Firefighter!Dean because he deserved that happy ending đ§Ą
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Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse
Word Count: 4388
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boysâ motel room, sipping a coffee youâd run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases heâd found.
âA fishing trawler found off the coast of Caliââ Dean started.
âOoh, I like Cali,â you cut him off.
ââIts crew vanished.â He finished.
âAnd, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.âÂ
âMeh, thatâs boring. Let somebody else handle that one,â you dismissed.
Dean noticed Sam hadnât spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.
âHey,â Dean called to his brother. âAm I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?â
âNo. Iâm listening. Keep going.â
He clearly wasnât.
âAnd, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.â
âOoh, I like that one,â you said.Â
Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Samâs face. âAny of these things blowinâ up your skirt, pal?â
Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. âWait. Iâve seen this.â
âSeen what?â you asked.
Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.Â
âWhat are you doing?â Dean eyed his brother strangely.
The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldnât quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.
âGuys, I know where we have to go next.â
âWhere?â Dean asked.
âBack home. Back to Kansas,â he responded.
The older brother was surprised. âOkay, random. Whereâd that come from?â
He showed the photo to the two of you. âAlright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?â
âYeahâŚ?â Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.
âAnd it didnât burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?âÂ
Deanâ as well as youâ was still lost. âI guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkinâ about?â
âOkay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but⌠the people who live in our old houseâ I think they might be in danger,â Sam rushed out.
âWhy would you think that?â you questioned.
âUh⌠itâs just, um⌠look, just trust me on this, okay?â Sam turned away.
âWait, whoa, whoa, trust you?â Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. âCome on, man, thatâs weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.â
âI canât really explain it is all,â Sam shrugged.
âWell, tough. Iâm not goinâ anywhere until you do.âÂ
You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. âI have these nightmares.â
You nodded. âWeâve noticed.â
âAnd sometimes⌠they come true.â
Dean was stunned. âCome again?â
âLook, Dean⌠I dreamt about Jessicaâs deathâ for days before it happened,â Sam explained.
âSam, people have weird dreams, man. Iâm sure itâs just a coincidence.â Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.Â
âNo,â the younger brother protested. âI dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didnât do anything about it âcause I didnât believe it. And now Iâm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, thatâs where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?â
You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. âI donât know.â
Sam sat down across from his brother. âWhat do you mean you donât know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!â
âSam, slow downââ you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.
Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. âI mean, first you tell me that youâve got the Shining? And then you tell me that Iâve gotta go back home? Especially whenâŚ.â
âWhen what?â you asked.
Deanâs voice broke for the first time since youâd met him. âWhen I swore to myself that I would never go back there?â
Samâs puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, âLook, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.â
Dean nodded. âI know we do.â
***
You looked out at the boysâ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.
âYou gonna be alright, man?â Sam asked his brother who didnât respond.
âJuryâs still out on that,â you muttered in response.
Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Samâs face.
âYes?â the woman said.
âSorry to bother you, maâam, but weâre with the Federalââ
One Winchester cut the other off. âIâm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivinâ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.â
The woman seemed surprised and smiled. âWinchester. Yeah, thatâs so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.â She turned to you. âAre you a Winchester, too? I didnât see a little girl in any of the pictures.â
You shook your head. âNo, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).â
She smiled at you. âNice to meet you. Come on in.â
Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.
âJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!â the toddler called excitedly.
âThatâs Ritchie. Heâs kind of a juice junkie,â Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. âBut, hey, at least he wonât get scurvy.â She walked back over to her daughter. âSari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.â
âHi,â the shy girl said quietly.
You waved.
âSo, you just moved in?â Dean asked.
âYeah, from Wichita.â
âYou got family here, orâŚ?â
Jennyâs smile faded. âNo. I just, uh⌠needed a fresh start, thatâs all. So, new town, new jobâ I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.â
âSo, how you likinâ it so far?â Sam questioned.
Jenny laughed awkwardly. âWell, uh, all due respect to your childhood homeâ I mean, Iâm sure you had lots of happy memories hereââ
You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.Â
âBut this place has its issues,â she finished.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked.
âWell, itâs just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? Weâve got flickering lights almost hourly.â
That caught your attention. âOh, thatâs too bad. What else?â
âUmâŚsinkâs backed up, thereâs rats in the basementâŚâ She trailed off. âIâm sorry. I donât mean to complain.â
Dean shook his head. âNo. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?â
Jenny looked at him quizzically. âItâs just the scratching, actually.â
Sari tugged on her momâs shirt, who stooped down next to her. âAsk them if it was here when they lived here.â
âWhat, Sari?â Sam asked.
âThe thing in my closet,â she whispered as if the thing would hear.
âOh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.â Jenny looked up to you and the boys. âRight?â
They shook their heads.
âShe had a nightmare the other night,â Jenny explained.
Sariâs voice suddenly got louder. âI wasnât dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.â
The boys seemed too shocked to speak.
You took over. âIâm so sorry, sweetheart. Youâre okay now though, right?â
She nodded.
âSee? It didnât get ya. It was only a dream.â
You knew it wasnât. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.Â
âYou hear that? A figure on fire,â Sam reminded the two of you.
âAnd that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?â Dean asked.
"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.â
âYeah, well, Iâm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are cominâ true,â the older brother chuckled humorlessly.
âWell, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think itâs the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?â
âI donât know!â Dean responded.
The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.
âWell, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?â Sam inquired.
âOr maybe itâs something else entirely, Sam, we donât know yet.â
âBoth of you need to calm down,â you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. âWeâre gonna get those people safe. Whateverâs in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.â
âThank you, Dr. Phil,â Dean remarked.
You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. âLook, dude, youâre gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.â
Sam and Dean both nodded.
âYouâre runninâ low on gas, Dee.â You patted Deanâs cheek before sitting back against your chair.Â
***
âWe just gotta chill out, thatâs all,â Dean said as he pumped gas.Â
âIâve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.â
He ignored your snide comment. âYou know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?â
"Weâd try to figure out what we were dealinâ with. Weâd dig into the history of the house,â Sam sighed.
"Exactly,â the older brother began, âexcept this time, we already know what happened.â
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?â
"About that night, you mean?â
"Yeah.â
Dean paused. âNot much. I remember the fire⌠the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.â
You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.
âYou did?â the younger Winchester asked.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?â
"No.â
âAnd, well, you know Dadâs story as well as I do. Mom wasâ was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.â
âAnd he never had a theory about what did it?â
âIf he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.â
"Okay. So, if weâre gonna figure out whatâs goinâ on nowâŚwe have to figure out what happened back then. And see if itâs the same thing.â
You decided to add your two cents. âYeah. We can talk to your dadâs friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.â
Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.Â
âDoes this feel like just another job to you?â Sam piped up.
âOf course, it doesnât,â you thought.
Dean kept quiet for a moment. âIâll be right back,â he finally said. âI gotta go to the bathroom.â He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.
You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, âIâm gonna go check on Dean.â
While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.
âYou stalkinâ me?â
âNo, actually, I came to check on you.â
âWell, Iâm fine.â He went to brush past you.
You grabbed his bicep. âDonât lie to me.â
He stopped, looking you over. âIâm fine, sweetheart.â
âThen whatâs this?â you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.
Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. âCâmon, letâs go.â He started walking away from you.
You caught up to him, asking, âAre you sure you donât just want me to do this one by myself?â
He nodded sharply.Â
Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.
You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.
***
The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Maryâs death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.
She guided the client out of the door. âAlright, there. Donât you worry âbout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.â
The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.
She addressed the three of you. âWhew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-banginâ the gardener.â
You giggled.
âWhy didnât you tell him?â Dean asked.
âPeople donât come here for the truth. They come for good news,â the woman explained.
You stared at her, as did the boys.
âWell? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ainât got all day.â
You looked at Dean. You knew you hadnât told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.Â
âWell, lemme look at ya,â she smiled at the boys. âOh, you boys grew up handsome.â She pointed her finger at Dean. âAnd you were one goofy-lookinâ kid, too.âÂ
You giggled again. You liked her a lot.
âSam.â Missouri grabbed his hand. âOh, honeyâŚIâm sorry about your girlfriend. And your fatherâ heâs missinâ?â
âHowâd you know all that?â Sam asked her.
âWell, you were just thinkinâ it just now.â
âWell, where is he? Is he okay?â Dean questioned.
Missouriâs smile faded. âI donât know.â
âDonât know? Well, youâre supposed to be a psychic, right?âÂ
âBoy, you see me sawinâ some bony tramp in half? You think Iâm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I canât just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.â
You smirked at Sam and sat down.
Missouri snapped at Dean. âBoy, you put your foot on my coffee table, Iâm âa whack you with a spoon!â
âI didnât do anything!â he responded.
âBut you were thinkinâ about it.â
Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.
â(Y/N), honey, I didnât mean to completely disregard you,â she smiled at you. â(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?â She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. âI knew your dad. Mean olâ bastard.â
Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.Â
âI donât mean to embarrass you,â she went on. âIâm just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.â She tsked.Â
Tears welled in your eyes.Â
Sam knew he should change the subject. âOkay. So, our dadâ when did you first meet him?â
âHe came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,â Missouri explained.
âWhat about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?â Dean questioned.
âA little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopinâ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.â
âAnd could you?â
You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Maryâs passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your fatherâs wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldnât let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.
âBaby, you are not weak.â Missouriâs voice pulled you back to shore. âIâm sorry I brought all that up for you.â
You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Deanâs gaze boring into the side of your head.Â
***
You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldnât register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadnât truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didnât exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.Â
Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sariâs bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.Â
âIf thereâs a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,â Missouri explained, walking around Sariâs room.Â
âWhy?â Sam asked.
Missouri turned to him. âThis used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.â
Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.
âThat an EMF?â Missouri asked.
âYeah,â Dean answered.
âAmateur,â she deadpanned.
You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.Â
âI donât know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ainât the thing that took your mom,â Missouri told the Winchesters.
âWait, are you sure?â Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
She nodded.
âHow do you know?â
âIt isnât the same energy I felt the last time I was here. Itâs somethinâ different.â
âWhat is it?â Dean asked.
âNot it.â Missouri opened the closer. âThem. Thereâs more than one spirit in this place.â
âWhat are they doing here?â Dean asked.
âTheyâre here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,â Missouri elaborated.
Sam shook his head. âI donât understand.â
âThis place is a magnet for paranormal energy. Itâs attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it wonât rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.â
âYou said there was more than one spirit.â
âThere is. I just canât quite make out the second one.â
Deanâs voice became hard. âWell, one thingâs for damn sureâ nobodyâs dyinâ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?â
***
After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jennyâs house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.
âLook, Iâm not sure Iâm comfortable leaving you guys here alone,â she told Missouri.
âJust take your kids to the movies or somethinâ, and itâll be over by the time you get back.â
You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.
When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jennyâs bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spiritâs hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.
â(Y/N)!â he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.
You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.
Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. âAre you okay?â
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. âCan you stand?â
You nodded again. With Deanâs help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jennyâs kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.Â
âYou sure this is over?â Sam asked the psychic.
âIâm sure. Why? Why do you ask?â
Sam sighed in response. âNever mind. Itâs nothinâ, I guess.â
The front door opened.
âHello? Weâre home,â Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. âWhat happened?â
"Hi, sorry. Um, weâll pay for all of this,â Sam told her.
âDonât you worry. Deanâs gonna clean up this mess,â Missouri added.
Dean stood glued to his spot.
âWell, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.â
He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.
âAnd donât cuss at me!â
***
You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jennyâs house.
âAlright, so, tell me again, what are we still doinâ here?â Dean asked his brother.
âI donât know. I just⌠I still have a bad feeling,â he responded.
âWhy? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.â
âYeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, thatâs all.â
Dean slumped down in his seat. âYeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.â
You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. âGuys, look!â
The three of you rushed into the house.
âYou two grab the kids, Iâll get Jenny,â Dean said.
You nodded and sprinted to Ritchieâs room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, âTake your brother outside as fast as you can, and donât look back.â She obliged and took the little boy from you.Â
Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.Â
You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.
Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.
âNo, donât! Donât!â Sam cried.
âWhat, why?!â you asked.
âBecause I know who it is. I can see her now.â
And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.
You could see tears rising in Deanâs eyes as he lowered his gun. âMom?â
The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. âDean.â
She walked toward you and her youngest son. âSam.â Her smile faded. âIâm sorry.â
âFor what?â he asked.Â
She looked at him sadly, but said nothing. Â
The woman turned to you last. âThank you,â she said.Â
You smiled back at her, though you werenât quite sure what she was thanking you for.
She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. âYou get out of my house. And let go of my son.â Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.
âNow itâs over,â Sam muttered.
***
The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchestersâ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.
You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.
âThanks for these,â Dean told Jenny.
âDonât thank me, theyâre yours.â
Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you werenât brave enough to start the conversation.
âAre you okay?â Dean asked you.
You couldnât look at him. âWhy do you ask?â
âI think you know.â
You paused a moment before turning to face him. âI promise Iâll tell you, just⌠not today.â You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.
He chuckled at you. âWhat are we, five?â
âJust do it, asshole,â you smiled back.
He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.
Dean scratched his head. âSam, you ready?â he called.
Sam nodded and came over to the car.
âDonât you kids be strangers,â Missouri told you.
âWe wonât,â Dean responded.Â
âSee you around,â the woman winked at you.
You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.Â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo
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my psychologist will know your name...
Working on the next CHAPTER of HEARTS ACROSS UNIVERSES right now. What am I doing to cowboy!Dean? what am I doing to YN? This breaks my heart and my soul. Me crying
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In your dreams
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: You had just gone to sleep, only to find him in your dreams. Could he be real or is he just a figment of your imagination.
A/N: Hello! I have this idea for a series, let me know if you would like to read it and I will keep writing it. I promise! If you like it I will stablish a calendar and post regularly. What do you think? Should I do it? Let me know!
It almost felt like it started out of nowhere, but if you were to really think about it, you would remember how much your soul yearned for it, specially that night.
You had fallen asleep crying into your pillow, muffling the sounds to not wake up anyone. Next thing you know you were standing in a simple motel room with two double beds and a tv. The man sitting on the bed was mumbling to himself while trying to fix the remote control. The moment you set your eyes on him, even from behind, you recognized him. You could have thought about the actor who played him, but somehow you knew. Ultimately it was your dream.
 âDean?â you wondered out loud. He stood up and turned to face you quickly. âWho are you? What are you doing in my dreams?â He asked. You stared at him confused, âWhat do you mean? This is my dream.â You clarified. âNo, no, sweetheart. This is my dream, Iâm really sure about it.â He argued. âWell, we can agree to disagree. Because Iâm certain it´s my dream. After all you are fictional.â You responded.
âWoah, whoa. Stop right there. What do you mean fictional?â He demanded. âYou are not real, you Dean Winchester are a fictional character from Supernatural, and you are played by Jensen Ackles.â You said exasperated. You had thought this dream would be good, it wasnât every night you dreamt of your favorite fictional boyfriend, but the conversation was getting ridiculous. You have had crazy dreams, but here you were, explaining to a tv character that he wasnât real.
He threw his head into his hands and said âNot this again. Are you an angel? Have I been sent into that weird world again where Sam is married to Ruby?â
âWhat? No, that was just an episode. And thatâs actually similar to my world, but you havenât been sent anywhere, because you are just a figment of my imagination.â You explained. âBut thatâs just the thing sweetheart, Iâm real. You however, I have my doubts, I probably saw you somewhere on the street and my mind is toying with me.â He finished thoughtful. âAnd anyway, even if you were real, and I was fictional, why would you be dreaming of me?â He asked teasingly.
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you stopped making eye contact. Great, now your subconscious was embarrassing you. âNo reason, you know how dreams can be.â You said downplaying it. He walked towards you. âSorry to disappoint sweetheart but it wonât be that kind of dream⌠unless you really want it to be.â He winked, looked at the bed and laughed. âStop itâ You said, blushing.
âSo⌠now that we have stablished that neither of us believes the other one is real, and if you were, you would probably be in love with me. Iâd like to know your name.â He expressed. You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. âY/Nâ You said. âMy name is Y/Nâ
âY/Nâ he tested your name âI like it. It fits you.â He continued while watching you intensely. You felt a little dizzy, probably because you were holding your breath. It felt as if his eyes were really pulling you in. He took another step towards you, and before you could say anything else, you heard your alarm ring and opened your eyes to find yourself back in your bed.
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Bugs | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: BUGS lol, canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 7012
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You and Dean decided that after your last job, you deserved a break. You went to a bar to play that eight-ball game youâd talked about back in Ankeny. The two of you were pretty evenly matched; you had to admit. He would win a game, then you would win a game, and that pattern continued for quite a bit. Then youâd swapped to nine-ball. The two of you walked away from the pool tables and found a table when youâd grown tired of playing with each other.
âIâll admit, youâre pretty good, Winchester,â you told him.
âYou too, sweetheart,â he responded, chuckling.Â
âYouâre never gonna stop calling me that, are you?â you asked.
âNope.â
You pretended to be annoyed and rolled your eyes. âYou suck.â
âYou, too.â
You playfully glared at him.Â
âYou hustle?â he asked you.
