dinner with him, but you cannot just abandon your brothers for a man you don't even know.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Gonna work with Jared and..Jensen."

"I didn't know you guys were getting along again."

"Ah- you know...the way we are.."

"Well, call me if you need me to come get you," He kissed your cheek before leaving. You glanced at Sam and Dean as your face was red.

"I'll kill him." Dean muttered.

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Turns out Jared is filthy rich and is dating Ruby of all people. She seems a bit surprised to see you and Dean in the mansion. Saying neither of you have ever been there. She seems.. defensive. You all hole up in the library of the mansion and order stuff you need. The next day, you all go to the set of Bobby's house with a solution in mind and get permission to have the set cleared for a few hours.

When you and Sam show up to see cameras, you almost wanna vomit as Dean looks sheepishly away. He did not infect get the set cleared and the Misha guy was back. So.. you all have to do a little bit of acting. You're all awful at it.

Hours seemed to have passed and the Misha guy is still "tweeting" whatever that is. Then the day is over and you're all sent away again.. That was after you all attacked what you thought was Virgil.

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

The rest of the experience was all hazy to you. The Misha guy had ended up taking you back to your trailer and giving you some pills and that was all you really remembered. Sam and dean tried to explain how you got back, but it didn't make much sense to you. Not that you cared much anymore. There were more important things to focus on!

But Dean and Sam never let go the Misha guy, insisting something was going on between you and Castiel. You insisted there wasn't...

But..maybe the next time you saw Castiel..maybe you could pretend he was the Misha guy for just a minute longer.

(I'm sorry this ended so abruptly and lame. I worked on this for two hours and honestly didn't know how to finish it I'm sorry!!!)

[stusbunker]

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls​ for all her help on this series.

       Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement. 

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards. 

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job. 

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls. 

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes. 

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion. 

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?" 

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer. 

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

    Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

    The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

    Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash. 

    “Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

    “Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

    “You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

    Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

    “It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

    Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

    Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically. 

    “Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

    “That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

    “Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

    “You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in. 

    Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

    “Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

    “Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

    It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot. 

    “You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry. 

    “Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly. 

    “Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel. 

    The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo. 

    “Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

    Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs. 

    “Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

    Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

    Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

    Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

    “We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

    “What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

    “True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

    “We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

    “I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

    Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

    Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

    Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

    “Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

    “Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

    After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?” 

    “Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

    “I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

    Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

    “I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

    Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

    Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

    “You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

    “You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

    “It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered. 

    Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

    Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

    Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

    “Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

    “Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

    Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

    “And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

    “We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

    “I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

    The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw. 

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in. 

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva​​ @dolphincliffs​​ @dontshootmespence​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​ @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​ @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja​​ @defenderrosetyler​​ @ericaprice2008  @crashdevlin​​  @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary​​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​​ @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6​ @cracksinthewalls​​ @atc74​​    

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Next Chapter: Giving Up

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 16

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, and the beginnings of some changes...

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​���​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

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Sam was home… with Eileen… Tense wasn’t the appropriate wording really, but Y/N didn’t have an adequate vocabulary to describe the atmosphere in the bunker. In fact, the moment the heavy metal door closed behind them as they descended the iron staircase; Dean’s countenance changed, and the atmosphere shifted. That was three weeks ago; it had not gotten any better, and as far as Y/N could tell it wasn’t going to anytime soon. 

The only time Dean came out of his own room was to go to the kitchen to eat something, even though most of the time Y/N just brought it to him, or to go to the bathroom. If he had to do physical therapy, he’d come to the gym. Other than that, he stayed far away from Sam and Eileen. At first, Y/N didn’t understand why he was avoiding him. Sam and Dean had gotten into their fair share of spats over the years, but never had they gotten into something like this; or at least not in a long, long time. 

She knew Dean was angry with Sam, he’d made that point VERY clear the night Sam had left the bunker to go with Eileen on that hunt, but she didn’t realize he was that angry… Until she realized he wasn’t angry at all…

Y/N had gotten up early one morning about a week ago to grab herself and Dean some coffee before they started to work on his physical therapy for the day, when she heard Sam and Eileen sitting in the library scouring the internet in search of cases. It hit her then just why Dean was hiding away the way he was; he didn’t want to see it. Sam was hunting, actively hunting with Eileen, and Dean could no longer do it. Dean wasn’t mad, he was hurt.  

It wasn’t even that Sam really did anything, Eileen either. It was the fact that Dean felt useless, like he served no other purpose than to be a burden to Y/N and everyone else around him. Even though Y/N didn’t see Dean as a burden at all. She’d said it before and she’d ment it. It was a damn HONOR to take care of Dean. Dean himself could not stomach watching his brother do what he once did, and was now ripped away from him. It was all he’d known, now that was gone, and it just drove that useless feeling even deeper. 

The biggest problem was Y/N didn’t know what to do about it, or how to fix it. 

Sam hadn’t really helped in that aspect either. All he said to her was when Dean was ready, he’d talk to him, until then he wasn’t going to twist his arm and push him, and to Y/N that was bullshit. He could have at least extended a hand;let Dean know that he wasn’t useless. Better yet, he could have at least been honest with his brother that he was hunting again, and if he’d been honest from the beginning, things might not have escalated the way that they did. 

Physically, Dean was doing better. A lot better. He no longer needed her help doing basic, everyday things. He could now bathe himself, and make his own food, when he wanted too. He could even walk now without the aid of holding onto the wall, or needing someone to help him go long distances or needing to take a break. 

The only time you’d know something happened to Dean, was in the morning, when he first got out of bed, he was still slow, and at night, when it was time to go back to bed, his body started to hurt and slow down. That, or by that time Dean had just grown weary from hiding the fact that he was hurting all day long, and the truth had started to show itself… either way, with Dean, that was hard to tell. All she could do was trust that he was being honest with her about his pain level. 

He still couldn’t run a marathon, and probably never would be able to, but he was slowly becoming Dean again. Dean being who he was, had put a good bit of distance between Y/N and himself. Which is what she feared most through all of this. It was the uncertainty of what would happen  when he got better and didn't need help anymore. He still wanted to cuddle with her at night when they were held up in the Dean cave watching TV, or in his room; depending on how bad he felt that night. He still wanted her somewhat close to him whenever he could, but he was quiet. He wasn’t asking for help anymore. He always tried to do it himself, and he always made sure to be out of bed before she was in the morning. There was a distance growing between them, and she hated it; but she didn’t know what to do about it. 

Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she knew that he was just trying to get some independence back, but it still scared the hell out of her all the same.

Just this morning, she figured she’d see him in the gym or the kitchen when she climbed out of bed, and padded her way down the hallway; but all she found was Sam and Eileen making breakfast in the kitchen, and Sam informing her that he heard the Impala start up early that morning. 

Dean would sometimes climb in Baby and go for a drive, but he usually always invited her to join him, he rarely ever just got up and left, leaving her behind. Mostly because he still wasn’t confident enough to venture out by himself in the event he started to hurt too bad to drive back.

“I’m sure he will be back soon,” Eileen said, seeing Y/N’s crest fallen face as the reality that he really didn’t need her anymore started to set in. “All he had in his hand when he left was his keys and his cell phone.”