âDuh,â you responded, taking a swig of your beer.Â
He chuckled. âHow âbout it? Iâm low on cash after I paid off that morgue tech.â
âHey, you did that on your own volition,â you joked back. âNobody forced you to pay him off. And maybe you lost even more cash after you lost that poker game to me yesterday.â
He glared back at you. âIâll get you next time.â
âSure. So whoâre you hustlinâ?â you asked.
He scanned the room for a moment. âThem.â He subtly nodded in the direction of a group of guys who looked around your and Deanâs age. They seemed kind of douchey, and youâd love to watch Dean kick their asses if you were being honest.Â
âEight or nine ball?â you asked him.
âNine.â
âOoh, good luck,â you told him.
âI wonât need it,â he answered arrogantly and began heading over to the group.Â
Your newfound friendship with Dean was slightly difficult for you due to your unbelievable attraction to him. The more you got to know him the more you began to like him for more than just his beautiful face. But you knew neither of you had the time for anything more than friendship, especially considering you knew youâd be hitting the road as soon as they found their dad. You chose not to focus on the finite amount of time you had with the Winchester boys and just enjoy it while it lasted.Â
As much as you tried to push the thought away, you couldnât deny that watching him hustle pool made you even more attracted to him.Â
âCute,â you told Dean sarcastically when he walked back over to your table waving a wad of cash in the air. âBut I betcha I can get us double the money.â You snatched his money out of his hands.Â
âHey!â he said. âI earned that.â
âAnd Iâll earn it back,â you smirked over your shoulder.Â
He quirked a brow at you as you âdrunkenlyâ walked away, watching you head over to a pool table surrounded by another group of young guys.Â
You wore a black tank top that showed off your cleavage, and stuck Deanâs money in the top of your bra while you sauntered over to the pool table. A tall blonde guy holding a cue stick was surrounded by his frat-boy posse hollering about how good the blonde guy played.Â
âFifty dollars to play!â One of the boys yelled.
âIâll play,â you piped up, looking down at the table set for nine-ball.
You pulled some cash out of the top of your bra and placed it on the rim of the pool table.Â
âUh, sweetheart,â the blond began, âThatâs only twenty.â
âOh, sorry,â you snorted out a laugh, putting thirty dollars on the table.Â
âSheâs hammered, dude,â one of the blondâs friends told him.
The blond waved him off, still looking over you. He handed you a pool cue with a smirk.Â
âYou break.â
You fumbled with the cue before lining up your shot. After you hit the cue ball, you allowed the wooden stick to slip clumsily out of your hands. The balls flew all over the table in different directions because you had struck them so hard. However, you had not managed to pocket a single one.Â
The blond lined up his shot. Managing to keep the dopey look on your face, you mentally smirked at his amateur hand bridge. This guy would be easy to beat. With his friends cheering him on, he pocketed the yellow one-ball but missed the shot he took at the nine-ball. The nine-ball was in the perfect position for you to win on your next two shots, but you were not going for the big bucks just yet.
âYour turn, baby,â the blond told you.Â
You resisted the urge to cringe at the nickname. You had never liked being called âbaby.â
Instead, you gave him a wide smile, walking up to the cue ball. You went to aim for the four-ball, but the blond stopped you.Â
âWhat are you doing?â
âAiming for the pretty purple ball,â you replied innocently. âAm I doing something wrong?â
âYou have to aim for the two-ball. You ever even played before?â he asked jokingly.
âNo,â you smiled.
He was not expecting that answer to his jest, his face dropping out of the smile. âThen why are you playing for money?â
âI thought you were cute and wanted to play with you.âÂ
The blond smirked down at you.Â
Before he could respond, you said, âCâmon! I wanna keep playing. This is fun.â You lined up and hit the two ball, knocking it only a little bit closer to the pocket than the blond had gotten it.Â
He ended up sinking the two-ball and then the nine-ball after that, his friends cheering for him. He took the money off the table. âMaybe next time.â
âOoh, can we play again? Please?â you whined.Â
He looked around at his friends. They all shrugged.Â
You took all of the money out of your bra, including fifty dollars of your own to compensate for the fifty you just lost. You did promise Dean you would double the amount he had earned, after all.Â
The blond laughed nervously. âUh, thatâs a lot more than fifty dollars.â
âIs it?â you pretended you were surprised. âOh, well. Weâll just play for whatever this is, then.â
One of the blondâs friends, a brunet, was already counting the money. âThis is three-hundred dollars, man.â
âLook, youâre really drunk. Thatâs a lot of money,â the blond said. âLetâs just stop.â
âNo,â you begged, âplease? Itâll be fine!â
He finally conceded, collecting a total of three hundred dollars between himself and his friends.Â
On the break, he hit the one-ball and the five-ball ended up falling into the left side pocket. However, on the shot he took at the nine-ball, he missed.Â
You hit the two-ball, sank it, and clapped excitedly. You aimed for the three-ball next, hitting it between the right side and back pockets. The ball hit the wall and stopped only two inches off of it, giving the blond no shot at sinking it on his next turn.Â
He ended up pushing the three-ball and the cue ball into the perfect position for you to hit the red ball into the hole. Once you sank the three-ball, you lined up the cue behind the cue ball and hit the nine-ball into one of the pockets. Blondie and his friends stood there slack-jawed.Â
âI won!â you cheered, giggling. You gave Blondie a kiss on the cheek when you took your money.Â
You walked back over to Dean with your hips swishing confidently. Smirking, you held up your winnings.Â
He took them from your hands, counting the money. âDamn. Iâm impressed.â
You feigned shock. âDean Winchester? Impressed by something I did?â
âCan it, (Y/N).â
You walked outside of the bar with Dean at your side. You waved the money in your hand back and forth triumphantly as you approached the Impala that Sam sat atop flipping through newspapers. He looked disapproving. âYâknow, we could get day jobs once in a while.â
"Hunting's our day job,â you countered.Â
âYeah, and the pay is crap,â Dean added.Â
âAmen.â
âYeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, guys,â the younger brother argued.
âWell, let's see, honestââ Dean began, and you held out one hand palm-up for âhonest,â ââFun and easy,â he finished.
You held out the other hand, representing a scale, tipping it to the side of âfun and easy.âÂ
âIt's no contest,â you shrugged.Â
âBesides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do,â Dean added.
Sam was still not convinced. âYeah, well, how we were raised was jacked.â
âYeah, says you,â sassed Dean. âWe got a new gig or what?â
âMaybe. Oasis Plains, Oklahomaâ not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob.â
âGesundheit,â you commented.
âHuman mad cow disease.â Sam shot you a playful glare.Â
âMad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?â Dean asked.
âYou watch Oprah?â you responded.
The older brother looked embarrassed and couldnât think of anything to say. He decided to change the subject. âSo this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?â
âMad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less,â Sam stated.
You nodded slowly. âOh-kay, that is weird.â
âYeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be somethin' much nastier,â Sam told you.
âAlright. Oklahoma,â Dean said, beginning to get in the car. You and Sam followed suit. âMan. Work, work, work,â the older Winchester sighed. âNo time to spend my money.â
âYou mean our money,â you said, handing him three hundred. You kept the other three.Â
âRight.â He put the money in his wallet and began driving off.Â
***
Dean had driven you to the gas and power company the deceased had worked at. You approached a man with shaggy hair and a scruffy chin who you had learned from another employee was the man who discovered Dustinâs dead body.
âTravis Weaver?â Sam called.
âYeah, that's right.â The man turned to you.
âAre you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?â Dean asked.
âDustin never mentioned nephews. Or a niece,â he responded.
âReally? Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest.â
You nodded, affirming Deanâs lie.
Travis smiled sadly. âOh, he did? Huh.â
âI hate to ask you, but⌠what exactly happened out there?â you asked.
âI'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh... by the time I got backâŚâ he trailed off, face contorting in discomfort.
âWhat did you see?â Dean questioned.
Travis shook his head. âNothin'. Just Dustin.â
âNo wounds or anything?â Sam chimed in.
âWell, he was bleeding... from his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it.â
âSo you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?â Dean asked.
âI don't know. That's what the doctors are sayin'.â
âI donât know, it just doesnât feel right to me,â you added. âUncle Dusty just never acted like that to me.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âWell, if it was, he wouldâve acted like he had dementia, a loss of motor control, you ever notice anything like that?â you asked.
âNo. No way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?âÂ
âThat's a good question,â Dean responded.
âYou know, can you tell us where this happened?â Sam asked.
Travis nodded. He instructed Dean the path to follow in order to find the scene of the incident. Surrounding the sinkhole he had fallen in was police tape, but the neighborhood it was in seemed mostly uninhabited except for a few construction workers milling about.
âHuh.â Dean looked down into the hole. âWhat do you think?â
âI don't know. But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast,â Sam responded.
You ducked under the tape and looked down into the hole with a flashlight.Â
âSo, what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?â Deanâs face scrunched up in confusion.Â
You shook your head. âNo, there'd be an entry wound. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside.â
âLooks like there's only room for one,â Dean commented. âHate to say it, sweetheart, youâre gonna have to get down there.â
You flinched back. âWhat? No. We have no idea whatâs down there.â
He picked up a nearby coil of rope. âAlright, I'll go if you're scared. You scared?â
âNo. Dick.â Your stubbornness would not let you back down despite the genuine fear clawing at your throat. When you were younger, your father would often starve you to ensure you could fit into small spaces such as the hole you were about to journey down. You had no doubt you wouldâve grown taller than 5â6â had he not done this. Even still, you mustered your courage. âI'm going.â
âI said I'd go,â Dean argued.
âI'm going,â you pressed, taking the end of the rope from him. You tied it around your waist. âDonât drop me.â
âI wonât.â
âSam, donât let him drop me.â
Sam chuckled.
âWhat?â Dean sounded offended. âYou donât trust me?â
âNope,â you smiled, clambering down into the hole. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, you were surprised by what youâd found.
Dean drove, and Sam was examining the dead beetle youâd found in the sinkhole. Some bugs you could handle, but beetles were not one you could spend prolonged periods of time looking at.Â
âSo you found some beetles. In a hole, in the ground. That's shocking, (Y/N),â Dean quipped.
You shook your head. âDude, no. There were no tunnels, no tracks, nothing. No evidence of any other creature down there.â
âYou know,â Sam added, âsome beetles do eat meat. Now, it's usually dead meat, butâŚâ
âHow many did you find down there?â Dean asked you.
âTen.â
âIt'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain, Sam.â
âWell, maybe there were more,â his brother argued.
âI don't know, it sounds like a stretch to me,â Dean responded.
âWell, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whether something like this has ever happened before,â you added. A sign advertising an open house decorated with red balloons caught your eye.
Sam was looking back at you. âWhat?â
âThere.â You pointed to the sign.Â
You passed another that read, âModels Open. New Buyers' BBQ Today!"
âI'm kinda hungry for a little barbeque, how 'bout you?â Dean remarked.
Sam gave him a look.
âWhat, we can't talk to the locals?â
You snickered. âAnd the free food's got nothin' to do with it?â
âOf course not. I'm a professional.â
His brother rolled his eyes. âRight.â
Dean pulled over and the three of you got out of the car to walk toward the open house.
âGrowin' up in a place like this would freak me out,â Dean remarked.
âDitto,â you said.
âWhy?â Sam looked at the two of you like you were crazy.Â
âManicured lawns, âHow was your day, honey?â I'd blow my brains out,â Dean chuckled.
âWhite picket fence,â you sing-songed, âprivate school, stay-at-home moms with three snotty childrenâ no thanks.â
âThere's nothing wrong with ânormal,â â Sam rebutted.
âI'd take our family over normal any day,â the older Winchester said. He approached the house and knocked on the door.Â
A man in a steamed collared shirt opened the door. âWelcome,â he said.
âThis the barbeque?â Dean asked.
âYeah, not the best weather,â he replied, referencing the gray sky, âbut... I'm Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are... ?â
âDean. This is Sam and (Y/N).â He shook Larryâs hand.
âSam, Dean, (Y/N), good to meet you. So, you three are interested in Oasis Plains?â
âYes, sir,â the older brother responded.
âLet me just sayââ You had no idea where Larry was going with thisâ âwe accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation.â
You realized what he was trying to say. âTheyâre brothers. Iâm just a friend.â
Larry nodded and seemed slightly embarrassed.
âOur father is getting on in years,â Sam explained, âand we're just lookin' for a place for him.â
Larry laughed awkwardly âGreat, great. Well, seniors are welcome, too. Come on in.â He guided you to the backyard where dozens of people were chatting and eating. âEighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains.â He brought you over to a woman around his age. âThis is my wife, Joanie.â
âHi there,â she smiled.
Larry introduced the three of you to her before saying, âTell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses.â
She laughed. âRight.â
This painfully fake interaction you were having reeked of Middle America. It was making you sick.Â
Larry left you alone with Joanie who said, âDon't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live.â
A very energetic woman with bright, Ariel-red hair pulled back in a tight bun approached your group. âHi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales,â she grinned.
âAnd Lynda was second to move in,â Joanie went on. âShe's a very noisy neighbor, though.â
Even Lyndaâs laugh was obnoxious. âShe's kidding, of course. I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners.â
Before any of you could answer, she said, âWell, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation.â
Dean chuckled. âRight. Um... I'm gonna go talk to Larry.â Dean began walking away. âOkay, honeys?â He smacked you on your ass as he left.
You nearly yelped in surprise. The rest of your interaction with Lynda became very awkward. You were barely interested in what she was saying about the various features of the home. âWho can say "no" to a steam shower? I use mine everyday.â
You nodded, forcing a smile. âSounds great.â
Sam noticed something just beyond her, saying, âExcuse me,â and pushing her out of the way. What he had picked up off the picnic table was a large tarantula. You noticed a snickering boy with shaggy brown hair a few feet behind where Lynda had been standing.Â
Sam walked over to the boy. âIs this yours?â
The boy took the spider from him. âYou gonna tell my dad?â
âI don't know. Who's your dad?â
The teen scoffed. âYeah, Larry usually skips me in the family introductions.â
You sucked air in through your teeth. âOuch. First name basis with your dadâ sounds pretty grim.â
âWell, I'm not exactly brochure material,â the kid remarked.
âWell, hang in there. It gets better, all right? I promise,â Sam said.
The kid didnât seem convinced. âWhen?â
You heard Larry call the name, âMatthew!â You turned to see the older man and Dean walking toward you.
âI am so sorry about my son and his... pet.â
âClearly thereâs some issues there.â
You shook your head. âNo big.â
âExcuse us.â Larryâs face was set and hardened, pulling his son away from you and the boys.
âRemind you of somebody?â Sam asked his brother. He was gesturing toward the arguing father and son. âDad?â
âDad never treated us like that,â Dean argued.
âWell, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?â
âWell, maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line.â
Sam scoffed. âRight. Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bowhunting.â
âBowhunting's an important skill,â Dean replied. You agreed with him, but chose to say out of the brotherly debate.
âWhatever. How was your tour?â Sam asked.
Dean turned on the sarcasm. âOh, it was excellent. I'm ready to buy. So you might be onto somethin'. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here.â
âWhat happened?â you questioned.
âAbout a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this severe allergic reaction to bee stings.â
You nodded. âMore bugs.â
***
Later that evening, Sam was driving you and Dean through the neighborhood. You put your head on Deanâs shoulder over the back of the front seat as he flipped through his fatherâs journal. He had looked at you strangely and tensed up when youâd first rested your head on him, but you just shrugged in response. To your surprise, he allowed you to stay there.
âYou know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles?â Dean shook his head. âWhat is it that could make different bugs attack?â
âWell, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations,â Sam replied.
âYeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity,â the older brother said, referring to his house tour.
âMe neither,â you added.
âMaybe they're being controlled somehow. You know, by something or someone,â Dean stated.
âYou mean, like Willard?â Sam chuckled.
âYeah, bugs instead of rats.â
âThere are cases of psychic connections between people and animals - elementals, telepaths,â Sam continued.
âYeah, that whole Lassie thing,â you commented. You were thoughtful for a moment. âLarry's kidâ he's got bugs for pets.â
âMatt?â Sam seemed unconvinced. âHe did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula.â
âYou think he's our Willard?â
âI don't know. Anything's possible, I guess.â
Something caught Deanâs attention. âOoh, hey. Pull over here.â
Your head perked up.Â
Sam pulled into the empty driveway of one of the Oasis Plains homes. âWhat are we doing here?â
Dean got out of the car and began pulling the garage door up and open. âIt's too late to talk to anybody else.â
Sam scoffed. âWe're gonna squat in an empty house?â
âI wanna try the steam shower. Come on,â his brother responded simply.
Sam didnât move.Â
âCome on!â Dean urged.
Sam rolled his eyes but complied and pulled into the driveway. Dean closed it behind him.
To your surprise, the home was fully furnished. You assumed it was for staging house tours. You and the boys were thankful to find three beds within the home, avoiding the awkward task of deciding who was going to have to sleep with who. And for the first time in quite a while, you slept incredibly well on the soft mattress and plush pillows.
***
The next morning, you found Sam remaking the bed he had slept in down the hall from yours. He had the police scanner quietly droning on in the background.
âHowâd you sleep?â you asked, yawning.
âHow do you think,â he replied dryly.
âThatâs what I was worried about.â
Sam sighed.
âDude, we gotta get you right,â you told him. âYouâre gonna end up really hurt.â
Before he could respond, the static of the police scanner coming alight with conversation caught your attention. Male voices spoke back and forth about a death that happened in what you recognized as the Oasis Plains area.
âYou finish cleaning up; Iâll get Dean,â you told Sam, who nodded. Dean had been serious about indulging in the steam shower. Heâd been in the guest bathroom since you woke up that morning.
âYou ever comin' out of there?â you called through the door.
âWhat?â he responded.
You could still hear the water running. âA call came in on the scanner.â
âHold on.â
âSomeone was found dead three blocks from here. Come on.â
The door opened a bit to reveal Dean and his towel-wrapped head. Steam poured out into the hallway. âThis shower is awesome,â he smiled.
You laughed in response. âCome on.â You walked away to finish helping Sam gather your things and hide the fact that someone had been here.Â
When you arrived at the crime scene, a body bag was being wheeled out on a stretcher. You found out from a visibly upset Larry that the realtor, Lynda Bloome, had been the one to pass away. The three of you discovered about a dozen dead spiders underneath a towel near where the outline of her body had been mapped out, and decided to pay Matt a visit.Â
It took a few hours, but you discovered where Matt went to school and followed his bus route. You watched when he got off the bus.
âIsn't his house that way?â Dean pointed in the opposite direction of where Matt was walking.Â
You nodded. âYup. So whereâs he goinâ?â
The three of you began following the teenager from a bit of a distance. Unfortunately for you, he headed into the woods.Â
âSeriously, kid?â you muttered. âAlways the fucking woods.â
Dean chuckled at your discomfort.Â
âShut up, asshole,â you quipped.
Sam approached Matt first. âHey, Matt. Remember me?â
âWhat are you doin' out here?â he asked, surprised.
âWell, we wanna talk to you,â Dean responded.
âYou're not here to buy a house, are you?â
You shook your head.
âW-wait. You're not serial killers?â Matt began backing away from you.
âNo. I think youâre safe,â you smiled.
âSo, Matt... you sure know a lot about insects,â Sam began.
âSo?â he shrugged.
âDid you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?â Dean asked.
âI hear she died this morning,â Matt responded.
âMm, that's right. Spider bites.â
âMatt... you tried to scare her with a spider.â Samâs tone was accusatory without being harsh.
âWait. You think I had something to do with that?â
âYou tell us,â you responded.
Matt scoffed humorlessly. âThat tarantula was a joke. Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy.â
âYou know about those?â Now you were the one being accusatory.
âThere is somethin' going on here. I don't know what... but something's happening with the insects. Let me show you something.â Matt shouldered his bag and led you deeper into the woods. You hoped he knew where the hell he was going and how the hell to get back.
âSo, if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad? Maybe he could clear everybody out,â Sam suggested.
âBelieve me, I've tried. But, uh, Larry doesn't listen to me.â
âWhy not?â
âMostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son.â
Sam scoffed. âI hear you.â
Dean seemed surprised. âYou do?â
Sam gave him a look before turning back to Matt. âMatt, how old are you?â
âSixteen.â
âWell, don't sweat it, because in two years, something great's gonna happen.â
âWhat?â
âCollege. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad.â
Dean was upset. âWhat kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family.â
Sam sighed and glared at his brother.Â
You tried to break the tension. âHow much further, Matt?â
You knew Matt felt awkward, too. âWe're close.â
Sam glared at Dean once more before continuing walking. Moments later, you reached a large clearing. As youâd been approaching, the sound of insects buzzing had gotten louder and louder. Hundreds of them flew about the clearing.Â
âI've been keeping track of insect populations. It's, um, part of an AP science class,â the teen explained.
âYou two are like peas in a pod,â Dean remarked.
Sam ignored him. âWhat's been happening?â
âA lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles... you name it. It's like they're congregating here,â Matt went on.Â
âWhy?â Deanâs brows knitted together.Â
âI don't know,â he responded.
You caught sight of a dark, bumpy patch of grass a few feet away. âWhatâs that?â
Matt looked at you and seemed curious as well. He led you once more over to the pile. Your skin began to crawl at the sight of hundreds of wriggling earthworms. Dean accidently stepped on a pile of them and it sank into the ground. You pulled him back by the arm to avoid him falling, too. You let him go, and he crouched to the ground. He used a stick to poke around. He then dropped the stick and stuck his hand straight into the hole. When his hand came back up, he was holding a human skull covered in dirt and worms.
âGnarley,â you said.Â
***
Sam suggested bringing the remains to the department of anthropology at a local university. âSo, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave,â he said as you approached the building.
âMaybe it is a haunting,â you added. âPissed off spirits? Unfinished business?â
âYeah, maybe. Question is, why bugs? And why now?â
The older brother quipped, âThat's two questions.â
Sam ignored him.Â
Dean continued. âYeah, so with that kid back there... why'd you tell him to just ditch his family like that?â
âJust, uh... I know what the kid's goin' through,â his brother shrugged.
âHow 'bout tellin' him to respect his old man, how's that for advice?â Deanâs tone was sharp.
âDean, come on.â Sam stopped walking, and you and Dean followed suit. âThis isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about.â
âJust forget it, all right? Sorry I brought it up.â Dean shook his head.Â
âI respected him. But no matter what I did, it was never good enough.â
âSo what are you sayin'? That Dad was disappointed in you?â
âWas? Is. Always has been,â Sam bit back.
âWhy would you think that?â
âBecause I didn't wanna bowhunt or hustle poolâ because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, to our whacked-out family, made me the freak.â
âYeah, you were kind of like the blonde chick in The Munsters,â Dean grunted.
âDean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house.â
You were accustomed to their normal sibling spats, but this was different.
Dean kept pushing. âI remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases comin' out of your mouth.â
âYou know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad... I don't know if he's even gonna wanna see me.â The brunet sounded sad.
âSam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never. He was scared.â
âWhat are you talkin' about?â
âHe was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talkin'... he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could.â
Samâs smirk faded.
âKeep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe,â Dean finished.
âWhat?â Samâs puppy dog eyes were back.
âYeah.â
âWhy didn't you tell me any of that?â the younger brother asked.
âWell, it's a two-way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone.â
Sam stared at him sadly.
âCome on, we're gonna be late for our appointment,â Dean grumbled.Â
***
The professor youâd gone to see at the college informed you of a Euchee tribe outside of Sapulpa that the bones Dean had found might have belonged to. The three of you now headed over to a diner one of the local Native Americans had directed you to. He had told you how to find Joe White tree, a bit of a patriarch of their group.
You found him playing cards at his table in the diner.
âJoe White Tree?â Sam asked.
The man nodded.
âWe'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right.â
Dean continued for his brother, saying, âWe're students from the universityââ
The man cut him off. âNo, you're not. You're lying.â
Dean seemed taken aback. âWell, truth isââ
âYou know who starts sentence with âtruth isâ? Liars,â Joe responded.
Dean looked at you and Sam strangely.Â
âHave you heard of Oasis Plains?â you asked. âIt's a housing development near the Atoka Valley.â
âI like her,â Joe told Dean. âShe's not a liar.â
You smiled.Â
Joe turned back to you. âI know the area.â
âWhat can you tell us about the history there?â
âWhy do you wanna know?â
You considered for a moment. âSomething bad is happening in Oasis Plains. I think it may have something to do with a Native American grave we found there.â
âI'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him,â Joe began. âTwo hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant, the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time the sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead. They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people.â
âInsects. Sounds like nature to me. Six days,â Dean stated.
âAnd on the night of the sixth day, none would survive,â Joe finished his story.
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look with you.Â
âThank you, sir,â you said.Â
Joe nodded at you before you and the boys headed off.Â
âWhen did the gas company man die?â Sam asked after you had made it outside.
âUh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so, Friday the twentieth,â Dean responded.
âMarch twentieth?â You thought for a moment. âThat's the spring equinox.â
âThe night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals,â Sam finished. âSo, every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger. Larry built this neighborhood on cursed land.â
âAnd on the sixth nightâ that's tonight,â Dean finished.
âIf we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise. So how do we break the curse?âÂ
âYou don't break a curse. You get out of its way. We've gotta get those people out now,â Dean said sharply.Â
The three of you got in the car and sped away.
***
Dean drove while he spoke with Larry on the phone. âYes, Mr. Pike, there's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood⌠Well, it's fairly extensive. I don't want to alarm you, but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least twelve hours or so, just to be safe⌠Travis Weaver. I work for Oklahoma Gas and Power⌠UhâŚâ He panicked and quickly hung up.
Sam gestured for the phone. He learned from Matt that his backyard was crawling with cockroaches. He urged him to get his family out of the house, and Dean told him he needed to, under no circumstances, tell his father the truth about what was happening.Â
When you arrived at the Pike residence, Larry rushed out of the house. âGet off my property before I call the cops.â
âMr. Pike, listen,â Sam urged.
âDad, they're just tryin' to help,â Matt pleaded from the doorway.
âGet in the house!â Larry ordered.
Matt addressed you and the boys. âI'm sorry. I told him the truth.â
âWe had a plan, Matt, what happened to the plan?â Dean grunted through his teeth.
âLook, it's 12:00 AM. They are coming any minute now. You need to leave now, before it's too late,â you told Larry.
âYeah, you mean before the biblical swarm,â he replied humorlessly.
âLarry, what do you think really happened to that realtor, huh? And the gas company guy? You don't think somethin' weird's goin' on here?â Dean questioned.
âLook, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy. You come near my boy or my family again, and we're gonna have a problem,â Larry told you.
âWell, I hate to be a downer, but we've got a problem right now,â the older brother responded.
âDad, they're right, okay? We're in danger.âÂ
âMatt, get inside! Now!â
Matt stepped further out onto the porch. âNo! Why won't you listen to me?!â
âBecause this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!â Larry yelled back.
âLook, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?â
âWait!â you shushed the group.
Everyone went silent.
âYou hear it?â
From a distance away, there was a faint buzzing that got louder and louder rapidly.
âWhat the hell?â Larry muttered.Â
The fluorescent bug light on the porch began overheating; killing several bugs at a time. The buzzing got even louder. Millions of bugs blanketed the sky, heading straight to you.
âOh my God.â Your breath quickened. âEverybody in the house, now!â
You and Dean held up the rear of the group, and you felt his hand on your back guiding you inside. You locked the door behind Dean.
âOkay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood?â Sam asked Larry.
âNo, it's just us.â
Joanie entered the room. âHoney, what's happening? What's that noise?â
âCall 911,â Larry instructed her. âJoanie!â
She seemed caught off-guard. âOkay.â She picked up the phone and began to dial.Â
âI need towels,â Dean told Larry.
âUh, in the closet.â
Sam and Matt went upstairs while you and Dean packed the base of the front door with the towels you found.
âPhones are dead,â Joanie informed you.
âThey must have chewed through the phone lines.â Dean shook his head as the lights went out.
âAnd the power lines,â you grumbled.
Larry tried his cell phone only to get no signal.
âYou won't get one. They're blanketing the house.â Dean looked towards the windows that were beginning to darken from the thousands of bugs collecting on them.
âSo what do we do now?â Larry asked.
Sam had come back downstairs with Matt. âWe try to outlast it. Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise.â
âHopefully?â Larryâs eyebrows raised in shock.
You looked to Dean. âYou have your zippo lighter?âÂ
He seemed to catch on to what you were suggesting and nodded. The two of you broke off to the kitchen and found bug spray under one of the cabinets.
Joanie seemed unimpressed when you returned with the can.
âJust trust us,â you told her.
A creaking sound from the fireplace caught your attention.
âWhat is that?â Mattâs voice was higher pitched than normal.
âThe flue,â Sam answered.
âAlright, I think everybody needs to get upstairs,â Dean ordered.
Suddenly, thousands of bugs poured into the living room from the fireplace, swarming all around you. Dean used his zippo to light the can of bug spray. âAlright, everybody upstairs! Now! Go, go, go!â
You covered your ears and ran upstairs to the attic with Sam and Dean close by you. You could hear bugs thumping against the attic hatch door; trying desperately to get in. There was only a few moments reprieve before you heard gnawing above you.
âOh, God, what's that?â Joanie cried.
âSomething's eating through the wood,â Dean replied.
âTermites,â Matt added.
Dean ordered the family to get back from the spot where sawdust was beginning to descend and bits of moonlight were coming through. Moments later, bugs began to fill the room through the chewed in spot. You and the boys frantically tried to patch the hole, swatting bugs away from you like a madwoman. You were able to shove a board of wood with another under it to hold it up, but that only worked for a second. Two other holes were chewed through the roof, raining bugs down on you. You covered your ear with one hand and swatted bugs away with the other. You and the boys backed up into the Pikes, who were huddled in the corner. Dean tried his best to light the bugs up, but nothing was working. Then, miraculously, the sun began to rise. Thankfully, all of the bugs began to fly out of the holes theyâd chewed through the roof. You watched through the same holes as they flew up toward the sun. You breathed a sigh of relief.Â
***
The next morning, you and the boys were about to head out of town but stopped by the Pike residence on the way. You approached the moving van that Larry was loading boxes into.
âWhat, no goodbye?â Dean joked.
âGood timing. Another hour and we'd have been gone,â Larry answered. He shook your hand.
âFor good?â you asked.
âYeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again,â Larry explained.
âYou don't seem too upset about it.â
âWell, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, butâŚâ He looked over to Matt, who was carrying a box in the garage. â...somehow, I really don't care.â
You smiled at him.
Sam walked over to Matt, who was throwing away all of his insect paraphernalia. You looked on fondly as the two smiled and laughed. You bid Larry goodbye and went over to the car with Dean. Seconds later, Sam joined you.
âI wanna find Dad,â the brunet said.
âYeah, me too,â Dean nodded.
âYeah, but I just... I want to apologize to him.â
âFor what?â
âAll the things I said to him. He was just doin' the best he could.â
âWell, don't worry, we'll find him. And then you'll apologize. And then within five minutes, you guys will be at each other's throats.â
You laughed. âI wanna find him, too.â
The boys looked at you strangely.
âI wanna kick his ass to hell and back for leaving you two alone.â
Dean shook his head. âIâm sure he had his reasons.â
âWell, whatever they are, they arenât good enough,â you quipped. âAnd I wanna thank him. If it werenât for him, I never wouldâve met you two.â
Sam smiled at you fondly at y0u. Dean had a look on his face you couldnât quite read.
âI thought we agreed on no chick flick moments, (Y/N),â Dean remarked. âCâmon, letâs hit the road.â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian
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HEARTS ACROSS UNIVERSES MASTERLIST
summary A mysterious amulet sends her to another dimension but she's met with the identical hunters she's been with for years. Not fate, but she must decide - stay and begin a new life or return and maybe never find her true love?
warnings fluff, angst, sweraing, heartbreak, comfort
words 19.6k more coming
a/n this will be a cowboy!Dean ? x reader x hunter!Dean ? I cant promise that I'll write fast but I'll finish this story as quick as I can. This one is inspired by @jay-and-dean & @roonyxx Series Stolen Crown
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
...
tags @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @muhahaha303 @clairealeehelsing @winharry @rosecentury
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What's Mine
Dean Winchester x Reader
You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you
The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.
âYou ok?â He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile âHad worseâ you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.
âYou two good?â Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked âBeen in a lot worse positionsâ you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest âShut up and get off me Winchesterâ he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully âOh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want meâ
You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.
âOh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasmâ you shot back and he grinned âOh I'd take ya anyway I could have yaâ you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.
You looked from Sam to Dean âI need a showerâ you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed âThere's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hayâ
Dean grinned âThat's my girlâ and Sam shook his head âYou two need to get a roomâ Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.
You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?
You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.
You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.
â--------------
Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. âYou good sweetheart?â He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?
He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.
He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam âWho's going to the bar?â He raised his hand slightly âyou want your usual?â You nodded âYes pleaseâ when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been âIf you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic manâ
â-------------
After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.
When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.
The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because âAin't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join themâ
You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.
âHey Domâ you greeted with a smile. âHow ya been?â He asked and you shrugged âYou know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a winâ
â------------
Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.
He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. âIsn't that Dom?â He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. âYeah it isâ
The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. âShe doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?â He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder âLet meâ
â-----------------
What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar âWhich one is it?â âWhich one is what?â You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. âWhich Winchester are you fucking?â
Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say âThat would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?â You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.
You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.
âWhat was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?â You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.
Dom shrugged âYeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking herâ his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added âOr both of yaâ
You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving âBaby,let's get Sammy and leaveâ you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.
He nodded âYeah. Let's get back to the hotelâ he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said âDoes she still make that little sound right before sheâŚâ
He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. âSAM!â You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.
You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. âI got himâ You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch âC'mon he ain't worth itâ
Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. âYeah let's goâ he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose âSo i was right. She's been fucking youâ
You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. âIf I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with meâ you felt your face warm when a chorus of âOoohhsâ went through the bar.
You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door âI'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some mannersâ
The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.
â-------------
You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door âCan we talk?â You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded âYeah. Come onâ you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.
âI'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend meâ You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head âI'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved youâ you smiled slightly âHelluva punch and helluva kissâ
He smirked âI meant itâ âThe punch?â You asked and he rolled his eyes âThe kiss you bratâ you grinned âOh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?â
He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. âThat sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?â You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat âNot like you've made a move to show me your abilitiesâ
â--------------
He stopped just shy of touching you âLet me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of youâ âGoodâ you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck âI've wanted you for so longâ he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. âI'm yours Dean. I've been yoursâ you whispered and he groaned âGonna be the death of meâ
His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip âYou're so damn beautifulâ he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.
Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.
âI need more of you, pleaseâ he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. âYou have all of me Deanâ you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.
He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.
â--------------
You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head âPlease Dean, too muchâ he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you âWorth the wait?â You nodded weakly âPlease take your pants off and get up hereâ
He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.
âDean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside meâ He grinned against your skin âYes ma'amâ you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.
Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder âYou can moveâ he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned âThat's my girlâ before setting a punishing pace.
â------------
You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. âDean please. I can't take any moreâ you begged and he kissed your cheek âOne more baby. Please. You've got one more for meâ
His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. âFuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me upâ you sobbed, fucked senseless.
He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.
â----------------
He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.
After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. âNo regrets on wanting me?â He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him âWhy? You already sick of me?â You teased and his eyes narrowed âDon't even womanâ
You laughed lightly âI'm sure Dean. You're who I wantâ âGood, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from meâ you shook your head âNot happening Winchester. You're stuck with meâ He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying âI've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my armsâ
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Hook Man | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of religious trauma/parental abuse
Word Count: 4869
A/N: Guys. We hit a bit of a milestone earlier in the week. Just wanted to say in celebration that I am so beyond grateful for all of your love and support. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! Giving big big kisses to all of you!!! Taglist is open!!
Edit: Hey.... I suck I forgot to add the taglist when I published. So sorry!!! fixed now!!!!
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You and Dean were sat at an outdoor cafe; coffee cups in hand. He was clacking away at his laptop while you wrote in your journal. You wrote your excerpt on the shapeshifter next to a drawing of Deanâs necklace.Â
âIs thatâŚ?â Dean asked, pointing to your journal.
You nodded.Â
âI didnât know you could draw,â he said.
âNo offense, lovebug, but you donât know much of anything about me,â you retorted.
He scoffed. âWill you take the compliment and be quiet?â
âI didnât hear a compliment,â you giggled. âWell, maybe in âDean Winchester Landâ it was a compliment.â
âOh, shut up,â he responded playfully.Â
Sam hung up the payphone he was standing in and came back over to your table.
âYour, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettinâ cold over here, Francis,â Dean jabbed at his brother.
âHey, donât knock it âtil you try it,â you told him.
âSo, anything?â Dean asked Sam.
Sam huffed. âI had âem check the FBIâs Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Does fitting Dadâs description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.â
âSam, Iâm tellinâ ya, I donât think Dad wants to be found.â
Sam looked disappointed.
âCheck this out.â Dean turned his laptop around to you and Sam. âItâs a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. Itâs only about a hundred miles from here.â
âThank god, a short trip,â you sighed.Â
â âThe mutilated body was found near the victimâs car, parked on 9 Mile Road,â â Sam read from the article.
âKeep reading.â Dean nodded at his laptop.
â âAuthorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.â â
That last line caught your attention. âCould be something interesting.â
âOr it could be nothing at all,â Sam protested. âOne freaked out witness who didnât see anything? Doesnât mean itâs the Invisible Man.â
âBut what if it is? Dad would check it out,â Dean responded.
***
The one hundred mile drive concluded with the boys dropping you off at a sorority house.Â
âRemind me why I have to play barbies for the week again?â you asked.
âBecause this is Lori Sorensenâs sorority house; the witness from the killing,â Sam replied.
âGreat,â you mumbled.
âHave fun making sâmores and singing campfire songs,â Dean remarked.
âBite me,â you snarked. âYouâre going to a frat, though, Steve McQueen, so I wouldnât be so cocky.âÂ
âYeah, donât remind me,â he grumbled.Â
âIâll catch up with you guys later,â you said and shouldered your duffel bag. You bid them goodbye and reluctantly marched up to the door of the sorority house.
A girl with long, dark curls opened the door. âHi,â she said. âCan I⌠help you?â
âYeah, Iâm (Y/N),â you explained. âIâm your sorority sister from Ohio State. Do you guys have an extra bed I could sleep in? I just transferred here.â
âSure,â she grinned. âIâm Taylor, by the way.âÂ
âNice to meet you.âÂ
She led you inside and introduced you to Lori Sorensen. She was a sweet girl; very naive and a little stuck-up. Taylor seemed a little more like a party girl, but still relatively tame. You decided you could gel with these girls for the time being.Â
They told you they were headed to Sunday service at Loriâs fatherâs church and invited you to go with them. You obliged.
In the middle of the introductory rites, you heard the heavy church door slam shut. Your head swiveled to find Sam and Dean frozen and looking guilty. You scoffed amusedly and rolled your eyes, turning your attention forward for the rest of the service.Â
Taylor invited you and Lori out to a party after the service, but Lori said she couldnât. Her father had dinner with her every Sunday since her mother passed away. She and Taylor hugged and Taylor bid you goodbye before heading off.
Sam and Dean came over to you and Lori.
âGuys!â you said excitedly. âSam, Dean, this is Lori.â You introduced her to them. âTheyâre my friends from Ohio. They transferred with me.âÂ
âI saw you inside,â she told them.
âWe donât wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened andâŚâ
Dean cut his brother off. âWe wanted to say how sorry we were.â
You knew where this was going; he was cruising for another hookup.
âI kind of know what youâre going through,â Sam broke back in. âI-I saw someone..get hurt once. Itâs something you donât forget.â
Lori nodded slightly. Just then, her father came up to your group.
âDad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). Theyâre new students.â
Dean shook the reverendâs hand. âItâs a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.â
âThank you very much,â he smiled. âItâs so nice to find young people who are open to the Lordâs message.âÂ
âYes, sir,â you replied and began leading him away from Sam and Lori. âActually, weâre looking for a new church groupâŚâ
***
Later that day, you and the boys were sitting together in the local library. Sam relayed to you what Lori had told him about the passing of the guy she was with.
âSo, you believe her?â Dean asked him.
âI do,â he nodded.
âYeah, I think sheâs hot, too.â Dean smirked at him.Â
âYou think almost everything with a vagina and legs is hot, Dean,â you remarked.
âNot you,â he jabbed back, still smirking.
You clutched a hand to your chest. âIâm hurt, you dick.â
He rolled his eyes at you.
âCan we focus, please?â Sam broke in. âThereâs something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.â
âWait, the body suspended? That sounds like theââ
 Sam cut you off. âYeah, I know, the Hook Man legend.âÂ
âThatâs one of the most famous urban legends ever,â Dean added. âYou donât think that weâre dealing with the Hook Man.â
âEvery urban legend has a source. A place where it all began,â said Sam.
âYeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?â
âWell, maybe the Hook Man isnât a man at all. What if itâs some kind of spirit?âÂ
You had the librarian bring over boxes of arrest records. The three of you poured through pages upon pages for hours.Â
âHey, check this out. 1862,â Sam said finally. âA preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, âsome of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.â â
âGet this, the murder weapon?â Dean was looking at another page. âLooks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.âÂ
You pointed to a page in Samâs book. âLook where all this happened. Nine Mile Road.â
âSame place where the frat boy was killed,â Sam chimed in.Â
âNice job, Dr. Venkamen and Annie Potts. Letâs check it out,â the older brother quipped.
The three of you headed to Nine Mile Road. Dean parked off the road in a clearing in the woods. He popped the trunk and handed Sam a shotgun. âHere you go.â
âIf it is a spirit, buckshot wonât do much good,â Sam said.
âYeah, rock salt. It wonât kill âem. But itâll slow âem down.â Dean led the three of you through the clearing.Â
âThatâs pretty good. You and Dad think of this?âÂ
âI told you. You donât have to be a college graduate to be a genius.â
âCool it, Winchester. You and your daddy arenât the first people to think of rock salt bullets.â You loaded your own gun with shells of your own.
âYeah, yeah, whatever.â
âTheyâre a bitch to roll,â you said.
âOh, one hundred percent,â he remarked.Â
You suddenly heard rustling in the bushes.
âOver there,â you whispered to Sam. The two of you aimed your guns and cocked it.Â
The âghostâ came out from behind the trees. A sheriff.Â
âDammit.â
âPut the gun down now!â he yelled. âNow! Put your hands behind your head.â
âWait, wait, okay!â Dean told him.Â
You immediately dropped your gun and put your hands up.
âNow get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!â
You three obeyed.
âNow get down on your bellies,â he commanded. âCome on, do it!â
âAre you just on a power trip or something? âCauseâ ah!â you were cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Sam.Â
The sheriff brought the three of you into the station. It was early the next morning by the time you were able to leave.
âSaved your asses!â Dean jeered. âTalked the sheriff down to a fine. I am Matlock.â
âHow was it that you were left in charge of talking him down?â You raised a brow at him. âAnd how in the fuck did you do it?â
âSweetheart, this may surprise you, but Iâm good at my job. And I told him Sam was a dumbass pledge, you were his girlfriend weâd dragged along, and we were hazing you.â
You and Sam both recoiled at the idea of dating each other.
âFirst of all, ew,â you started, âNo offense, Sam.â
âNone taken.â
âBut what about the shotguns?â
âI said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.â
âAnd he believed you?â you asked incredulously.
âWell, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge.â
âCanât argue with that.â You stuck your tongue out at Sam.
Moments later, several officers ran out of the building to their cruisers. Barely needing to share a look with the boys, you hurried into the car and sped away to follow them.
You could see Lori wrapped in a disposable blanket in front of the sorority house you were staying in. You werenât exactly sure what was going on, but you had no doubt that it was another murder. The stretcher carrying a body bag rolling out of the front door affirmed that thought seconds later.
Dean parked the Impala around the back of the house.Â
âWhy would the Hook Man come here?â Sam asked as the three of you crept around the building. âThis is a long way from Nine Mile Road.â
âMaybe heâs not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe itâs about something else,â Dean suggested.Â
You pulled his arm back seconds later to avoid being seen by your âsorority sisters.â You used the fact that you had now pretty much pulled yourself in front of him to allow you to lead the way up to the second floor.Â
While Dean made a stupid joke about a naked pillow fight, Sam was busy giving you a boost before climbing up himself. You looked back down at the ground to see Dean struggling to find his footing.
âNeed help?â you smirked.
âNo,â he grumbled.
âI think you do.â
âNo, I donât.â
You waited patiently, leaning your head in your hands on the railing of the balcony and smiling down at him. He struggled for a few more moments before he conceded. All he did was open and close his hand he was extending upwards, similar to a toddler asking to be picked up.
âWhatâs the magic word?â you sing-songed.
âCome on!â he hissed. âPlease?â
âThere we go,â you smiled. You dug your heels into the ground and pulled him up.
You then realized the window you were entering was the one in Lori and Taylorâs closet. You hoped to god in that moment that Taylor wasnât the one dead.
Your fears were realized, however, when you entered Lori and Taylorâs room to find the words âArenât you glad you didnât turn on the light?â crudely etched into the wall above Taylorâs blood soaked bed. You didnât exactly get attached to people on hunts, but seeing good people die was never easy for you. It didnât get easier. Your dad would call you soft, but you always liked to look at your compassion as a strength.
â âArenât you glad you didnât turn on the light?â Thatâs right out of the legend,â Sam whispered.
âYeah, thatâs classic Hook Man all right.â Dean tapped his nose as he spoke. âItâs definitely a spirit.â
âYeah, Iâve never smelled ozone this strong before,â Sam muttered.
â(Y/N), you okay?â Dean asked you.Â
You nodded, biting your lip. âYeah. Fine. Itâs just⌠look at this symbol.â You were referencing the one beneath the writing. âDoes that look familiar to you?â
Your head jerked toward the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly shooed Sam and Dean back into the closet and out of the house. Thankfully, you made it back to the car without being seen. You pulled the copy youâd made at the library of one of the pages on Jacob Karns out of the backseat. That was where you had seen the cross symbol; on Karnsâs hook.Â
You showed it to the boys. âTold ya.â
âAlright, letâs find the dudeâs grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,â Dean said.
Sam took the page from your hand. â âAfter execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.â â He flicked the page with his finger, looking aggravated; as were you and Dean.
âSuper,â the older brother muttered.
âOk. So we know itâs Jacob Karns. But we still donât know where heâll manifest next. Or why,â Sam pointed out.
âI could just be spitballing here, but Lori definitely has something to do with it,â you said, looking up at the sorority house.
***
You managed to get into a party at the fraternity house Sam and Dean were staying in later that night. Dean had been busy mingling with thin college girls dressed in mini skirts while Sam stuck to the outside wall. You bounced around from talking to Sam and hustling some of the drunk frat guys in multiple rounds of pool.
The three of you reunited around the pool table youâd been dominating that night.
âMan, youâve been holding out on me,â Dean told Sam. âThis college thing is awesome!â He smiled and winked at a passing girl.
Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. âThis wasnât really my experience.â
âLet me guess. Libraries, studying, straight Aâs?â
Sam nodded. You chortled.
âWhat a geek. Alright, you do your homework?âÂ
âYeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.â Sam unfolded a piece of paper.Â
â1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage,â Dean read.
Your eyebrows knitted together.
âThereâs a pattern here,â Sam explained. âIn both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried outâ get thisâ with a sharp instrument.â
âWhatâs the connection to Lori?â Dean asked.
âHer dad. Man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,â you pointed out. âMaybe this time, though, instead of saving the whole town, heâs just trying to save his kid.â
âReverend Sorensen,â Dean tsked. âYou think heâs summoning the spirit?â
âMaybe itâs like when a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place,â you suggested.
âYeah, the spirit latches onto the reverendâs repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.â
âWithout the reverend ever even knowing it,â Sam chimed in.
âEither way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,â Dean told his brother.
âWhat about you?âÂ
Dean looked over to the opposite side of the pool table where the blonde youâd been playing with smiled at him. He reluctantly said, â(Y/N) and I are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave.âÂ
âWe are? I wanted to play more eight-ball,â you told him.Â
He looked back over at the blonde, back at you, and shook his head in disappointment. âCâmon. Iâm not happy about it either.â
***
âAre you sure you donât wanna go back?â you asked Dean as the two of you trudged through the Old North Cemetery. You were holding shovels and flashlights searching for the grave of Jacob Karns.
He shot you a look.
âI know, I know, Iâm kidding,â you laughed. âBut seriously. Now that weâre⌠acquaintances, we should go out to a bar sometime. Preferably one with a pool table.â
âThatâd be cool, actually,â he said, smirking at you. âYouâre pretty good.â
âWhat, at pool?â
He nodded. âI could probably still kick your ass, though.â
âYouâre on, pretty boy.â
He stopped and turned to you. âDonât objectify me.â
âWhat?â you asked, stopping next to him. âYou know youâre gorgeous. You frequently use it to your advantage.â You marched on.
You smiled when you heard him mutter, âYou are so confusing, woman.â
You walked for a few more minutes before your flashlight landed on a grave marked with that cross symbol from Taylorâs room. âJackpot.â
You and Dean set to work exhuming Jacobâs corpse. Your back and shoulders ached more and more the deeper you dug. âHow fucking far down is six feet?â you remarked breathlessly.Â
âI donât know, but next time, I get to watch the cute girlâs house,â he replied.
âAw, you donât wanna spend quality time with this cute girl?â you asked playfully.Â
He eyed you strangely with a lopsided smile.Â
âWhat?â you asked.
âNothing. Youâre just funny,â he told you.
You smiled back and got back to digging. Your shovel finally hit the wooden box lying below. You broke through it to reveal his corpse. Or at least, what remained of it.Â
âHello, preacher,â Dean said. He threw his shovel aside and helped you out of the hole you had dug. After he had climbed out, you poured salt and lighter fluid all over the bones.Â
âGoodbye, preacher.â Dean threw a match down into the grave.
Your nose twisted up in disgust. âI will never get used to that smell.â
âWhat, burnt, hundred-year-old preacher? Me neither.â
You and Dean packed up and headed back to the car that was parked in the cemeteryâs parking lot. Your body was exhausted.Â
âUm, weird question,â you started.Â
He turned to you and threw his shovel and duffel bag in the trunk.Â
âYou think we could sleep in your car for a bit? Iâm running on two days of no sleep.â
He shrugged. âI donât see why not. It should all be over now and Sam should be layinâ it down with Lori.â
And so, you did. You stretched out over the backseat, and Dean laid down on the front. A few moments of silence passed between the two of you, and strangely, you no longer felt tired. You supposed it was the strangeness of the situation. You were now sharing a somewhat intimate moment with a man you despised just weeks prior. You werenât quite sure where your relationship with Dean was heading, and that bothered you a bit.
âDean?â
âHm.â
âGoodnight.â
âGoodnight, (Y/N).â
***
Four hours of shut-eye later, you felt recharged. You awoke to the sound of Deanâs phone vibrating over which Sam told you to meet him at a hospital.
âHospital? Why? Is he okay?â you asked Dean, climbing over the front seat to sit shotgun.Â
âI think so, but he said the reverendâs hurt.â
About fifteen minutes later, you were walking down a long corridor only to be stopped by two cops in wide-brimmed hats.Â
The sheriffs put a hand to Deanâs chest to stop him.