“You saw him?” Sam questioned, and Eileen nodded. “I was on my way to the kitchen when he left about two hours ago.”

Sam’s mouth tightened to a thin line as Y/N poured her coffee; doing her best to ignore the tight, uneasy feeling that was creeping up in her chest. 

“Well, apparently he’s feeling better,” Sam said after a moment. 

Y/N bit back the comment that probably would have sounded a whole lot like, “yea, no thanks to your ass.” 

“He is,” she voiced instead. “He probably just didn’t want to wake me up, Eileen is right, he’ll be back in a little while.”

Without another word, Y/N turned to leave the kitchen, and the happy couple behind her, when Dean rounded the corner, scaring the crap out of her and Eileen, who was standing closer  to the door of the kitchen than Sam. 

“Fuck,” Y/N breathed as she jumped backwards, somehow managing to not spill her coffee on ether her or Dean, Dean smirked, a mischievous look on his handsome face. God she didn’t realize how she missed that look until she saw it again for the first time in a long time. It still made her stomach flip excitedly just as it did the night she’d met him. God she was a goner! This man owned her. 

“What’s the matter princess, not used to me being able to move this fast?” Dean teased, ignoring Sam and Eileen all together as he threw his arm around Y/N’s shoulders, and steered her towards his room. 

“No, not really,” she admitted, “but I’m glad to see it.”

Dean shrugged, “I have my moments.” 

Y/N repressed the sudden urge to point out that he’d been apparently having more moments than he allowed her to be aware of; seeing as he kept disappearing lately, but kept her insecurities to herself, because she didn’t want to look weird, or fuck up any progress he might have been making. 

“I know it’s early,” Dean continued, not even breaking stride as he pushed the door open to their shared bedroom, “but I need you to shotgun that coffee, and get dressed; I have something I want to show you.”

She had not seen him THIS excited, in well, forever, and it got her curiosity humming like it never had before. Dean got excited about VERY little lately.

“What are you up to Dean’?” Y/N questioned, as he virtually started pulling her clothing out of her dresser drawer and laying them on the bed for her in order to make her hurry, it honestly made her chuckle, it was cute to see him this happy. 

“You’ll see! Just hurry up and meet me at the car,” Dean said as he hurried for the door, his footsteps echoing down the hallway towards the garage as he went. 

Y/N shook her head with a stupid smile on her face as she pulled her shirt off, and replaced it with the hoodie Dean had left on the bed for her. 

Honestly, he could ask her for anything and she’d agree to it with the way he was acting right now, it was refreshing from all the pain and hurt he’d been through to see a smile on his face. Whatever it was that he’d found or come up with, even if it was another woman; which her insecurities were screaming at her it was. She’d support him, because even if it hurt her, it made him happy, and seeing him smile again was all she could ask for right at that moment. So much so she’d sacrifice her own happiness, just to see his. 

Logically, Dean was not taking her to meet his new girlfriend at 8 in the morning, but there was always a nagging voice in her head that told her things like this; things that would keep her up at night when Dean was sound asleep next to her. 

So she shook it off, and tied the laces up on her boots, seeing as it was a frigid 18 degrees  Fahrenheit out there; completely forgetting her coffee as she started to make her way towards the garage with her heart pounding in her ears, and her hands shaking with a mixture of excitement, and fear. Because she had a feeling that whatever Dean had that he wanted to take her to or show her, it was going to change things for them;  possibly forever. 

The worry she was feeling melted away though, as soon as she saw him posted against Baby’s shining hood, phone in hand; that same stupid smirk she loved so much plastered on his face that turned into a full fledged grin as he looked to see her approaching, and hurried around to open the passenger door for her to slide into Baby’s warm interior. 

“Will you at least tell me where we’re going, Winchester?” Y/N questioned as Dean slid into the passenger seat, and put her into drive as the garage doors opened in front of him. 

“Lawrence, but that’s all I’m telling you for now, the rest you will have to wait and see,” he beamed at her, and she just laughed and shook her head. 

This was going to be a long three-hour drive…

Forever:

@britnwinchester​​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​

@jensenslady79​​

@spnwoman​​

@stoneyggirl2​​

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men​​

@stixnstripesworld​​

@fullwattpadmusictree​​

@nancymcl​​

@christycreature​​

@whiskey-infused-dreams​​

@supernatural79impala​​

@deandreamernp​​

@forgetthisbull​​

@miraclesoflove​​

@slamminmine​​

@deanwanddamons​​

@rvgrsbrns​​

@chevyharvelle​​

@i-love-superhero-movies​​

@lyss-dw79​​

@magssteenkamp​​

@lemondropirwin​​

@squirrelnotsam​​

@hobby27​​

@spnbaby-67​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​

@defenderrosetyler​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​  

@vicmc624​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​

@justanotherwinchester​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​

@idksupernatural​​

@lyarr24​​

@emoryhemsworth​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​

@flamencodiva​​

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies​​

@teresa-67​​

@hearteyes-j2​​

@peaches007​​

@bobbie3939​​

@vulgar-library​​

@writercole​​

@fairlyspnfanfic​​

@sexyvixen7​​

@spngi​​

@b3autyfuldisast3r​​

@donnaintx​​

@maliburenee​​

@the-family-business67​​

@agirlwithdemonblood​​

@captainsoldiergirl​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​  

@impalaslytherin​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​

@akshi8278​​

@love-jackles​​

@irmcpar​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​​

@herstarburststories​​

@mimaria420​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​

@charred-angelwings​​

@pascal-rascal424​​

@myloversgone​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​

@eevvvaa​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​

@jxackles

@lassie-bird​​

@samsgirl93​​

@shawnie74​​  

@kaz11283​​

@mlovesstories​​

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej​

[thewolfswriting]

The Dangers Of A Demon Chapter 4

Pairings: Demon Alpha!Dean x Katarina Morgan (Omega OC)

Word count: 2,136

Chapter Warnings: Profanity, Knotting, Oral, Dub-Con 18+ content just don’t read if you’re a minor

Taglist: @charmed-asylum​

Divider By: @firefly-graphics

"Y-you claimed me! Why? Why would you do that?!" She screamed at the demon with tears and in horror.

The cramps and pain that came with her heat were gone. That she was grateful for but she didn't expect to be claimed by anybody, and that included a demon Alpha.

"Yeah, you see, that's what happens after an Alpha knots an Omega. We both know you already knew that." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in his voice.

She touched the fresh bite on her neck and winced "I didn't want to be claimed." She sobbed "You claimed me on purpose."

He shrugged "If that's what you wanna think and  just because I claimed you don't mean I still won't kill you."

That didn't make the situation any better. However, only part of her wished he would kill her but only for the fact that she's been claimed by an Alpha that's a demon. But if he knew that he would just draw it out even longer.

---

"S-sheriff Morgan, sir? There's a guy here. He's here to see you."

Sheriff Morgan cocked an eyebrow "About?"

"He says he's here about the three Omega cases and his brother. He didn't tell me his name but he insisted on seeing you."

While confused, sheriff Morgan strutted towards his office to see someone sitting in front of his desk he hadn't seen in a long time "Sam Winchester. Haven't seen you in a long time. What can I do for you?"