âNo, itâs alright, weâre with him. Heâs my brother,â he explained. âHey! Brother!â he called, waving dorkishly at Sam. Â
âLet them through.â
âThanks.âÂ
You and Dean began walking toward Sam, who met you in the middle.
âYou okay?â Dean asked.Â
âYeah,â sighed Sam.
âWhat the hell happened?âÂ
âHook Man.â
You looked incredulous. âYou saw him?â
âDamn right. Why didnât you torch the bones?â Sam responded.
âWe did,â you rebutted, confused. âYou sure itâs the spirit of Jacob Karns?â
âIt sure as hell looked like him,â Sam returned. âAnd thatâs not all. I donât think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.â
âWell, duh, he wouldnât send Hook Man after himself,â you remarked.
âI think itâs latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.â He whispered that last part.
âDamn.â You gritted your teeth. âI could see how that could upset her.â
Sam nodded. âShe told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.â
âOk, so sheâs conflicted,â Dean chimed in. âAnd the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe heâs doing the punishing for her, huh?â
âRight,â the younger brother nodded. âRich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.â
âRemind me not to piss this girl off,â Dean muttered. âBut we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didnât that stop him?â
âWe mustâve missed something,â you said.Â
âNo, we burned everything in that coffin.â
âDid you get the hook?â Sam asked the two of you.
Realization struck you. âFuck,â you grumbled. âNo.â
âWhy does that matter?â Dean asked.
âWell, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,â Sam told him.
âSo, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.â
âSo if we find the hookââ
The three of you finished Samâs sentence in unison, grinning. âWe stop the Hook Man.â
âWell, back to the drawing board,â you said as the three of you began walking away from the reverendâs hospital room.
âWhat do you mean?â Dean asked.
âDo you know where the hook is?â you raised your eyebrows at him.Â
He said nothing.
âExactly,â you giggled.
***
Your next stop was the library for the second time this hunt. As much as you liked to read, obnoxious amounts of research was not your thing. Finally, you thought youâd found something. âLog book, Iowa State Penitentiary. âKarns, Jacob. Personal effects: disposition thereof.â â
âDoes it mention the hook?â Sam asked you.
âI donât know. âUpon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisonerâs house of worship, St. Barnabas Church,â â you read aloud. âThatâs where Loriâs dad preaches.â
âWhere Lori lives, too?â Sam asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
âMaybe thatâs why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverendsâ daughters for the past two hundred years,â Dean added.
âYeah, but I think someone wouldâve noticed a blood-stained, silver-handled hook hanginâ around the church or Loriâs house.â
Dean pulled out another book and slapped it down in front of you. âCheck the church records.â
Sam pulled the book to sit between the two of you. You and he flipped through pages upon pages of records before he found something. â âSt. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.â â He sighed. âThey melted it down. Made it into something else.â
âGoddammit,â you grumbled.Â
Later that night, you and the boys returned to St. Barnabas Church. Dean shouldered a duffel bag and began leading you to the church. Sam followed close behind.
âAlright, we canât take any chances,â the older brother began. âAnything silver goes in the fire.â
âI agree. So, Loriâs still at the hospital. Weâll have to break in,â Sam added.
âOkay, take your pick,â you told him.
âIâll take the house,â Sam responded.
âDean and I will take the church, then.â
âWe will?â the older brother asked.
âYup.â
You led Dean up to the church. He called back to his brother. âHey. Stay out of her underwear drawer.â
You could hear the smirk in his voice and giggled.
You took the top floor of the church while Dean scoured the basement. The two of you, along with Sam, met up in the furnace room.Â
âI got everything that even looked silver,â Sam told you.
âBetter safe than sorry,â Dean said.Â
Your head turned upward at the sound of footsteps. You could hear Dean taking his gun from his jacket as you grabbed yours.
âMove, move,â Dean told you quietly.
You crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. When you got back to the ground floor, you could see Lori hunched over, her shoulders shaking. You lowered your gun and lightly pushed Sam forward. He shot you a look, but headed over to Lori anyway. You and Dean went back downstairs to continue melting the silver.Â
âI feel for her,â you said quietly. âI know how much religion can fuck you up.â Silver clanked against the coals in the furnace as you spoke.
Dean turned his head to you. âYou do?â
You nodded. âIâve watched so many people go through crisis after crisis when their loved ones end up dead.â
âMe too,â he said earnestly. âProbably why I donât pray.â
âWell, itâs a little difficult to believe in a higher power when all day, everyday is blood, guts, and monsters,â you remarked.
He chuckled. âYeah. I donât know if Iâve met one religious hunter.â
âI have,â you said. âMy mom.â
âReally?â
âYeah. She was somehow still convinced of âGodâs plan.â â
âCatholic?â
âOh, very.â
âIâm sorry to hear that,â he replied playfully.
âYeah, me too,â you smiled. âMy dad wasnât, but, uh, he had his⌠other issues.â
Before he could ask further questions, you heard commotion upstairs. It sounded like running heading toward the opposite side of the basement.
âCâmon,â Dean urged, sprinting out of the furnace room with his gun in hand. You followed closely behind. You could hear the breaking of boards and slamming of what you assumed were bodies that practically shook the walls that got louder as you got closer. Sam was maneuvering himself behind the Hook Manâs clunkily-moving apparition.Â
Dean gruffly called to his brother, âSam, drop!â
His brother obeyed and Dean shot the Hook Man, who disappeared.
âI thought we got all the silver,â you said.
âSo did I,â the older brother answered.
âThen why is he still here?â Samâs voice was frantic.
âWell, maybe we missed something!â
You looked around and noticed Loriâs cross necklace. âLori, where did you get that chain?â
âMy father gave it to me,â she responded nervously.
âWhereâd your dad get it?â Sam asked.
âHe said it was a church heirloom,â she answered quickly. âHe gave it to me when I started school.â
âIs it silver?!â
âYes!â
Sam ripped the chain off her and threw it to you. You caught it with ease and went to start running back down the hall when the invisible Hook Man started dragging his hook along the wall. Â
You threw Sam your gun and started running down another corridor you hoped would bring you to the same destination. You could vaguely hear Dean say to his brother, âIâll cover (Y/N), shoot anything that moves!â before you heard approaching quick footsteps behind you.
You sprinted down winding hallways and thankfully quickly made it to the furnace room. You threw the necklace into the fire and watched as it slowly began to melt. âCâmon, câmon,â you muttered anxiously. It took longer than you wouldâve liked, but the cross broke off the necklace and burned into ash. As soon as it did, you and Dean ran back to the latterâs brother to make sure the ghost was gone. Thankfully, he had, but Sam seemed injured. He was clutching his left shoulder and wincing.Â
You called the police to the scene and urged them to send an ambulance. They arrived in no time, and Sam was able to get his injury patched up.Â
âAnd you saw him, too?â A sheriff was asking you and writing in a notepad. âThe man with the hook?â
âYeah, we all saw him,â you responded. âWe fought him off and then he ran.â
âAnd thatâs all?â The sheriff was skeptical.
âYes, sir.â
âListen. You and those two boysââ
Dean came up behind you and answered for you. âOh, donât worry, weâre leaving town.â
You laughed at his response. Sam and Lori talking near the ambulance caught your eye. You continued watching them in the rearview mirror once youâd gotten in the backseat of the car. Sam soon left Lori, who looked after him sadly, and stooped down into the car.Â
âWe could stay,â Dean suggested.Â
You could tell Sam wanted to, but he shook his head. A deflated air had settled over the car, but you knew the younger Winchester wasnât ready for anything yet. Heâd been dating Jessica for a year and a half and had just lost her less than four months ago. You knew he needed more time. The best way you knew to comfort him was to wrap your hands around his shoulders gently, minding his injury, from your place in the backseat. He tensed for a moment, but allowed you to hug him nonetheless. He responded by holding your arm with his good hand. And for a moment, if you closed your eyes, it was almost like hugging Steven again.Â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee
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Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)
Word Count: 5826
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You and Dean didnât talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you.Â
âLike a wart,â you thought. âOr a blister, maybe.â
Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadnât told Sam what youâd told him about your family which you were surprised by.Â
The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you werenât sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John.Â
Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. âAlright, I figure weâd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.âÂ
He didnât respond.
âSam wears womenâs underwear.â
âIâve been listeninâ, Iâm just busy,â he finally answered.Â
âBusy doinâ what?â you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.
âReading e-mails.âÂ
Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. âE-mails from who?â
âFrom my friends at Stanford.â Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.
âYouâre kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?â Dean asked.
âWhy not?â He still hadnât turned his attention from his phone.
âWell, what exactly do you tell âem? You know, about where youâve been, what youâve been doinâ?â
âI tell âem Iâm on a road trip with my big brother. I tell âem I needed some time off after Jess.â
âAnd I couldnât make my way into that lie?â you asked.Â
âWhat do I tell âem, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?â he chuckled. âAnd I donât lie to them. I just donât tell âem⌠everything.â
âYeah, thatâs called lying,â you retorted. âI get it, though, the truth is much worse.â
âSo, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?â
His older brother shrugged.
âYouâre serious?â Sam wasnât really asking.
âLook, it sucks, but in a job like this, you canât get close to people, period,â Dean responded.
âHow many friends do I have, Sam?â you asked him.
âMe.â
âExactly,â you giggled.
âYou two are kind of anti-social, you know that?â He returned to scrolling through his emails.
âEh, whatever.â You flopped back on the bench seat.
âGodâŚ.â Sam trailed off.
âWhat?â you and Dean asked.
âIn this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.â
âIs she hot?âÂ
You rolled your eyes. âDeanââÂ
Sam ignored the two of you. âI went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zackâs been charged with murder. Heâs been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didnât do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.â
âDude, what kind of people are you hanginâ out with?â his brother questioned.
âNo, man, I know Zack. Heâs no killer.â
âWell, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.â
âTheyâre in St. Louis. Weâre goinâ.â
âLook, sorry âbout your buddy, okay?â Dean chuckled humorlessly. âBut this does not sound like our kind of problem.â
Sam wasnât having it. âIt is our problem. Theyâre my friends.â
âSt. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.â Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.
***
The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house youâd arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl.Â
âDamn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,â you thought.
âOh my God, Sam!â she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.
âWell, if it isnât little Becky,â Sam jested.
âYou know what you can do with that little Becky crap.â
âI got your e-mail.â His tone had become somber.
âI didnât think that you would come here,â she answered earnestly.
Dean shoved in front of Sam. âDean. Older brother.â
âHeâs making his fucking voice deeper again.â
She shook his hand. âHi.â
âHi,â she smiled back.
âWeâre here to help. Whatever we can do.â You peeked out from behind Sam. âIâm (Y/N), by the way.â
âNice to meet you!â You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. âCome in.â
âNice place,â Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.
âItâs my parentsâ. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. Iâm gonna stay until Zackâs free,â Becky explained.
âWhere are your folks?â Sam asked.
âThey live in Paris for half the year, so theyâre on their way home now for the trial.â
âOf course, they fucking do.â
âDo you guys want a beer or something?â she asked politely.
Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. âNo, thanks. So, tell us what happened.â
âWell, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasnât breathing.â Becky began to cry.Â
âSheâs even pretty when she cries.â
âSo, he called 911, and the policeâ they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack couldâve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The policeâthey have a video. Itâs from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,â she relayed.
âYou know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zackâs house.â
âWe could,â Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasnât picking up where Sam was going with this.
âWhy? I mean, what could you do?â the blonde asked.
âWell, me, not much. But Deanâs a cop.â Sam patted his brotherâs shoulder.
âDetective, actually,â Dean laughed.
âReally? Where?â
âBisbee, Arizona. But Iâm off-duty now.â
âYou guys, itâs so nice to offer, but I justâ I donât know,â she said.
âBec, look, I know Zack didnât do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that heâs innocent,â Sam replied.
âOkay. Iâm gonna go get the keys.â
âOh, yeah, man, youâre a real straight shooter with your friends,â Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.
âLook, Zack and Becky need our help,â Sam responded.
âI just donât think this is our kind of problem.â
âTwo places at once? Weâve looked into less.â
Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.
***
âYouâre sure this is okay?â Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.
Dean clearly was having fun with the whole âcopâ thing. âYeah. I am an officer of the law.â
You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in.Â
She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. âUm, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothesâ Zackâs clothes. The policeâ they donât think itâs anything. I mean, weâre not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.â In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. âYou know, that used to be the sweetest dog.â
âWhat happened?â you asked her.
âHe just changed.â
Dean turned over his shoulder to her. âDo you remember when he changed?â
âI guess around the time of the murder,â she shrugged.Â
You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway.Â
Dean came up behind you soon after. âSo, the neighborâs dog went psycho right around the time Zackâs girlfriend was killed.â
âAnimals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,â Sam said.
âYeah, maybe Fido saw somethinâ.â
âSo, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?â
âYeah, probââ you started, only to be cut off by Dean.
âNo. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.â
You shot him a look. âThe evidence is staring you in the face, and you still canât admit youâre wrong.â
He shot a look back at you that said, âDonât try me.â
Before you could push each otherâs buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. âSo, the tape. The security footageâ you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, âcause I just donât have that kind of jurisdiction.â
How Becky was buying into Deanâs lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.
âIâve already got it. I didnât wanna say something in front of the cop,â she giggled. âI stole it off the lawyerâs desk. I just had to see it for myself.â
The three of you went back to Beckyâs parentsâ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.
â22:04,â Dean noted the time stamp, âthatâs just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.â
âOur lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tapeâs authentic. It wasnât tampered with,â Becky added.
âHey, Bec, can we take those beers now?â Sam asked.Â
âOh, sure,â she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.
âMaybe some sandwiches, too?â He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her.Â
âWhat do you think this is, Hooters?â she snarked.
âI wish,â Dean mumbled.Â
âCan you focus, please?â you asked him.
âWhat are you, my mother?â Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation.Â
âNo, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. Iâd prefer not to watch it happen,â you replied playfully. âBut look.â You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zackâs eyes were silver. âThere!â
âWell, maybe itâs just a camera flare,â Dean shrugged.
âDoes that look like any camera flare youâve ever seen?â you asked rhetorically.Â
He just looked away, defeated.Â
âYou know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,â Sam chimed in. âRemember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zackâs, something that looks like him but isnât him.â
âLike a Doppelganger?â Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.
âYeah. Itâd sure explain how he was in two places at once,â Sam said.
Despite the luxurious villa Samâs friend called home, the three of you didnât want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.
You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boysâ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when heâd just woken up.
âMorning, sunshine,â you grinned.
He scratched his head. â(Y/N), what the fuââ
âWe have to get to Zackâs house. I just thought of something. â
Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. âWhatcha got?â
Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room.Â
âWe saw âZackâ go in, but never saw the killer leave,â you explained. âBut of course, we didnât. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?âÂ
Sam was with you, nodding his head.
âDid you have to realize that before five in the morning?â Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.
âSorry,â you replied sheepishly. âCouldnât sleep. But I figured that out, so thatâs all that matters.â
Dean shook his head and yawned again. âSam, youâre driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.â
***
âHe mustâve gone out the back door,â Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zackâs house. âSo, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.â
âI still donât know what weâre doinâ here at 5:30 in the morning,â Dean grumbled.
âCâmon,â you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zackâs house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.
âBlood. Somebody came this way,â Sam noted.
âYeah, but the trail ends,â Dean added from a few paces ahead. âI donât see anything over here.â
Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Deanâs car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.
âWhat happened?â Dean asked a bystander.
âHe tried to kill his wife,â she responded with a hand to her chest. âTied her up and beat her.â
âReally?â you asked.
âI used to see him going to work in the morning. Heâd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.â She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.
The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.
âRemember when I said this wasnât our kind of problem?â Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.
âYeah,â his brother answered.
âDefinitely our kind of problem.â
You gasped, feigning shock. âMark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!â
âWatch it, sweetheart,â he retorted.
âWhatâd you find out?â Sam asked.
âWell, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alexâs story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,â Dean explained.
âSo, he was in two places at once, too.â
âExactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think heâs a nutjob.â
You paused for a moment, thinking. âYou think it could be a shapeshifter?â
âSomething that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,â Sam responded. âEvery culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.â
âRight, skinwalkers, werewolves,â Dean added. âWeâve got two attacks within blocks of each other. Iâm guessinâ weâve got a shapeshifter prowlinâ the neighborhood.â
âLet me ask you thisâ in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?â the younger brother asked.
âNot that I know of.â You shook your head. âBut someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then⌠the trail just⌠ends. Just like at your friendâs house.â You gestured toward Sam.
âWell, thereâs another way to go.â You followed Deanâs gaze down to a manhole.
âEw, gross.â Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover.Â
The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen.Â
âI bet this runs right by Zackâs house, too,â Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. âThe shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.â
You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. âBlegh, look!â
âIs this from his victims?â Sam looked equally as disgusted.
Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. âYou know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.â
âThat is sick,â you affirmed.
He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.
âEw, dude!â you shoved his arm. âWhat the fuck?â
He just laughed in response.
You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.
âWell, one thing I learned from Dadââ Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, ââis that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, thereâs one sure way to kill it.â
âSilver bullet to the heart,â you chimed in.
He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets.Â
Samâs cell phone rang. âThis is Sam⌠Weâre near Zackâs, weâre just checkinâ some things out⌠What are you talkinâ about?â
He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why sheâd be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.
âWhy would you do that?... Becâ Weâre tryinâ to help⌠Bec, Iâm sorry, butââ And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.
Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. âI hate to say it, but thatâs exactly what Iâm talkinâ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, theyâd be freaked. Itâs justâitâd be easier ifââ
âIf I was like you guys,â he replied quietly.Â
âSam, Iâm not trying to be heartless, but Deanâs kinda right.â Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. âWeâre not like other people.âÂ
âBut Iâll tell you one thing.â Deanâs lighthearted tone was back. âThis whole gigâ it ainât without perks.â He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.
You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Samâs head. âI think weâre close to its lair,â you told them.
âWhy do you say that?â Sam asked.Â
âBecause thereâs another puke-inducing pile next to your face,â you snickered.Â
âOh, God!â His face scrunched up in disgust.
There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you.Â
âLooks like itâs lived here for a while,â you heard Dean say from behind you.
You turned to face him as you spoke. âWho knows how many murders heâs gotten awayâ Fuck, Dean!â you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him.Â
Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off.Â
âGet the son of a bitch!â Dean commanded.Â
The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldnât see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up.Â
Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him.Â
***
The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you werenât entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brotherâs voice coming from behind you.
âDean?â you called.
â(Y/N), itâs notââ Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.
âHiya, sweetheart,â he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post.Â
You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean.Â
âYou are one fucking trainwreck,â he said, searching your face.Â
You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. âThe more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.â
âWhat do you mean âlearnâ?âÂ
As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. âYou made a big mistake telling himâ I mean, meâ about what you did to your family. If I wasnât ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope youâre tellinâ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, âcause I donât know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livinâ crap outta me.â The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.
âYouâre a burden, (Y/N). Youâre exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I canât trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you wonât turn on me and Sammy?â
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. âYou fucking bitch. Yâknow, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But Iâm sure heâd have tons of fun with Samâs little friend Becky.â A wicked grin spread across his face. âI think Iâll go pay her a visit.â
He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head.Â
â(Y/N), are you back there?â Dean called from somewhere you couldnât see.Â
You knew he hadnât said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. âYeah, yeah. Iâm here.â Your voice was still shaky from crying. âHe went to Rebeccaâs, lookinâ like you.â
âWell, heâs not stupid. He picked the handsome one,â Dean gibed at his brother.
You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.
You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists.Â
âYeah, thatâs the thing. He didnât just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,â you heard Sam tell Dean.
âWhat do you mean?â the older brother asked.
âYeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,â you told him.
âYou mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?âÂ
You giggled. âSomethinâ like that.â
âMaybe thatâs why he doesnât just kill us,â Sam added.
âYeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connectionâ ah,â you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.
â(Y/N), stop, Iâm coming to help you,â Dean instructed.Â
âIâm a big girl,â you replied sassily. âI can do it.â
Dean had made his way over to you. âDo you have to fight me on everything?â He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck.Â
âYes, but thank you,â you told him. You still couldnât look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldnât deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way heâd helped you were starting to break down your walls a little.Â
âCome on, we gotta go,â you heard Sam order from behind you. âHeâs probably at Rebeccaâs already.â
Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out.Â
Sam started down the street. âCome on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.â
âWhoa, whoa, whoa.â Dean stopped him. âYouâre gonna put an APB out on me.â
His brother shrugged. âSorry.â
âThis way.â Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.
âAn anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West Endââ the reporter stated, ââwhere a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.â
Of course, Deanâs attitude was unwavering. âMan! Thatâs not even a good picture.â
You looked around nervously.Â
âItâs good enough,â Sam said.
âMan!â Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway.Â
âThey said attempted murder,â you pointed out. âAt least we knowââ
âI didnât kill her.â
You nodded.
âWeâll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if sheâs all right,â Sam said, looking over his shoulder.
âAlright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.âÂ
âHeâs still as arrogant as ever.â
âWe have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,â you countered.Â
âSweetheart, the guyâs walkinâ around with my face, okay, itâs a little personal, I wanna find him.â He turned to face you, but you couldnât meet his eyes.
âI get it. We need guns, though.â
âThe car?â Sam threw in.Â
âIâm bettinâ he drove over to Rebeccaâs.â Deanâs face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.
âThe news said he fled on foot. I bet itâs still parked there.â
âThe thought of him drivinâ my carââ he whined.
You shook your head. âCome on.â
âItâs killinâ me,â Dean whined again.
âLet it go,â you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.
The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.
âOh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.â Deanâs joy was almost contagious.
His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebeccaâs street and blocking the end of the road.Â
âFuck.â You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too.Â
âThis way, this way,â Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it.Â
âYou guys go. Iâll hold âem off,â Sam told you.
âWhat are you talking about? Theyâll catch you.â Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.
âLook, they canât hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebeccaâs,â Sam quickly spoke.Â
You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.
Dean sat beside you. âWhat did he say to you?â
You turned to him. âHuh?â
âThe shifter. Whatâd he say to you?â
You shook your head. âNothing, itâs fineââ
â(Y/N), you havenât looked at me once since we left that thingâs hideout. Tell me what he said.â
âWhy canât you drop it?â you spat, looking down at your boots.
âBecause,â he protested. âI gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.â
You sighed. âHe said you think Iâm annoying. And, um, a burden. He said youâre trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you canât trust me because of what I did to my family.â
Dean was silent for a moment. âAnything else?â
âHe said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.â
He nodded. âDo you really believe that?â You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.
âI donât know,â you answered honestly. âYou havenât exactly proven otherwise to me.â You looked up at him for the first time in hours.
He seemed surprised by that answer.
âDonât look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all weâve ever done is fight,â you reminded him.
âYeah, I guess youâre right.â A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. âBut I donât think those things about you. Honest.â
âI feel like Iâm pulling teeth here, Dean,â you remarked. âWhat do you think of me?â
âI mean, you can be annoying.â
You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips.Â
âAnd youâre way too stubborn.â
You raised an eyebrow at him. âAnd so are you.â
âAnd youâre too smart for your own good.â
âI wouldnât say thatâŚâ
âWould you let me finish?â he deadpanned.
You took a deep breath. âYeah, sorry.â
âYou just⌠you intimidate me a little, honestly.â Now Dean was the one who couldnât look at you.
You were shocked. âReally? Why?â
âDammit, (Y/N), Iâm not good at this,â he sighed. âI know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest Iâve ever been with a woman.â
You giggled at the memory.
âThis tops that by far,â he admitted.
You nodded. Youâd have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit.Â
âCan we start over?â you asked him.
He eyed you curiously.
âAs⌠acquaintances, I mean,â you explained. âWeâre no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine Iâll be around for a little while longer. Iâd rather us not fight the whole time. Itâs getting exhausting, if Iâm being honest.â
He chuckles. âYeah, I guess we can do that.â
âOkay, then.â You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. âHi. Iâm (Y/N).â
Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. âDean.â This time, he actually shook your hand.
***
Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.
âI think Iâm gonna be sick.â Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place youâd heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.
âWhat happened?â you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts.Â
She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. âI was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I donât know, how is that even possible?â
âOkay, okay. Itâs okay,â Dean told her.Â
The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.
âWeâve gotta hurry,â Dean said. âSam went to see you.â
When you got to Rebeccaâs house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.
Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, âHey!â
The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead.Â
You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. âAre you okay?â you asked him.Â
He smiled painfully at you. âPeachy.â
You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over⌠Dean⌠and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.
You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.
Sam approached the two of you.
âSo, what about your friend, Zack?â Dean asked his brother.
âCops are blaminâ this Dean Winchester guy for Emilyâs murder,â Sam jested. âThey found the murder weapon in the guyâs lair, Zackâs clothes stained with her blood. Now theyâre thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.âÂ
You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.Â
âGet in the car, (Y/N),â he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasnât trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.
As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. âSorry, man.â
âAbout what?â
âI really wish things could be different, you know?â the older brother said earnestly. âI wish you could just be⌠Joe College.â
âNo, thatâs okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,â Sam admitted.
âWell, thatâs âcause youâre a freak,â Dean quipped.
You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.
âYeah, thanks,â Sam said dryly.
âWell, Iâm a freak, too. Iâm right there with ya, all the way.â
âYeah, I know you are.â Samâs voice softened.
âYou know, I gotta say. Iâm sorry Iâm gonna miss it.âÂ
You felt one of Deanâs stupid jokes coming on. âOh, here we go.â
He eyed you in the rearview mirror.Â
âMiss what?â Sam asked.
âHow many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?â Dean smirked.
You shook your head. âAnd there it is.â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle
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ALL MY GHOSTS
- pairing: Beau Arlen x Fem Reader
- summary: Youâre a deputy working for the Lewis and Clark County Sheriffâs Department in Helena; a good one at that. Since Beauâs arrival, you befriended the Texan, who eventually became the townâs new permanent sheriff. With a growing friendship, blooming feelings, a ton of inside jokes, and way too much fun on the job, it seems like everything is going right for you. But, youâre running from your past, and it seems to be catching up fast.
- warnings: 18+, murder, kidnapping, domestic abuse, stalking, obsessive behaviour, violence, trauma, dark content, angst, age gap relationship, abortion, alcoholism, smut.
- an: well, this is the first fanfic iâm posting on this account - but not in general, or on tumblr. it is, however, my first beau arlen fanfic. this is set AFTER season three!!!
- word count so far: 5484
CHAPTERS .
CHAPTER ONE !
CHAPTER TWO !
CHAPTER THREE !
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ALL MY GHOSTS (iii)
series masterlist
- summary: With Jenny now on board too, the four of you begin to investigate the strange-happenings occurring to you, behind Beauâs back. As things get weirder, youâre forced to finally tell your friends the truth of your past. You catch up with Beau at a grief counselling session.
- word count: 2421
- warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of abortion, panic attack, dissociation.
ââââââ âż ââââââ
As it turns out, hiding an entire investigation was harder than you thought â which was honestly no shocker. Though Beau still remained blissfully ignorant to your endeavours, Jenny had, very quickly, caught onto the fact something was going on, when you excused yourself from work for the 10th time to pick up a phone call.
As you hung up, Jenny cornered you, arms crossed. You took a step back, surprised by her sudden appearance. But, before you could question her, she spoke, voice hard. âTell me whatâs going on.â
âWhatâ?â
âYouâre keeping something from me.â Jenny interrupted, not letting you spit out some useless lie. Her brows raised. âCassie knows. I know she does. I wanna help.â You knew that you couldnât get away with not telling her â she was determined to figure out what you were hiding, and Jenny knew you far too well to believe any lie that fell from your lips.
So, you sighed, shoulders deflated, resigning yourself to spill it with Jenny. âYou canâtâŚâ your eyes trailed over her shoulder to Beauâs office. âYou canât tell him.â
Jenny didnât have to turn around to know who you were referring to. âI wonât.â She assured you, speaking much more softly than she previously had been. âNow, what is it?â
âItâs just⌠like, strange things happening.â
âThe flowers?â Your brows raised in confusion. Jenny nodded once, watching you carefully. âBeau told me. He said you were scared?â
âYeah, well, I had a bad feeling.â You sighed, fiddling with your phone case. You hesitated before speaking again, wondering if you really wanted more people to know about this. Jennyâs sharp look made you start talking again. âItâs not just the flowers.â You mumbled. âMy doorbell camera keeps telling me thereâs movement outside my apartment, andâ and Iâve gotten, like, 15 mystery phone calls already today with no one talking.â
A best of silence fell over you, as Jenny considered your words. âThat doesnât sound like the ânothingâ youâve been telling Beau about.â You hesitated to reply to Jenny. She frowned, now more concerned. âWhy arenât you telling him? He could help. The entire department could help â and will, if you just tell them.â
âNo, Beauâs got too much to worry about already.â You immediately shot down that idea immediately. Jennyâs face flooded with disappointment. âHeâs got thatâ that murder, and the drug cartel. And Carla and Emily to worry about.â
Jenny sighed. âBeau would help you in the drop of a hat.â You bit down on your tongue. You knew she was right. And that was the worst part about it; that Beau would do anything to protect you. âAll of that? Itâd mean fucking nothing to him if you were in any sort of danger. Youâve gotta tell him.â
âNo. Cassie and Denise are handling it.â
She let out another sigh, shaking her head in disappointment. âOkay.â She relented with your idea begrudgingly. âLet me help, too, then.â You opened your mouth to argue. âOr Iâll tell Beau.â
You immediately groaned, rubbing your forehead. âFine.â You agreed, sighing heavily. âJust⌠donât tell him.â You sent her a pleading look, and then walked away, brushing past her as you returned to Beauâs office, where he was going over a file with Pop. Jenny was right on your heel, the pair of you entering his office together.
With a glance up at you, Beau grinned. âThere you two are. Was wonderinâ where yâall wandered off to.â He chucked down a file on the table in your direction. âNeed you two on this case. That okay?â
Shrugging, you reached over to grab the case file. Flipping it one, your hands stiffened.
Why did Beau always stick you with domestic abuse cases?
You bit your tongue, hard enough for it to sting and burn. Your eyes jumped up to Jenny, who had been closely watching your reaction. Sighing, your attention returned to Beau. âYeah.â You agreed, hiding your reluctance pretty well. âWeâve got it, boss.â
He patted his desk and beamed. âThanks, ladies. Pop ânâ I are dealinâ with that burglary on 5th. You wanâ a ride?â
âNah.â You shook your head. âWeâll take my car. I need gas, anyway.â You slapped the file on Jennyâs arm shoulder, indicating for her to get going. With one last smile in Beauâs direction, you left with Jenny, fiddling with the corner of the file as you went.
âYou okay?â
You nodded at Jenny. âAll good.â You strode out of the police station with your heart hammering in your chest.
ââââââ âż ââââââ
Like youâd expected, the domestic abuse case had left you shaken up. Jenny had pulled you out of the case halfway through, when sheâd noticed your pale and terrified expression, sending you back to the station and calling in extra units to cover for you.
10 years ago, youâd been a normal girl. Then came Jack. And your entire life had been altered. Heâd ripped apart any remaining innocence youâd had left in you.
Heâd taken everything from you.
Heâd taken things from you you couldnât even predict.
And the blood on your hands made your body ache.
You sat at your desk, toying with a pen, staring blankly down at the paperwork on your desk. The words seemed to blur together, turning into a dark blob in your vision.
Your pen tapped incessantly onto the wood of the desk.
And then a hand snatched it from you. âStop that.â Beau held your pen away from you, eyes narrowed as he stared down at you. âWhatâs up witâ you? Jenny said you freaked on the case. Youâre meant tâbe helpinâ her.â
âSorry.â You ran a hand down your face with a heavy sigh. âRough day.â
He stared for a moment, then nodded. âMmm, I getâya.â Beau dropped your pen back onto the desk. He pushed his hand through his hair, flashing you a reassuring smile. âYou good? You ainât hidinâ nothinâ from me?â
Your head tilted, and you smiled at him. âIâm good.â Came your instinctive reply.
âMm, okay.â He nodded, clearly not believing you. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment. âNeed a ride?â He held up his car keys, brows raised as he jangled them.
You hummed, considering it, flipped your file closed. âSure.â You agreed, tucking the file into your draw and locking it.
Beau lit up with your acceptance. He grabbed your jacket and hung it over his arm, making you smile fondly. âYou get anythinâ on that murder case yet?â
âNot really.â You got to your feet, following Beau away from your desk. âI was thinking, through, you should check out the new girlfriend of the ex boyfriend.â He looked at you questioningly. You smiled sheepishly, raising your shoulders into a shrug. âJust a suggestion. She mightâve been jealous of her guyâs ex girl. The cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head; doesnât take much strength.â
He pressed his lips together and nod. âHuh.â He muttered, thinking it over. âYeah. Iâll check that out.â He held open the door of the station, grinning at you as you exited.
âThatâs all I got, though.â
He chuckled. âItâs more than I got. Good work.â Patting your shoulder, he led you over to his truck, yanking open the passenger seat. Once heâd ensured you were in safely, he shut the door, rounding the truck to get into the drivers seat. âHome?â
âNo, no, Cassie and Denise.â You plopped your bag down by your feet. âI have some stuff to talk to them about.â
Starting his truck, Beau glanced at you. There was suspicion in his eyes. After a few beats, he nodded. âYes, maâam.â He agreed playfully, making you laugh softly. He pulled out of the parking lot, his hand on the gear stick drawing your attention far too much. âSo, you wanâ talk âbout what made you freak on the case today?â
You shifted in your chair, crossing your arms defensively. âNot really.â
Beau cracked a smile, amused at your attitude. âYâshould know by now I ainât taking that answer.â He glanced at you for a moment, sighing deeply. âTalk to me, honey. Whatâs going on witâ you, huh?â
âNothing, Beau.â You attempted to lie to him again.
Unimpressed, he pressed his lips together. âYouâve always been a shit liar.â He muttered, shaking his head. âListen, if ya donât wanna tell me, I get it. I ainât gonâ push.â He reassured you, voice now far gentler. âBut Iâm gettinâ worried now. This ainât the first time youâve shut down on a case.â
You closed your eyes and gathered yourself. Beau had always been good at not pushing your boundaries, which was something youâd always greatly appreciated.
But it was times like these you wished heâd push a bit harder. You wanted to tell him â Beau was the one person you wanted to tell about your past. You wanted to spill every detail, and have him hold you to his chest as he comforted you. You just couldnât find the words in your mouth.
âIâm okay.â You said instead, trying to sound reassuring. âJust having a rough time lately.â You tapped your fingers on his arm in an attempt to convince him.
It didnât work â of course it fucking didnât. Beau was like a mind reader when it came to you. âYou know I donât believe you, right?â He asked, soft.
Biting your cheek, you nodded.
âOkay.â He smiled warmly in your direction, his eyes still dark with worry. âI ainât gonâ push. Just⌠come to me, yeah? If you need me. Come to me.â
âAlways, Beau.â
He cracked a smile, relaxing a smidge. âGood. Iâm always gonâ protect you, darlinâ. Always.â
ââââââ âż ââââââ
Cassie didnât have much good news to deliver you. Your case was posted up on boards hidden away in her office in the back, just in case Beau turned up with no warning and took a peek. Jenny had been helping them dig deeper, using the departmentâs resources to be more efficient.
Yet, theyâd turned up with little to nothing.
Except one thing.
âWe werenât able to track the calls. Or the details of the person who delivered the flowers.â Cassie explained, leant back against the wall. You nodded, looking between the three women delivering your fate.
âBut, Beau introduced a new system at the station last month.â Jenny began explaining. Your hopes rose a little. âWhen your mystery admirer delivered the flowers, he had to give a deputy his name.â
You almost sighed in relief. âOkay..?â At least that was something. A name. You could work with a name.
Cassie flipped through a paper. âHe said his name was Jack.âShe looked up at you, brows raised. âDoes that name mean anything to you?â
Cold washed over you. The ground tilted under your feet. Jesus, were you going to pass out or vomit? You couldnât tell.
âHe said he was your boyfriendâ Y/N?â
You didnât realise you were falling until Cassie and Jenny lunged forward to steady you. The world seemed to fade to a dark blur, the name echoing in your brain like a gunshot. They were speaking, but the sound was muffled like you were underwater.
The next few minutes passed in a sort of haze. You werenât aware of anything, really.
At some point, theyâd sat you in a chair and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, crouching in front of you. They were trying to ground you, hands holding on, squeezing and talking in gentle voices, trying to ground you. Denise returned from the back room with a mug of tea, handing it to you, as you took it in autopilot.
âHey, there you are.â Cassie sighed in relief as she saw the daze in your eyes float away. âWhat happened? You scared us.â Your lack of a response seemed to worry her further.
The three women exchanged a look.
You knew what they wanted to ask. Who was Jack? Why did you freeze up like a damn idiot when his name was mentioned? They were trying to be respectful, by not asking, but, hell, youâd always hated being treated like you were glass.
You sipped the scalding hot tea. âHeâs my ex-fiancĂŠ.â Their attention shot to you immediately. You tapped your nails on the mug, listening to the clink through the silence. âI dated him for four years in New York. We lived together.â They all looked equally parts concerned. Your breath was stuck in your throat. You released it all with your next words. âHe was abusive.â
The room seemed to shoot down 20 degrees.
âOh, Jesus.â Jenny whispered, realisation hitting her. âHow bad?â You just nodded. That was enough. It was bad.
âI got pregnant.â Your voice caught in your throat, muscles tense. âIt was an accident. I didnât mean for it. I didnâtâ I couldnât keep the baby. I couldnât raise a child in that place.â You whispered quietly, head shaking. Your hands trembled, making you tighten your hold on the mug of tea. âI kept it from him, got an abortion. When he found out⌠Jesus, I thought I was gonna die.â
Cassie, silent, pulled you in for a tight hug. She cradled you close to her chest, sighing sadly. âYou think itâs him?â
You clung onto your friend tightly. âI wouldnât be surprised.â You wished it wasnât him. You really, really hoped it wasnât, and that it was just some freak coincidence. But it was such a Jack ďżźto do. To travel half way cross-country in some crazed attempt to reclaim your love.
âOkay, this is part where we tell Beau.â
Frustrated, you sighed. âIâm not telling Beau.â You argued firmly.
âWhy not?â Cassie asked gently. She pulled back from the hug to look at your face, her brows knitted together in concern. âHe can protect you, much better than we can.â
âHeâll worryââ
âGood.â Jenny put a reassuring hand on your knee, squeezing gently. âYou need protection from this asshole. And Beau can do that.â
For a moment, you considered it. Beau protecting you did seem like a good idea. And you knew he would, without a moment of hesitation. Beau would drop everything to protect you, and heâd made that abundantly clear.
But still.
âNo.â You shook your head, backing down on your decision. They sighed, evidently disappointed. âWeâll deal with it. We donât need him.â
You did need him. Youâd never needed Beau more.
âOkay.â Cassie agreed reluctantly. âWeâll deal with it.â
God, you were so fucked.
ââââââ âż ââââââ
taglist: @yvonneeeee @deans-spinster-witch @fanfic-n-tabulous @dwonfilm
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Bloody Mary | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions/descriptions of parental death, implication of suicide (take care of yourselves, my loves)
Word Count: 6379
A/N: Happy Saturday! Asks/Taglists are open!!
You and Dean hadnât talked much since the events on the plane. In fact, the two of you barely looked at each other anymore. Not out of disgust, your stomach just fluttered every time you caught a glimpse of him for reasons you couldnât explain. You didnât exactly like him, but you definitely didnât hate him, either. In fact, your most recent journal drawing had been of your hand wrapped in Deanâs. You smiled at the memory.
Sam slept in the front seat while Dean drove the three of you to Toledo, Ohio. You had actually been the one to find this case. Steven Shoemakerâs eyes had bled when he died. According to his obituary, his death had been swift. He was much too young to have had a stroke or an aneurysm, and seemed to be in good health. Therefore, you concluded this was your kind of gig.Â
Sam began to stir, catching your attention. You straightened in your seat as the Impala came to a halt in front of a large hospital complex. Samâs stirring and whimpering was getting worse by the second.
Dean shook his brother. âSam, wake up.â
He bolted straight up, confused, taking both you and Dean by surprise. After taking a second to catch his breath, he said, âI take it I was having a nightmare.â
âYeah, another one,â Dean reminded him.
âHey, at least I got some sleep.â Samâs faux optimism caused you to shake your head.Â
âYou know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.âÂ
Apparently, Sam was choosing the latter. âAre we here?â he asked.
Dean was happy to drop the subject, too. âYup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.â
The three of you began to approach the morgue wing of the hospital. You noticed Sam was holding the newspaper youâd circled Mr. Shoemakerâs death in. âSo what do you think really happened to this guy?â
âThat's what we're gonna find out. Ladies first,â you joked, holding the door to the first floor of the hospital open for the brothers.Â
After making your way through the labyrinth of hallways, you found the dimly lit and vacated morgue. In the large room were two desks. One was labeled with a nameplate for Dr. D. Feiklowicz with neatly stacked packets, files, and books atop it. The other was a chaotic mess of stray papers labeled âMorgue Technician.â
âCan I help you?â he asked.
âYeah. We're the, uh, med students,â Dean responded.
âSorry?â the morgue tech asked.
âOh, Doctorââ Dean gave his best shot at the name, ââFiglavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. Heâ uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.â
âWell, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.â The morgue tech was smug, snarky, and clearly lacked people skills.
âNo wonder they have him locked up down here,â you thought.
Dean changed course. âOh, well, he said, uhâ oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?â
âSorry, I can't.â The morgue tech gave a tight-lipped smile. âDoc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.â
âAn hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then,â Dean tried. âUh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us outââ
âUh, look, man,â the technician mocked, âNo.â
Dean laughed a little and turned around, mumbling. âI'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.â
You took the opportunity to try a different tactic. You leaned down on the morgue technicianâs desk, doing your best to take advantage of the fact that he probably has had little contact with women. âPlease?â you asked innocently. âThese guys are my tutors. Iâm really struggling in this class, and I justââ you bit your lip, ââI really need a good grade on this paper.â You used your arms to push your breasts together. âPlease?âÂ
You could tell you had him on the ropes. âUhâŚâ He couldnât tear his eyes away from your cleavage. He cleared his throat. âI, uh, I guess I could do that for you.â
You smiled innocently. âThank you so much.â
He began leading the three of you into an attached room to where the bodies were stored for autopsies. You turned around and winked at the boys with a smug smile. Dean rolled his eyes.
The morgue technician pulled the rack Steven Shoemakerâs corpse rested on out from the wall of stainless steel cells.
âNow the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding,â Sam said.
The technician pulled the sheet back from over Stevenâs face. âMore than that. They practically liquefied.â The poor manâs eye sockets were still bloody, and they hadnât yet been sewn shut. You could see the dried blood peeking out from under his partially-closed eyes.Â
âAny sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?â Dean suggested.
âNope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone,â the technician answered.
âWhat's the official cause of death?â Sam asked.
âAh, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.â
âNope, heâs way too young and in much too good health for that to have been the cause,â you thought, but kept the thought at bay.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked. You didnât like playing dumb, but with this guy, it was necessary.Â
âIntense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen,â the tech answered. Although, he was more responding to your boobs than to your face. You fought the urge to snap in front of his face and get his eyes back on target.Â
âThe eyes?â Sam asked. âWhat would cause something like that?â
âCapillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims,â the morgue tech shrugged.
Deanâs tone was still aggravated with the guy. âYeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?â
âThat's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.â
âHey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.â
âI'm not really supposed to show you that.â The technician looked back at you.
You suppressed the bile rising in your throat. Before you could do anything else, Dean stepped in front of you and pulled out his wallet. He shoved two twenties at him, hoping that would be enough. You could see the technician deflate, but accepted the money anyway.
Deanâs actions puzzled you. But you would be lying if you said your heart didnât flutter at the thought of him doing it out of protectiveness of you.Â
When you had finished looking over the police report, the three of you began making your way out of the building.Â
âMight not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing,â Sam suggested after having seen the report.Â
âHow many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?â Dean replied.Â
âUh, almost never.â
âExactly.â
âAlright, let's go talk to the daughter.â Sam started picking up his pace out of the building. You were happy to see him getting his mind off Jessica and back into the job.
âWait, Dean.â You grabbed his arm lightly before he could catch up to his brother.
He turned to face you.Â
âWhyâd you do that?â you asked.Â
âDo what?â He furrowed his brow.
âGive the morgue tech your hard-earned poker money,â you half-smiled.Â
âI just didnât wanna watch you prostitute yourself for information,â he replied gruffly, turning away from you.Â
You took offense. âHey, I was notââ
He turned back to you and brushed a hand over his hair. âYouâre right, you werent.â He paused again, and his voice came back quiet. âI just didnât like the way he was looking at you, âs all.â
Your heart swelled in your chest and your cheeks began to heat up. âThanks, by the way,â you said as you continued walking. You nudged his shoulder with yours. âYouâre going soft on me, Winchester.â
***
When you arrived at the Shoemaker house, you hadnât expected to be in the midst of the funeral gathering. If you did, you wouldâve dressed more appropriately. Given this fact, you felt slightly awkward when you knocked on the door. A man let you in and pointed you toward the backyard and the two daughters of Steven Shoemaker.
The two sisters were sitting with two blonde girls near the firepit. Dean addressed the older, dark-haired girl. âYou must be Donna, right?â
âYeah,â the girl responded.
âHi, uh, we're really sorry,â Sam lamented.
âThank you.â
âI'm Sam, this is Dean and (Y/N). We worked with your dad.â
The girl looked at her friend before looking back at your trio. âYou did?â She seemed surprised.Â
âYeah. This whole thing. I mean, a strokeâŚâ Sam trailed off.
âI don't think she really wants to talk about this right now,â one of Donnaâs pretty blonde friends spoke up.Â
âIt's okay. I'm okay,â she assured her friend.Â
âWere there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?â Dean asked.
Donna shook her head. âNo.â
The younger sister, who looked to be about twelve, turned around. âThat's because it wasn't a stroke.â
You were intrigued.
âLily, don't say that,â her sister urged her.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked the young girl.
âI'm sorry, she's just upset,â her sister responded for her.
âNo,â Lily wasnât having it. âIt happened because of me.â
Donna placed a hand on her shoulder. âSweetie, it didn't.â
You got down on Lilyâs eye level. âWhy would you say that?â
âRight before he died, I said it,â she said softly.
âSaid what?â
She lowered her voice even more. âBloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does.â
Donna interrupted. âThat's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.â
âI think your sister's right, Lily,â Dean broke in. âThere's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?â
Lily tried to take this in. She shook her head.Â
âExactly,â you told her. âIâm sorry, we werenât trying to upset you. Weâll just be leaving.â You pulled the boys away from Donnaâs group and went back into the house. Making sure no one saw you three, you crept upstairs to the bathroom where Mr. Shoemaker passed away.Â
Sam pushed the door open, and you noticed some dried blood still on the floor. âThe Bloody Mary legend. Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?â
âNot that I know of,â Dean replied. He walked ahead of Sam into the bathroom.Â
Sam stooped to the floor and touched the dried blood. âI mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.â
âYeah, but maybe itâs fine everywhere else, but not here,â you suggested.
âThe place where the legend began?â Sam tried.
You shrugged as Dean opened the medicine cabinet.Â
âBut according to the legend, the person who says Bââ you stopped yourself and noticed your reflection in the medicine cabinetâs mirror. âYou know what is the one that dies. But hereââ
âShoemaker gets it instead, yeah,â Dean finished for you.
Sam rose from the floor. âRight.â
âNever heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you-know-who scratches your eyes out.â
You considered Deanâs words for a moment. âIt's worth checking in to.â You went to leave the bathroom when you noticed one of Donnaâs pretty blonde friends approaching you.
âWhat are you doing up here?â she asked.Â
âWeâ We had to go to the bathroom,â you answered, not believing yourself.
âWho are you?â the girl pressed further.
Dean stepped closer to you from behind. âLike we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.â
She shook her head with scrunched eyebrows. âHe was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.â
âNo, I know, I meantââÂ
She cut Dean off. âAnd all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.â
Sam put a hand up to calm her. âAlright, alright, we think something happened to Donna's dad.â
The blonde looked at you three like you were stupid. âYeah, a stroke.â
âI donât think so,â you argued. âHe was pretty young to be having a stroke. His eyes wouldnât have liquified if heâd had a stroke. I think it might be something else.â
She scoffed and crossed her arms. âLike what?â
âHonestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth,â Sam responded.
âSo, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead,â Dean snarked.
âWho are you, cops?â she asked, her brows still furrowed.
âSomething like that,â you shrugged.
âI'll tell you what. Here.â Sam took a piece of paper and a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his phone number down. âIf you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call.â He handed her the piece of paper before leading you and Dean down the hallway.
Your next stop was the public library.Â
âAlright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town,â Dean began. âThere's gonna be some sort of proofâ Like a local woman who died nasty.â
âYeah, but this is hard. The legend is unbelievably widespread with hundreds of different versions of who she actually is,â you rebutted. âOne story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.â
âOkay, then, so what are we supposed to be looking for?â Dean asked you.
Sam answered. âEvery version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.â
âWell, that sounds annoying,â the older brother commented.Â
âNo, it won't be so bad,â Sam replied, âAs long as weâŚâ
You cleared your throat, gesturing to the only two computers in the library that had âOut of Orderâ signs on them.Â
Sam chuckled humorlessly. âI take it back. This will be very annoying.â
The three of you picked up boxes of the townâs newspapers and numerous books of Toledoâs public records and brought them back to Sam and Deanâs motel room.Â
You were beginning to go cross-eyed after reading for so long. Minutes turned into hours. Dean was sitting in a chair, you were sprawled across the floor with papers and books scattered around you, and Sam eventually fell asleep.
You stood up to stretch your legs and noticed his closed eyes. âPoor fella,â you said quietly. âHowâs he been sleeping?â
âHow dâyou think?â Dean responded, eyes never leaving his book.
You nodded. âThatâs what I was afraid of.â
âMaybe we should get him to take something,â you suggested.
Dean chuckled. âHe wonât do it.â
âIs it just because Iâm suggesting it that youâre saying that, or do you really think he wonât take it?â you countered.
He gave you a deadpan expression.Â
âYou Winchesters are just about the most stubborn people Iâve ever met in my life. Including your dad,â you jested. You heard Dean chuckle a little, too.
âAnd I wanted to tell you,â you started, âI understand why youâd suspect me in your dadâs disappearance.â
He looked away from his book and over at you. âWhat do you mean?â
âWhat you said back in Colorado? The Wendigo case? I get it.â
Dean raised an eyebrow. âYouâre still on that?â
âI mean, yeah, that was just about the most heated fight weâve had. It kinda stuck with me,â you answered honestly, looking down at your stripey-sock-covered feet. âAnyway, I just wanted you to know that I understand.â
A moment passed silently.
âAnd I, umââ you took a deep breath, âI want you to trust me.â You looked back at Dean who was studying you carefully.
The tense moment was interrupted by Sam jolting awake in his bed. âWhy'd you let me fall asleep?â
âCause I'm an awesome brother.â Deanâs attention was back on his book. âSo what did you dream about?â
âLollipops and candy canes,â the younger brother responded hazily while staring up at the ceiling.
You laughed humorlessly.
âDid you guys find anything?â Sam asked.
âOh, besides a whole new level of frustration?â Dean responded sarcastically. âNo. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirrorââ
âAnd a giant mirror fell on a guy named Daveââ you chimed in.
âBut no Mary,â Dean finished for you.