"It's not about what you can do for me. It's about what I can do for you. I know your daughter is missing and I'm assuming Dean is here somewhere."

"Yes, he's here. He is also responsible for the three Omega's that are now dead. Sam, he has my daughter."

"I know."

"How so?"

"I know my brother better than anybody. Once he found out Katarina's your daughter, it became a game to him. It makes the kill more interesting." Even though Sam's tone showed sympathy, he also stated facts.

"Do you have an idea where he might've taken her?"

"Somewhere nobody can find her. We find her, we find Dean. I already interviewed someone, a guy named Tony."

"Yeah, Tony owns the diner outside of town."

Sam opened his notepad "He said there a scent he smelled. The kind of smell when an Omega goes into heat. He smelled it a few miles from the diner two night before"

Of course sheriff Morgan felt the fear he was dreading. The fear of his daughter going into heat with the man that kidnapped her and is going to kill her.

The words Dean said to him instantly replayed in his head "I can wait until she goes into heat, take what I want and then kill her"

He was beginning to lose the hope he had held onto since Katarina went missing. But now that Sam came into town, that hope instantly came back "Looks like we have our first lead."

"Looks like it."

---

Dean's claim mark on Katarina's neck still throbbed with pain even though it was half-healed. Once completely healed it would scar and she knew that. She tried not to make any sound of pain but no matter how hard she tried, he would hear it anyway.

The thought of trying to escape again crossed her mind. The stabbing with the knife, she could try that again, instead of stabbing him once she could stab him twice or three more times. But he heals quickly. So there goes that idea.

She remembered the window in the bathroom, so the idea of climbing out racked her brain. Only if she tried, surely he would hear her and catch her like last time.

Until he kills her, she's trapped.

---

The sound of the ax splitting the wood is what helped Dean somewhat get rid of his anger. For two days he's had to listen to her whimpering and sobbing of pain. All because of the claim mark that's currently half-healed on her neck.

For the most part he ignored it. But then eventually he got pissed at her and would yell at her. Even told her he would "rip out her vocal cords, then she wouldn't be able to make any noise"

"Omega's really can't handle pain." He said to himself

In some ways, Dean thought it was stupid of him to claim her. But most of it was out of Alpha instinct. He was able to control it with the other three Omega's and the others before them. With her, he couldn't help himself.

He should've just killed her after he knotted her. At least he wouldn't have any more visits from Crowley.

---

"Good evening, Dean."

"Damn it, Crowley! What do you want now?!"

"The Omega, she still alive I presume?"

"Like I've said I'm-"

"Dragging it out yes, I know" Crowley interrupted "It's been nearly a week, Dean. Never have you once dragged a kill out this long."

"What's your point?"

"Tell me, did you knot her like you did all the other Omega's before you killed them? Did you claim her too?" He took a step toward the demon.

"So what if I did? Just because I claimed her doesn't mean I still won't kill her."

"Alphas don't kill their mates. But like you just said, just because you claimed her doesn't mean you won't kill her. Now, get the job done."

---

When Dean came back inside the cabin Katarina was already asleep. He sat on the little stool in front of the fireplace and stacked the logs to build a fire. At least the smell of the burning wood would help mask her intoxicating scent that still clung in the air of the cabin.

Before crawling in next to her he removed every bit of clothing. He laid down next to her for what seemed like hours. Mostly, he watched her sleep. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He could still smell her scent. The blanket, the bed, the whole cabin smelled like her. The only other scent he could smell mixed with her's was his own.

The longer he laid there and took in her sleeping form the more her scent got to him. While scooting closer to her he ghosted his lips along the side of her neck and over the mark, taking a moment for his tongue to lick over the wound. As she rolled over on her back she whimpered and a low growl rumbled from his chest.

Gently he pulled her shirt over her head and began pressing kisses down her naked chest and down her stomach. Unbuttoning her jeans he ever so slowly dragged them down her legs with her panties. She moaned in her sleep as the Alpha spread her thighs and pressed open-mouthed kisses on her skin along the inside of her thighs. He wanted to bite her, give her another claim mark that wasn't on her neck. But he held back, he didn't want to wake her up that way.

Just as he suspected, she was already slick from basically doing nothing to her. He took his index finger and dragged it along her wet slit and up towards her clit, her hips jerking at the contact.

"Dean?" The Omega's eyes fluttered open even though she was still half asleep. She looked down just in time to see Dean's eyes on her as his tongue pushed between her folds "What-"

She tried to pull away from him, but his arms tightening around her thighs halted her protest "Shh it's okay 'mega. Alpha just wants to make you feel good."

Finally, his tongue sought out her sensitive, pulsating clit. Still, he kept his eyes on her, watching her expression as he gave her a solid lick against her bud before closing his lips around the oversensitive spot.

It was different when she wasn't in heat. Well, to her it was anyway. When she was in heat she couldn't control the waves of pleasure he gave her, or the intoxicating scent of her arousal her body radiated. But it seemed like it didn't matter whether she was in heat or not, her inner Omega couldn't deny the physical pleasure he was now giving her. But still, the shame was there.

Dean growled against her as he continued to work on her cunt, his tongue sliding down to her opening and collected some of her slick. Her wet walls clenched around nothing as he pulled back "Taste just as good as the first time."

A smirk spread across the Alpha's face when her hips bucked against him. He knew exactly what she needed. Without warning two fingers entered her now swollen, soaked cunt, instantly finding that sweet, sensitive spot deep inside her. Her breaths became raspy as he lazily twisted and turned the two fingers that currently occupied her inner walls. He turns his attention back to her clit, moving his head from side to side and his fingers quickened their pace against the spot inside her.

"That's it, cum for me 'mega" He says as her breathing grew raspy.

Soon she's screaming from the sheer force of her orgasm that crawled through her veins. Like last time he continued to finger and lick her until her body shudders against him. Only this time, she didn't have to beg him to stop.

"Need you on my cock, "mega!" He sits back, hauling her onto his lap, and arranged her legs on either side of his hips.

The swollen head of his cock pressed at her slit. She was still sore from when he gave her his knot two nights ago and because of that, she panicked. With her hands on his shoulders, she attempted to push herself off of him, but the vice-like grip on her hips by his hands tightened to keep her still.

"Dean, wait! I'm so-" Her words were cut off by a hand shooting up and wrapping around her throat.

"Remember what happens if you don't?" He snarled at her.

With his hand still around her throat, she managed to nod her head rapidly.

The panic only ignited in her more when he lifted his hips to push the first inch inside her. Just like last time, he was met with resistance, only this time, it was more of a struggle due to her walls being so swollen. She yelped as Dean slipped the thick head of his cock past her folds. The Demon grunted as he pushed in another three, her tight, aching ring of muscles clenched around him.

He placed a hand between them to rub her still sensitive bud in circles "C'mon 'mega. Open that pretty little pussy up for me."

Between the contact of his thumb on her clit and his words laced with lust, she opened up for him. Once he was finally able to slide the rest of the way in she clamped around him so hard it almost hurt. Her insides felt like they were on fire.

"Hold onto my shoulders." He said while giving her time to adjust.

Without hesitation, she leaned forward, holding onto his shoulders with her face buried in the front of his shoulder.

He pulls out, only the head of his cock is inside her until he thrusts back in. She whimpered in response. Slowly he thrusts up into her. His patience didn't run thin like last time and that surprises him. But she also didn't have the chance to protest against him either. Either time, that wasn't an option.

Now he was plunging into her at a much faster pace. Each time he fucked up into her, she released muffled whimpers against his shoulder. He paused his thrusts only to lift her up an inch, leaving open-mouthed kisses at the skin on the opposite side of her neck. Closing her eyes she expected him to bite her again, but to her surprise, he didn't.

Tears bloomed in her eyes, she could feel his knot beginning to swell and that was something she wasn't prepared for the second time.

With one hard, brutal thrust, he forced his popping knot up inside her. As his release coated her walls, his eyes diverted to the knife on the nightstand. Reaching over he picked up the knife by the handle, his eyes tinted black from the memory from Crowley repeating Dean's own words back to him "just because you claimed her doesn't mean you won't kill her".

With the knife still his in hand he pointed the sharp end towards her back. This was it, he's going to kill her.

But then something struck him. A conscious perhaps? No, Demons didn't have a conscious. But Alphas do.

"I-I can't!" The Alpha roared before plunging the knife into the headboard of the bed.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Kiss From A Rose

The Conversation in the Road Trip

Summary: Y/n has been hunting alongside the infamous Winchesters for years now, but when an unexpected case pops up in her hometown, she finds herself struggling not only with her feelings for the eldest brother but with the things from her past that she has been fighting to forget.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings: Language, canon show level hunt description

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The huntress slumped her weight against the heavy door to her private room the second the latch caught. Her hands were shaking with the false adrenaline her body was pumping through her bloodstream from her interaction with the Winchesters. She attempted to take a slow deep breath in an effort to slow the steady drum of her heart beneath her ribcage and stave off what was quickly slipping into a full-blown panic attack. 

“Get a grip,” she mumbled to herself as she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the repetitive ticking of the old clock that sat on her desk. For heaven’s sake, she hunted monsters for a living and never once had any reaction close to what she was experiencing from the mere thought of taking Dean Winchester as her husband to her high school reunion. Y/n pinched the skin at the back of her upper arm to assure herself this was in fact happening and not just some horrific djinn dream or something. 

As her muscles began to relax, her weight slipped down the length of the door until she was curled in on herself on the concrete floor. Now that the flight instinct was beginning to wane, the reality of her situation was able to truly sink into her consciousness. 

There was a reason that Y/n was partial to the Fed cover on hunts as it came without much additional questioning from civilians. The only part she had to play was cautiously disinterested in the horrors of the job, which was not a hard task for the seasoned hunter anymore. The atrocities the people they helped had experienced didn’t hold a candle to the things that she had seen on numerous occasions. She was as about as desensitized as one could become without completely losing their humanity. 

Now though, she had to play the loving wife opposite the man who would never in fact see her that way in reality. Dean Winchester was everything that those attracted to the male gender could ask for wrapped up in a pretty bow. His good looks aside, Dean was a great man. He was a hero, fiercely protective of those he cared about, and never managed to lose his sense of humor after everything he had been through. There was an infinite number of layers to the famous eldest Winchester, many of which only a select few people got to see. Y/n was lucky enough to call herself one of those people, and for that, she had stupidly allowed herself to fall in love with him. 

The only thing was, he would never feel the same way. And now she had to live through him looking at her like she was his reason for getting up in the morning while it’s only an act. An act that the greatest hunter would play perfectly without batting an eye. She was certain this weekend would only serve to break her heart more than it already was. 

A light knock on the door startled her out of her intrusive thoughts. 

“Y/N?” The voice that muffled through the heavy oak belonged to none other than Sam. As much as she didn’t want to face him right now, she knew if she didn’t answer that would only rouse suspicion. If she was going to make it out to the other side of this hunt, it had to be business as usual. 

Y/n scrambled to her feet in one swift motion and cracked the door open, a smile plastered on her face that she hoped was convincing. “Hey, Sam.”

“You okay? You seemed pretty freaked when you walked out of there,” he noted, his face riddle with that signature Sam Winchester sympathy. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Just know that Dean and I would never let anything happen to you, you know that right?” His brow furrowed deeper into a complete puppy dog pout, something he knew no one was immune to, especially her. 

“Of course. I trust you two with my life.” The words she uttered were true. There was not anyone she trusts more than the Winchester brothers, no matter how much they tended to spike her blood pressure in any number of ways. 

“Right, but I mean, really, we have your back.” 

“Sam, -“ 

“Listen, I know what a less than stellar high school career feels like. If you want to talk, I’m here,” he cut off her sentence, his hazel eyes flitting between her own, searching for what, she wasn’t sure of. 

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” Y/N nodded. Sam leaned down and enveloped her into a bone-crushing hug. She loved his hugs. Sam was big enough to make her feel small, and Y/N loved that feeling, so being in his arms was a happy place for her. There was no judgment from him, just friendship. It was all she could ask for. 

“Good. We head out in an hour. Meet you at the car.” He released his death grip and retreated down the hall. 

An hour gave her just enough time to ensure she packs all the essentials, including a dress for the reunion. Y/n struggled to zip up her usual duffle with the extras she had shoved inside. She didn’t want to leave anything that could come in handy. Y/n, the wife of Dean Winchester, required different clothes and accessories than just plain old hunter Y/n and she was glad that she never lost her typical feminine wardrobe, even if she rarely ever touched the items on a normal day. 

When she was content she hadn’t left anything behind, she headed out to the garage to find the brothers already packing up the Impala. Sam was climbing into the passenger seat and Dean was shoving bags into her trunk as she hopped down the few stairs towards them. Dean looked up when he heard her footsteps, grinning that stupid grin of his again as he caught sight of her. 

“Well, there is my beautiful wife,” he nearly purred, his eyes twinkling as she stopped in front of him. His words caught her off guard, nearly knocking the wind from her lungs at how proficiently they seemed to sneak past his lips. It was only proof that Dean was going to have no problem playing his part, completely unaware of the way his every action will chip away at her cracked heart. 

“Okay there big guy, save the lines for the real show.” Luckily, she had a lot of practice brushing off her anxieties with humor in hopes of hiding them from the world. Her retort surprised even her with the ease in which she had uttered it. 

“Y/N,” he began, his grin dropped. Dean caught Y/N’s stare, holding her eyes in his. There was something that flashed behind his gaze that she couldn’t quite place, something that made her stomach flutter. 

“Come on you two,” Sam called out his window breaking the pair’s stare off. Y/N was quick to slip her bag from her shoulder and offer it to the hunter in front of her without a word before finding her own seat in the back of the Impala. 

****

With stops, the drive from the Bunker to Y/n’s hometown would take the hunters about eighteen hours. The sun had gone down hours ago, just before their last stop, as Dean had warned when he pulled into a gas station to fill the Impala’s tank. Sam grabbed snacks as Y/n took the opportunity to walk around the small building a few times to stretch her legs before using the restroom. 

Now, the cassette Dean had slipped into the player was turned low as Sammy snored away in the passenger seat. Baby’s engine purred underneath them as she glided effortlessly down the now-empty back road that passed through some no-name town in Indiana. 

A restless Y/n let out a soft sigh before leaning forward and resting her folded arms along the back of the front seat. “How far out are we?” 

Dean flickered his eyes to her for a second before focusing back on the road, his soft smile lit up by the low light emitting from the Impala’s dashboard. 

“About two hours probably,” he answered. “Why?”

“Just wondering. There aren’t any motels in the town, so we will have to find one in Toledo. Might be best to head there first at this hour,” Y/n explained, her final words cut off by a yawn. 

“Sounds good. Why don’t you get some shut-eye, I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Tried that already but my mind won’t shut up long enough. Besides, now is a good time to discuss our story,” the woman yawned yet again, failing to stifle it as the green-eyed hunter met her gaze in the rearview mirror. 

“Story?”

“Yeah, like our relationship story. Everything that people are going likely to ask us.”

“Hmm, okay,” Dean chanced a glance at his brother, seeing him still fast asleep. “So how did we meet?”

Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she pondered his question, her mind drifting back to her real first encounter with the Winchester brothers. 

~

“Oof,” The noise fell from Y/N’s lips as she landed on her side. The vampire she was attempting to kill had sent her flying backward. The seasoned hunter was able to roll out of her landing, cushioning most of the blow to her body, but it still hurt like a bitch.

“Okay, now I’m thoroughly annoyed,” she spit through gritted teeth. Her fingers flexed around the machete still in hand, the sting of the scrapes across her skin protested the movement, but she ignored the feeling, focusing on her prey so she could keep herself alive. 

“Ha! I swear you hunters, the sheer ignorance...” 

Y/n rose to her feet, her chest rising rapidly with her heavy breaths as adrenaline continued to pump through her veins. “Me? You vampires just think that you can run around offing people and get away with it? Not even attempting to hide your kills. It’s like you’re begging for a hunter to stop into town. Well, guess what, you aren’t the first vamp I’ve beheaded and you certainly won’t be the last. So, why don’t you try me?”

Her words set the creature off, who flashed its fangs with a menacing hiss before lunging at the huntress. This time she was prepared for the attack, easily dodging the bloodsucker and swinging the weapon in her fist all in one smooth motion. The sharp blade cut clean through the vampire’s neck, sending their lifeless head rolling across the dirt at her feet.  Hot blood sprayed across the open area, leaving a thick trail of it across her chest. Y/N stepped back as the headless body crumpled to the floor, a smirk spread across her sweaty face. 

“Holy shit.” Y/N froze at the husked-out words, not expecting to have company. The rest of the nest had already been taken care of, the three other headless corpses elsewhere on the abandoned property. Turning on her heel, she kept the blade in front of herself, ready for whoever, or whatever, awaited her. 

From behind the decrepit farmhouse, the silhouette of two figures emerged. As they stepped out of the shadow, she could make out the men who were advancing on her. The pair of them were tall, easily over six feet, and broad-shouldered. One of them, the taller of the two, had shaggy brown hair and a perplexed frown on his face. The other, whose gorgeous features were evident even in the low light of the moon, had a shit-eating grin that stretched his plump lips over his teeth. 

As she took in their modelesque features, the woman got lost in her thoughts, allowing her defensive stance to weakening of its own accord. Once she realized her weapon had dropped to her side, she shook away the intrusive and dirty thoughts about the two strangers. She knew nothing about them, and she had to keep her guard up. 

“What are you doing here?” Her tone was clipped as she questioned them, leaving no room for them to deny her the answers she wanted. 

“We were coming to kill a vamp, but we see you have already taken care of that.” The shorter one was still grinning like an idiot. 

“Hunters?”

“Yeah, I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean.” The taller one gestured from himself and then to his partner, who simply waved as he returned his blade she hadn’t noticed to the holster that hung on his thigh. 

“No kidding?” There isn’t a hunter out there who hasn’t heard of the Winchester brothers. Some other hunters didn’t have the nicest things to say. They saw the brothers as egotistical, just men who knew their name was famous. Others called them downright dangerous. They say that meeting the Winchester was surely a curse because not many lived to tell the tale, human or monster. Then there were those who honestly revered the two, like Bobby or Garth. They talked about the two men who saved the world, on more than one occasion. 

“Nope.” Dean was still grinning, giving her a first-hand glimpse of that famous ego. 

“Y/n Y/l/n,” she introduced herself as she too holstered her weapon and wiped her dirty hands on her jeans. “You guys are late to the party though, sorry.”

“Was it a lone vampire?” Sam asked as he squatted to inspect the body that lie in the grass at their feet. 

“There was a nest of four. The other three are already taken care of.” 

“You took on four vamps all by yourself?” Dean had his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his eyebrows raised, and his gaze intent on the huntress. It set Y/N on edge, her self-confidence wavering slightly as she shifted on her feet. She wasn’t used to men looking at her like Dean was. Did he seem...impressed?

Somehow, he once again managed to get her to let her guard down without even trying, and the woman cursed herself for letting him have this effect. In this life, men dominated the job field, and it was hard enough to get respect without immediately allowing a man to turn you into a gooey, self-conscious mess. 

Quickly building back up her carefully crafted walls, she pulled out her best grin and sarcastically replied, “What like it’s hard?” 

“Apparently not…” Dean trailed off. “Well Y/N, at least let us buy you a beer for saving us a night of work.” 

Sam stood to his full height, glancing at his brother and then Y/N, nodding in agreement with the oldest Winchester’s sentiment.

“I’m that case, you owe me at least two.” 

~

“We could say it was a work thing as it’s technically true.” Y/n allowed her mind to drift back to the Impala’s interior and offered up her suggestion. 

“Okay, so what do we do for a living?” Dean continued, easily catching on to the line of questioning they were sure to encounter.

“Um...well, I was almost finished with my RN schooling so I could easily lie about that. How about you, any preferences?” The huntress pick at a loose thread on the sleeve of her shirt as she waited for his answer. 

“I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean admitted, his gaze focused on the empty road ahead of them. 

The ease in which he answered had surprised her. She had never heard this story from the eldest brother in all the years she had known the Winchesters. 

“Really? Tell me about that,” she leaned further into the bench seat, curiosity getting the better of her. 

“There’s nothing to tell. I was a kid and I grew out of it.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. Y/n supposed she should have known. Dean was a hero in every sense of the word. That wasn’t something that happened to him one day by force or by John. It was in his blood, long before the tragedy that catapulted the Winchester’s into the world of the supernatural. This particular choice seemed to her to be motivated by the unforeseen circumstances that caused the boys to lose their mother, not that she dared ask him that. 

“Honestly, that works perfectly, we could have met in the ER when you bring in a trauma patient,” she explains, solidifying the next piece of their fake relationship. Moving on she asks the next common question she can think of.

“How long we been together?”

“Six years altogether, married for two.” Again, the ease in which he answers her question catches her off guard, even if she had, in fact, been hunting alongside the boys for six years. It was as if he had been thinking it before she even uttered the words. 

“Do you think we covered all the bases?” Y/n pondered what else someone could ask them, which frankly could be just about anything. 

“Probably not, but I think it’s a good foundation,” Dean started, looking over his shoulder at her for the first time since they started their conversation. “Anything else comes up we can just follow the rules of improv.”

“Rules of improv?” she chuckled lowly. 

“Yeah, like-”

“I know the rules of improv, Dean. Never say no, always go with whatever your scene partner says,” she cut off his explanation. “I just found it funny that was your suggestion.”

“It’s a good suggestion,” Dean mocked offense at her words. 

“You’re right, rules of improv it is,” the huntress relented, sitting back in her seat as she shares a smile with the Winchester. 

The rest of the ride remained quiet, only the sounds of the cassette player and the engine to keep her mind occupied. When they arrived in Toledo, she pointed Dean to a more appealing part of town and booked a room for the brothers and one for herself. 

When she emerged from the motel’s front office, Sam was stretching his long legs in the parking lot as Dean pulled their bags from the trunk. She traded their room key for her duffle, allowing Dean to slip it onto her shoulder. 

“Night, boys. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. Sleep well,” she hugged both of the tall men before retreating to her room. 

Part 3

[bamby0304]

Lost

Summary: Through the heartache and struggles Dean never succumbed to the darkness of the life, because he always her. He had you. And then, he didn’t.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Character death.

Bamby

A flash of a smile. An echo of a laugh. A ghost of a touch.

In the darkest time of his life, when everything was failing and no end to the pain could be seen, she’d come. All light and happiness, a strength built over time that held that purity in place. Nothing could ruin her, not even him.

Dean had been lost in an instant.

“I trust you, Dean.”

She was always there with the right words, a smile ending each sentence she shared with him. Not a single flicker of fear or doubt. Nothing but honest affection.

A laugh so infectious even Dean couldn’t help but smile back at her. The sound bubbled in his chest and flittered through his mind as he recalled how perfect she was.

She’d been everything. She’d been the light at the end of his tunnel. A light that had dimmed in his arms as she stared up into the glowing green of his gaze.

“I need you, Dean.”

He’d watched her smile at him, small and sad, nothing like the bright happiness she’d worn since the day he met her. Clutching her to his chest as tears streamed down his face, Dean had felt her body grow cold as she slipped away from him

Nothing mattered. No one. Not a single thing. He didn’t care. He couldn’t. All he could do was feel the empty, hollow nothing buried in his chest where her love and touch had once been.

“I forgive you, Dean.”

With her gone, the last of the light faded from his life... Dean was lost.

As he stood there, beside his brother whom he- in that moment- felt nothing for, Dean stared at the pile of logs they’d built. A throne much like the other’s they had to make over the years. The last resting place of a hunter.

She lay there, wrapped in the white of a sheet Sam had gather from the trunk of the Impala. Not his Baby. Just the Impala. His Baby, the real love of his life, was gone.

Nothing and no one could replace her. Nothing and no one could fill the gaping hole in his chest. Nothing and no one would ever smile at her with a smile that made him feel like everything could be okay.

His lighter was lit and thrown on the pile, on her. Within seconds she was alight in flames almost as warm and bright as she’d been in life.

A flash of a smile. An echo of a laugh. A ghost of a touch. A whisper of a voice.

"I love you, Dean.” 

Bamby

[lachelledavies-winchester]

« Did you bring any souvenirs from Mordor? » Dean asked, under the curious look of his colleague, and the girl rocked her head, then handed them the keys and said goodbye, apologizing again.

« What does it mean to bring something from Mordor? » the slayer asked him as they walked down the stairs of the apartment building back to the car.

« Are you serious? » his instinct was to tease her, then he thought he didn't want to show that slightly nerdy side and tried to be vague. « A place from a movie with monsters. » he merely replied at first, then reconsidered. « You're not a fantasy fan, are you? »

« No, and no superheroes either, except Superman. » 

« Superman? Really? You don't understand anything about superheroes either. » 

« Let's hear, who am I supposed to like according to the Gospel of Dean Winchester? »

« Obviously Batman. »

« Why, is Batman a superhero too? » 

« Why shouldn't he be? » 

« And what would he have that's super? The bank account? »

« If you want I can remind you what I have, in case you want to reply. » 

« In my opinion, you watch too much porn. »

Fourth chapter here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50832031/chapters/143456206

Thank for read <3

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Never Too Late

Summary: Dean’s not too thrilled with the way his life is going and his thirteen year old daughter begins to take notice. After she confronts him he agrees to see a therapist but he’s not the only one that’ll get the help they need...

Pairing: Dad!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, mental health talks, on the run reader

A/N: Enjoy!

_____

Dean’s POV

“Dean,” said Mary from across the table. He hummed and looked around, his dad and Emily already missing from the table. “You feeling okay, honey? You’ve been quieter than normal lately.”

“Yeah. Let me help with the dishes,” he said. He started to gather them up, the sound of the front door shutting nearby.

“Your father was taking her for an ice cream,” she said.

“She doesn’t need ice cream,” he said as he carried the plates into the kitchen.

“She’s thirteen and skinny as a rail. She ate all of her vegetables. She can have an ice cream cone, Dean,” she said, following him in.

“You seem to know how to be a perfect parent. Why don’t you raise her then if I’m doing such a shit job,” he said. Mary stared at him, Dean closing his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Your father and I have had enough of this. Emily is picking up on whatever it is going on with you,” she said.

“I hate my life, that’s what’s going on with me,” he said. “Emily is the one good thing in it and she’s growing up. She wants to spend more time with her friends or go to the mall. Five years, she’s in college and then I just work and save money for her and then that’s it. That’s the rest of my life.”

“You sound depressed, honey,” she said.

“I am not depressed. I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot of overtime,” he said.

“Dean-”

“Drop it, mom. I’m fine.”

“Dad,” said Emily from the other end of the couch that night. I hummed and kept watching the cooking show, handing her the remote. “No. I…”

“What is it, baby?” he asked, giving her his full attention. She frowned and looked down at the empty space between them.

“You know my friend Pippa? She says her mom gets sad too sometimes. She takes medicine to help her,” she said.

“Emily, I am fine. Don’t-”

“No you’re not. You’re always sad or tired. You barely smile anymore and I think you need to take something to get help too,” she said.

“I am fine,” said Dean.

“Dad, don’t lie! You’re not fine.”

“I’m not taking life advice from a thirteen year old,” he said. She frowned and stood up, storming upstairs. Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath when all of a sudden Emily was back in front of him, shoving a book in his lap.

“It’s from the library and it’s by a doctor and it’s about this mental health stuff and you suck at it so read the stupid book,” she said before she took off, her bedroom door slamming this time.

“Em,” said Dean with a deep sigh. “Emi, why do you of all people have to see through my bullshit better than anyone?”

He turned off the TV and took the book up to bed, pausing at her door but figuring it was safer to let her calm down on her own.

He sat down on the edge of his mattress and flipped it open. It wasn’t particularly long, something a middle schooler could understand easy enough.

Half an hour later Dean had shoved the book on the floor and had his head resting on his tucked in knees.

“Dad?” he heard. He turned his head and tried to wipe his face off, Emily walking over.

“Yeah, Em,” he said, not looking at her. She grabbed his cheeks though and turned his face back, Dean not able to hide the emotions he normally kept so in check in front of her. Her eyes instantly welled up and he frowned. “No, Emi, it’s not your fault. Dad’s…”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” she said. He pulled her onto the bed and into a big hug, kissing the top of her head. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

“Rip my heart right out sometimes, I swear,” said Dean, tucking her under his chin. “I’m sorry, baby. This is not your responsibility. This is not your problem at all or nothing you did. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you need medicine?” she asked.

“I need to talk to someone,” he said, closing his eyes. “I needed to talk to someone years ago. Tonight though I’m going to remember that you are a wonderful and amazing person who loves me.”

“You thought I didn’t love you?” she asked, lifting her head up.

“My head was lying to me, baby. I know you do,” he said.

“I’m sorry too, for being mean earlier,” she said.

“Well, you shouldn’t be mean but sometimes people need it, like I did,” he said.

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” she asked.

“I think you’re a little old for that,” he said. “But I’ll make an exception tonight. I don’t really want to be alone either.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Y/N POV

“Dean Winchester,” you said, a grumpy looking guy in a tan coat standing up. “Right this way.”

He sighed and followed you back to your office, Dean slipping past you and inside. You took a seat at your chair, Dean sitting down on the couch as far away as possible.

“I don’t bite,” you teased. “I’m Dr. Smith but some of my patients prefer to call me Y/N. Your choice.”

“Mhm,” he hummed.

“Alright,” you said, flipping open your notepad. “What brings you in today, Dean?”

“My thirteen year old daughter cornered me last night and said she thinks I have a problem with my mental health and I know she’s right and I don’t want to be here but I will be here for her,” he said.

“You need to be here for you, Dean. That’s step one,” you said.

“I’m here so my daughter doesn’t worry about me anymore so feed me some happy pills or whatever,” he said.

“Listen. I’ll be upfront about this. I don’t prescribe to my patients, only very rarely and I’m not going to feed you medication to numb you out so you can go about your day. We deal with our shit in this office. You want to do that, great. You don’t, there’s the door,” you said.

“What the fuck kind of shrink are you?” he asked.

“I’m your fucking shrink,” you said with a smile. He stared at you, glancing at the coffee table for a moment. “I’ll take the fact you haven’t stormed out yet a sign that you’d like to stay. Okay. Let’s get down to business then. Why does your daughter think you have an issue with your mental health?”

“Because I do. My entire life has revolved around taking care of someone else and she’s growing up and someday soon, no one will need me,” he said.

“Kids always need their fathers. Shit, mine just helped me paint my shed last weekend,” you said.

“I think this was a mistake,” he said as he got to his feet.

“Kids grow up, Dean. You just told me you think you have a problem. I help with those kinds of problems. Why not try this?” you asked.

“I’m not gonna be coming to therapy every week. I don’t have time for that,” he said.

“There are alternatives. I do home sessions in the evenings in certain cases. But let’s get back to you. Do you ever think of harming yourself?” you asked.

“No. Not me, not anybody,” he said. “I’m not nuts. I’m just tired.”

“Tired. Alright. How about I give you a short survey to fill out and we’ll go from there?”

“Well?” said Dean not long after you’d started to read over his survey answers.

“I think you’re tired,” you said with a smile. “Dean...I think maybe you have some self-worth and esteem issues, maybe a little more than the average person but I think it’s simpler than you think. You’re lonely and don’t make yourself a priority at all in your life. It’s brewing unhappiness which is spilling out everywhere else.”

“So I’m miserable because I’m miserable.”

“You need to start giving a fuck about yourself. If you do, I think you can start to feel better,” you said.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Do it for your daughter.”

He was quiet and glanced down, letting out a deep breath before he nodded.

“Alright then. Now, let’s talk about the best way to do that.”

“Sorry,” said Dean as you pulled on your coat a few hours later. “I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late.”

“It’s what we call an emergency session and it’s totally cool,” you said. “But you can walk me to my car.”

“I was planning on it,” he said with a smile. You hummed and gathered your things, Dean following you out the hallway just as the front door opened and a police officer stepped inside.

“Officer the office is closed for the night but I can give the number for the emergency therapist for your department,” you said, already going over to the receptionist desk.

“No. I’m here on other business,” said the officer, nodding for Dean to leave. You glanced over at him and he raised his chin, looking back at the officer. “Sir, it’s a private matter.”

“I don’t entirely feel all the comfortable leaving her alone here with you,” said Dean.

“I’m a cop. Leave.”

“Dean, you should um, listen to the officer,” you said.

“Why? I’m not breaking any laws,” said Dean.

“I’d like to speak to my wife in private is why,” said the officer.

“Oh,” said Dean before he caught the look on your face. “Still going to have to pass on leaving.”

“What the fuck is this?” said Lance to you. You shut your eyes and you swore he growled. “Get this fuckface nutjob out of here.”

“He is a patient and you’re the fuckface. We’re divorced so get the fuck out of my office,” you said.

“She’s not a shrink,” said Lance to Dean. “She pretends. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N and she is a convicted criminal, a fugitive, and I would not get involved in this buddy.”

“You got any proof?” asked Dean. Lance narrowed his eyes and Dean took a step in front of you. “Didn’t think so. Unless you want to pull a gun on the brother of the assistant DA, I’d get the fuck out.”

“I’ll have a warrant in an hour,” he said before he left. You closed your eyes, Dean’s grunt causing you to flash them open.

“You really a convicted criminal?” he asked.

“I ran away from him because that was him being nice and him being mean is not a great thing and…” you trailed off, Dean nodding at you. “I shot him. Then I ran. We’re from the Dakotas. He doesn’t work here.”

“Yeah, I got that from the out of state badge on him. Let’s get you someplace safe, alright?” he said.

“I have a go bag in my trunk,” you said. “Sorry. I’m actually not a therapist. I took a few psych classes though. Although technically I had a PhD in English so-”

“Yeah, Y/N, let’s stop freaking out and you’re going to get in your car and follow me to my place, okay? I wasn’t lying. My little brother really is the assistant DA. He’ll help you out.”

“Let me get that,” said Dean, taking your backpack from you. You stared at him as you stepped into his foyer, Dean setting the bag down after you’d taken off your coat and shoes. “I’m gonna leave it right by the stairs, alright?”

You nodded and he locked up behind you, an angry stamping coming from around a corner.

“Dad! It’s like eight thirty! I’m starving!” said a teenage girl, her face falling when she saw you. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I was late and make yourself a TV dinner and eat it in your room,” he said as you followed him down the front hall into a kitchen. He opened a drawer and started to flip through some papers, the girl staring at you.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi Emily,” you said. 

“Who are you?”

“Y/N’s a friend,” said Dean, pulling a sheet out. “Emi, make your food and then go to your room. This is grown up stuff.”

“Don’t say that,” she muttered. He sighed and threw his head back.

“Um, how about I make something to eat quick for everyone? I’m sure we’re all hungry,” you said.

“Why?” mumbled Dean in your ear.

“I’m trying not to freak out and she’s hungry and just let me make dinner,” you said. He held up his hands and pulled out his phone, walking around to the other side of the table before he was calling a number. “What would you like Emily?”

“Dad was going to make sriracha chicken,” she said.

“How about macaroni and cheese?” you said with a smile. “That’s nice and simple.”

“Whatever,” she said, hopping up on the counter and pointing out where to get the pot and food from.

Twenty minutes later you had a few bowls of food on the table, Dean tapping his finger on the wood as he kept glancing at the door.

“How was therapy?” asked Emily.

“Eventful. Also, please don’t discuss that in front of other people,” he said.

“But she’s your therapist,” she said, poking at your lanyard with your ID badge, still hanging around your neck.

“It’s complicated,” said Dean.

“Is he okay?” she asked you. Dean rolled his eyes and shoveled some food in his mouth. “Please?”

“Hey,” said a tall man, coming in through the front door quickly. “I got over as fast as I could.”

“Thanks, Sam. Emily, finish your food in your room,” said Dean. She groaned but left, Sam giving you a smile before he sat down in her spot.

“I’m Sam, Dean’s brother. So I talked to the DA and we can get you in witness protection,” said Sam.

“It won’t work,” you said. “He has friends in there.”

“You did shoot him,” said Sam.

“He tried to kill me,” you said.

“Yeah, your family and friends have always been on your side about his abuse and all that. Our problem is that...you’ve both broken laws, you and him. The DA had an alternative option. He owes me a huge favor which is why we’re...bypassing legality in this,” said Sam.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“It means a new identity. Legitimate birth certificate, tax returns, the whole nine yards. The only catch is it’s not going to be ready for a few days,” said Sam.

“I called you to help her, not make her run again,” said Dean. “Since when is shooting someone that’s trying to kill you against the law?”

“It’s not. I didn’t say her crimes were bad. It’s just how the other side would spin it. You wouldn’t get jail time. We just don’t want you near him. This isn’t ever getting to a court. We’ve seen this before Dean. He gets her, she keeps running or somehow we get lucky and he gets taken out of the equation,” said Sam.

“If I get a new ID, I can get farther than before. Keep a low-profile, don’t stay in one place too long, I get it. Please. I’ll take it,” you said. Sam nodded.

“I’ll keep you updated. I’ll get you a hotel room for the next few-”

“He’s a cop. He’s going to look at all the hotels and motels, Sammy,” said Dean. “Let her stay here.”

“You have a thirteen year old daughter. You gave this guy your name basically,” said Sam. “The knight in shining armor act is over. Y/N, come on.”

“Really, Dean, please it’s okay,” you said as you stood up. “You did more than enough. Um, I...I really do hope you feel better. Take care of yourself. Please.”

“I’ll try,” said Dean. “Take care of yourself too, Y/N.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Two Years Later

You rung the doorbell and heard some movement inside after a few seconds. You held your hood to keep it from flying off in the wind and rain. The door opened and the air immediately was cozy and smelled like cinnamon and something really good tasting.

“Hi,” said Emily. She was taller than you remembered and her hair was darker but you smiled and she cocked her head. “Y/N?”

“Hi Emily. Is your dad home?” you asked. She nodded and waved you inside. You took a step in on the mat only so she could shut the door and stop the water from spilling in. 

“Dad! Your therapist you have a crush on is here!” she called, wandering back down the hall to the back of the house. 

“I do not have a crush on Dr. Benson. He’s also very happily married,” said Dean. He was smiling as he came into view, freezing when he saw you by the door. “Y/N.”

“Hey,” you said. You gave a tiny wave and he stared at you. “I uh, wanted to stop by for a second if that was okay.”

“Yeah. Em. Go watch the rolls in the oven for me, please,” asked Dean. She hummed as she walked out of view, Dean coming into the foyer and looking you over. “You look good.”

“Thanks. I um, straight off the bat I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t safe. Lance is no longer in the picture.”

“How no longer in the picture?”

“I don’t need to pretend anymore. I’m back to being Y/N,” you said. “Not even a mark on my permanent record.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he.”

“Yes. Started seeing a young girl, barely out of highschool. It got messy. Her mother is a police officer. Things escalated and he got contact information for me, put it out that if I didn’t come forward, he’d do some bad stuff to the girl. I contacted the mother and things got really out of hand but I tried to help so they sweeped everything I did wrong too under the rug. I’m normal again.”

“I kept going to therapy,” said Dean. “I found a really good guy. Things are better around here too.”

“Emily looks like she’s growing up,” you said.

“Too fast. Would you want to stick around for a minute? If you don’t have plans,” he said.

“No, my plans are wide open. I don’t even have a job or house right now. I am very open book,” you said with a smile.

“Well we have cinnamon rolls about to come out of the oven and taco soup on the stove if you’d like to join us to watch some football,” he said.

“Taco soup?” you asked. 

“It’s good. I promise,” he said. He took your coat off of you and hung it on the hook, letting you slip out of your boots before guiding you to the back of the house. Emily was on the counter eating a spoonful of icing, Dean rolling his eyes at her. “Y/N’s gonna hang out for a bit if that’s cool.”

“He so has a crush on you,” she said.

“Would you like to be grounded?”

“You’ve never grounded me,” she said. A fluffy dog came running into the kitchen, barking at her as Dean crossed his arms. “Come on, Rufus. Of course you wait until it’s pouring to have to go potty.”

She hopped off and went off with the dog, Dean smiling as you cocked your head.

“What?” he asked.

“You went full blown happy single dad,” you said. “I bet you didn’t want the dog and now he sleeps in your bed.”

“No, not true. He sleeps with Em half the time,” he laughed. He got out an extra bowl and shrugged. “For a fake therapist, you were a pretty good one. I’m not perfect but I haven’t been as low as I was that night since.”

“Me either,” you said.

“Why’d you really stop by?”

“I wanted to say thank you. If you ever need anything, it’s yours.”

“How about a date?” he said. “I felt something. You felt something. One date and we call it even?”

“Throw in a cinnamon roll and you have a deal,” you said. He smirked and you both heard a door open, a soaking wet dog running into the kitchen and shaking off.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” said Dean. “Emily!”

“I know!” she said, trotting in with a big towel and picking up the dog in it. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said as she walked him back where they came from. “The daughter thing...that doesn’t freak you out?”

“Not at all,” you said. “Your rolls are burning.”

“Crap,” he said, spinning around and taking the pan out. He sighed and you laughed. “I got another batch in the fridge if you don’t mind waiting.”

“I don’t mind waiting at all, Dean.”

______

[stu-recs]

So intense!

Take a Sip Part 2

Author: Hannahc56

Word Count: 2,348

Request: Hi there, hi! Could you maybe do a fic where the reader accidentally gets roofied and Dean comes to the rescue?

PART ONE.

—-

Your eyes fluttered lightly. The stench of the old motel room flooded your senses. The smell of sheets that haven’t been washed in ages and the feel of itchy blankets that have laid across countless bodies. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt the headache swarming around your temples, only pounding filled your ears and a grimace left your lips. You could hear the sound of heavy boots shuffling around the room before a warm hand slipped underneath your neck and pulled you carefully up. 

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