âMaybe we just haven't found it yet,â Sam tried.
âI've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know⌠eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary,â Dean said.
Samâs phone rang just as his brother finished talking. âHello?â A look of concern crossed his face. He was trying to calm whoever it was on the other end down.
You waited until he got off the phone to bombard him with questions. âWhat? What happened?â
âCharlie,â he told you. âHer friendâs dead.â
***
Charlie sobbed as she relayed the story of what happened to her friend Jill. âAnd they found her on the bathroom floor. And herâ her eyes. They were gone.â
You had met her in a park not an hour after she had called Sam.
âI'm sorry,â the latter responded.
âAnd she said it,â Charlie told you. âI heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?â
âNo, you're not insane,â you said.
âOh, god, that makes me feel so much worse.â You feared that might be the case.
Sam was honest with her. âLook. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.â
âAnd we're gonna stop it,â Dean assured Charlie, âbut we could use your help.â
You knew exactly where Dean was going with this. And thankfully, Charlie obliged. She snuck you and the boys into Jillâs room through the window. Dean and Sam gave you a boost into the second story room before throwing up Deanâs duffel bag.
âWhat did you tell Jill's mom?â you asked Charlie.
âJust that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things,â she replied simply. âI hate lying to her.â
You heard someone closing the blinds and curtains behind you. âTrust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights,â Dean instructed her.
She obeyed but asked, âWhat are you guys looking for?â
âWe'll let you know as soon as we find it,â the older brother responded.
Sam handed you a digital camera. âHey, night vision!â You turned it on. You aimed the camera at Dean.
âDo I look like Paris Hilton?â he asked.
You rolled your eyes, suppressing an amused smile. You walked over to Jillâs closet door and began filming the mirror on it.Â
âSo I don't get it,â Sam began. âI mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?â
You shrugged.Â
âBeats me,â Dean answered. âI want to know why Jill said it in the first place.â
âIt was just a joke,â Charlie replied.
âYeah, well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.â
You had made your way over to the bathroom and filmed around the mirror. You stopped when you noticed a trickle of something running from behind it. âHey, Sam?â
âYeah?â He came over to you.Â
âLook at this.â You showed him the substance oozing from behind the mirror.
Sam looked to his brother. âThere's a black light in the trunk, right?âÂ
While Dean left to get the light, you and Sam pulled the mirror off the wall. When Dean returned, you could see a handprint and the name âGary Brymanâ illuminated by the black light.Â
âGary Bryman?â Charlie asked.
You looked up at her. âYou know who that is?â
She shook her head. âNo.â
You learned from Samâs research and Charlie that Jill had killed Gary Bryman, an eight-year-old boy, in a hit and run accident. Dean then decided you needed to return to Donnaâs house. When you pulled the medicine cabinet mirror off the wall, sure enough, there was another handprint and the name âLinda Shoemaker.â You learned from Donna that her mother had overdosed on sleeping pills. You had left Charlie at Donnaâs house to comfort her friend after you and the boys had upset her with your questions about her motherâs death.Â
You then traveled to Fort Wayne, Indiana to investigate the death of a woman named Mary Worthington. She had died the same way these victims were; bleeding from the sockets where her eyes used to be. You spoke to the detective who was the lead on her case. He believed she spent her last moments trying to expose her killer she was having an affair with. She went as far as to start spelling out the name of her killer in her own blood on the back of her mirror. She only got to the third letter of her killerâs name before passing away. It made complete sense to you that her spirit would spend its time exposing the secrets of other murderers. Mary Worthingtonâs body had been cremated, but the mirror she wrote on had been returned to her family. Now, you and the boys were trying to track down where that mirror had ended up.Â
âOh really?â Sam responded to the man on the phone. âAh, that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror⌠Okay, well maybe next time⌠Alright, thanks.â He hung up.
âSo?â you asked.
âSo that was Mary's brother,â he informed you. âThe mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.â
Dean momentarily looked away from the road to his brother. âSo wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?âÂ
âHer spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow,â Sam responded.
âIsn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?â you chimed in.
âYeah, there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.â
Dean connected the dots. âSo Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.â
âYeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?â you challenged.
âI don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.â
âYeah, I don't know, maybe,â Sam sighed. His phone rang. âHello?... Charlie?â
***
You and the boys picked up Charlie and brought her to the motel you were staying in. You and the Winchesters were busying yourselves with covering every reflective surface in Sam and Deanâs room with sheets, blankets, jackets; anything. Charlieâs gorgeous blonde hair was knotted and messy, her eyes were puffy from crying but remained closed, and her knees were drawn into her chest.Â
Sam sat on the bed next to Charlie. âHey, hey, it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, alright?â
She looked up slowly.Â
âNow listen,â he began softly. âYou're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.â
âBut I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?â Charlieâs voice trembled.
âNo. No. Not anytime soon,â the brunet assured her.Â
You sat on the floor in front of her and put a hand on her knee. âWe need to know what happened, babe.â
âWe were in the bathroom.â Her eyes brimmed with tears again. âDonna said it.â
âThat's not what we're talking about,â Dean stated. There was something dark behind his tone. âSomething happened, didn't it? In your lifeâ .a secretâ where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?â
The tears were flowing from her eyes now. âI had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.â She pulled her knees back to her chest and buried her face between them.Â
You felt completely horrible for her. But there was no time for a therapy session because you and the boys were off to that Toledo antique store where Maryâs mirror was being kept.
Dean sped down the road despite the pouring rain which you deeply wanted to protest against. You remained silent anyway.
âYou know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.â Dean broke the silence.
âYou know spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, somebody died, and that's good enough for Mary,â you told him.
âI guess,â he shrugged.
âYou know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror,â Sam chimed in.
Dean turned his head to his brother. âWhy, what do you mean?â
âWell, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.â
âWell, how do you know that's going to work?â Dean asked.Â
Sam shook his head. âI don't; not for sure.â
âWell who's gonna summon her?â his brotherâs tone got a little panicked.
âI will. She'll come after me,â Sam replied solemnly.
âYou know what, that's it.â Dean pulled over to the side of the road. âThis is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the nightâ it's gonna kill you. Now, listen to me, it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.â
âI don't blame you.â Samâs voice cracked.
âWell, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done,â Dean responded sharply.
Sam tried to shake his emotion away. âI could've warned her.â
âAbout what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway,â Dean said.
âNo you don't,â was all Sam could muster.
âI don't what?âÂ
âYou don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.â
You had been trying to stay out of it, but couldnât hold it back anymore. âWhat are you talking about?â
âWell, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?âÂ
You and Dean were taken aback. âNo. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.âÂ
âGuys, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.â
Dean gripped the steering wheel, clenched his jaw, and pulled back out onto the road. The air was heavy and tense in the car. You sat back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest. No one spoke for the rest of the drive.
When you reached the shop, you picked the lock on the door to reveal dozens of mirrors.Â
âWell, that's just great,â Dean grumbled. He pulled out the picture youâd gotten from the detective in Indiana of Maryâs body next to the mirror. âAlright, let's start looking.â
The three of you split up. You were an incredibly detail-oriented person, but even still, all of the mirrors seemed the same to you.Â
âMaybe they've already sold it,â Dean called from across the room.
Your flashlight came to rest on a mirror you could swear youâd seen before. âI don't think so. Câmere, Dean.â
He came over to you and held up the photo to the mirror. And sure enough, it was a match.Â
âYou sure about this?â Dean asked his brother.Â
Sam nodded and handed you his flashlight. Taking a deep breath, he says, âBloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.â
You whipped your head in the direction of a light coming through the store.
âI'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful,â Dean ordered. âSmash anything that moves.â He crawled away from you and you heard him distantly say, âCrap.â
You paid no mind to Dean as you tightened your grip on the crowbar.Â
You heard a whooshing sound behind you and wheeled around. In the mirror was Mary. You sprang to action and smashed your crowbar through the dead center of it.Â
You could hear a distorted version of Samâs voice coming from behind you, but before you could aid him, your own reflection caught your attention. It wasnât quite syncing with your movements; instead looking at you menacingly.Â
Before you could move to hit it, you felt an insane pressure coming from behind your eyes, your throat constricted, and blood began to ooze down your face.Â
âYou canât keep running, (Y/N),â your reflection told you. âHow could you? How could you be so careless?â
The blood dripping from your eyes began to mix with your tears. You didnât have enough breath to protest. You began to sink to the floor, the crowbar clanging to the ground.
âItâs your fault that theyâre gone. Why didnât you try harder? Why didnât you fight to keep them alive? Why did you have to kill them? Your guilt should eat you alive. You donât deserve another family. You know you donât deserve to be happy again. You know your recklessness will get these boys killed, too. You are so selfish! And your brother! If you hadnât done what you did, he would still be alive, too. You are worthless. All you bring is death andââÂ
The pressure around your throat released when Deanâs crowbar went through the mirror. He barely spared you a second look before going over to his brother.Â
âSam, Sammy!â you heard from behind you.Â
You clutched at your throat and began to cry. You knew Dean had turned cold once more because he heard what your reflection said.
Sam groaned in pain as you saw Dean shouldering his brother and pulling him toward the exit of the shop.Â
âCâmon, (Y/N),â Sam urged you.Â
You shakily stood and did your best to follow the brothers out. Your dizziness caused you to fall back down to the ground on top of shards of glass, making you yelp as they pierced your hands.Â
âHelp her, Dean!â you heard Sam demand.Â
Dean came to your side, clearly in no hurry, and cradled you in his arms. Before he could get anymore than two steps, you noticed Mary crawling out of the frame of her original mirror. Her dark hair was matted and fell in front of her face. Her dress was tattered, and her limbs moved in an inhuman manner; cracking with every movement. You and Dean were sent flying across the floor toward Sam, and the bleeding of your eyes started again.
You looked to the mirror inches from your head. Despite your weakness, you forced yourself to grab it and turn its face toward Mary.
âYou killed them!â you heard her reflection cry. âAll those people! You killed them!â Mary started choking just as you had and then melted into a pool of blood on the ground. You threw the mirror youâd been holding and shattered it completely.
You dropped your head back to the floor.
âHey Sam?â you heard Dean say.
âYeah?â
âThis has got to be like,what, six hundred years of bad luck?â the older brother joked.Â
Sam chuckled weakly. You couldnât even muster up a laugh due to the bile rising in your throat. Memories were eating away at you, and the fact that Dean had heard your reflection was only adding to your anxiety. Your breath began to quicken, but you did your best to soothe yourself.
â(Y/N).â Sam drew you out of your trance. âCan you stand?âÂ
You tried your best to, but couldnât. Dean squatted down next to you. âCâmon.â He motioned for you to let him carry you. You complied. You looked up at his chiseled face. You swore he was handcrafted by the gods; perhaps Adonis himself. Your hazy mind couldnât focus on anything aside from his beautiful green eyes. You had so much to say to him about what heâd heard. You knew he didnât think highly of you, but your relationship had begun to get better. You didnât want, well, you, to ruin it all now.Â
âDean, Iââ you started.
He cut you off. âWeâll talk later,â he said gruffly. Despite his cold and guarded tone, he put you down gently in the back of the Impala.
You ended up falling asleep in the back of the Impala. When you next awoke, you had been tucked into your bed in the motel. Your boots had been discarded, your jacket had been removed, and your key that you kept in your jacket pocket was now on the nightstand beside you. The gesture was sweet, but your mind immediately started reeling about the conversation you needed to have with Dean.Â
You checked the clock; it was ten in the morning. You were surprised how late you had slept, and figured the boys had dropped Charlie off; potentially had even left town without you. Your anxiety getting the best of you, you rushed over to their door. Dean opened it when you knocked.
âHey,â you breathed.
âHey,â he echoed.
âCan we talk?â
He nodded.Â
You led Dean back to your room. You sat cross-legged on your bed and Dean chose the chair across from you.
âOkay, um,â you sighed. âWhat do you want to know?â
âWhoâd you kill, (Y/N)?â came his straightforward and dry response. âWhy did it say youâd get us killed, too?â
You looked down at the floor, the tears beginning to well up in your waterline. âI wanna tell you, I justââ
âLook at me.â His voice was firm.
You did.
âI need to know.â
You took a deep breath. âWhen I was eighteen, I was coming back home from one of my first solo hunts. My dad had sent me to take out a vampire nest on the edge of the town we were staying in. There were only three vamps there at the time. I got so excited that I had nuked them all, I didnât account for the fact that all three of them seemed like newbies. I didnât⌠register, I guess, that one or more was probably missing.â You averted his gaze, struggling to keep your voice level. âAnd so, I left. I went back to the house we were squatting in, and, um, one of them followed me.â Tears began to roll down your cheeks.
âSweetheart, thatâs not yourââ
You shook your head. âIt is. He turned them, Dean. He turned my mom and my dad. Iâ I had no choice. I had toââ Your sentence was cut off by a sob, but Dean understood what you meant. You wiped a hand over your face and did your best to continue your story. âI sat with their bodies for a long time after. When my brother came back and saw what Iâd done, he drew his gun on me. He, um, he wouldnât listen. He wouldnât let me explain. He couldnât shoot me, though. He⌠He just⌠left. And thenâ And then, his best friend called me a few days later.â The tears came back. âHe found my brotherâs car.â You pressed a hand to your mouth. âAnd he was dead in it.â Broken sobs wracked your body once again. âItâs my fault that theyâre gone, Dean, itâs my fault.â
You couldnât bear to look at him. You knew how disgusted he must be with you. And then, you felt the bed dip beside you. Then, a hand on your arm. Then, he pulled you to his chest, and you melted into his embrace. Your cries still shook your body, but Deanâs strong arms held you together. He sat with you like that for a long time.Â
You and the boys had decided to leave Toledo sooner rather than later after Sam told you what Dean had done to the cops in front of the antique store. Long after leaving Toledo, Dean broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the car.
âHey Sam?â
âYeah?â
âNow that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.â
The younger Winchester sighed. âLook, you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.â
Your eyes remained trained on Sam as he looked out the window at something you were passing by. His expression went from confused to scared to saddened, and you knew he was seeing Jessica. After all, you had no doubt your face mirrored his every time you saw your mom standing on a street corner or your dadâs bloodied body lying in your footpath. In time, you knew he would learn to live with it just as you had.Â
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz
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Spotless: Trill
Chapter Seventeen
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader
Other characters: Rufus (mentioned), Annie/Bobby, Kevin, Cas, Billie, Kelly Kline
Word Count: 1944
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, dream sequence in italics, minor character death, grief, Non-Jewish people trying to honor a Jewish friend's life, reader keeps putting out fires, unbeta'd
Series Masterlist
Dean leans over the edge of the hot tub, dripping wet. He is smirking and coaxing you to join him. Itâs warm, the height of summer somehow and you tell him itâs too hot for it tonight, but you canât stop looking at him, at every exposed inch of his torso.
He pushes up on his forearms, thick shoulders somehow distracting you from his husky voice. He tells you it will be alright, it will feel better once youâre in the water.
With him.
You look over and Samâs coming onto the patio, fully clothed in jeans and a flannel, hair flapping as he starts asking you about an interview. You look for your phone, but you look down to find you have no pockets, a swimsuit you wouldnât put on on your best day is all that youâre wearing.
Dean chuckles and suddenly, youâre beside him, water warm and soothing as he drags you onto his lap. Your phone buzzes somewhere and you canât find it on the ledge of the hot tub. Instead you feel Deanâs hands running over your hips, and heâs gone quiet, waiting for you to look at him again.
âYou deserve to be kissed,â Deanâs voice reminds you and you look down and find he disappeared. A phantom kiss on the nape of your neck is what finally makes you look behind you and youâre standing in Elizabethâs cafe, staring at the mural youâd been mesmerized by on New Yearâs Eve.
Your phone buzzed again.
You stared at the screen, dumbfounded, then quickly got out of bed.
You made it to Bobby and Annieâs in less than an hour, which was practically a miracle even in the middle of the day. You didnât even knock, instead you let yourself in through the back gate and stepped into the now somber kitchen.
Annie appeared suddenly. âSo you heard?â she asked softly, pulling you into a hug.
âYeah, I â How is he?â Bobby was the only thing on your mind the whole way there, not bothering to even post a condolences post from the band until you knew how he was handling the loss of his best friend and biggest pain in his ass.
âOh, you know, fineâ if you ask him. He hadnât seen him in months, but the secret diagnosis and the shock has him more pissed than anything,â Annie filled you in as you sat down at the island and let her pour you a cup of coffee.
Bobby had known Rufus for over thirty years, having worked as his roadie for most of the eighties. A prolific piano player and notorious grump, Rufus had been one of the first actual celebrities youâd come to know through the band family. Now that he was gone, it felt like one of the elders was missing from your California tribe.
An end of an era.
âWhatâs he doing?â
âSitting Shiva. Though I think thatâs supposed to be after the funeral,â Annie added offhandedly.
âHave you heard anything about services?â
Annie shook her head. âI texted his daughter asking if she needed anything and she just said that theyâd be in touch.â
You wanted to go give Bobby a hug, but you knew it was best to let him sit with the quiet for a while longer. Unfortunately, Dean didnât get that unsent memo.
A loud banging rattled the front door and before you or Annie could rush to open it, Bobby was yanking it open and bellowing âwhat in the hell is this all about?!â
Dean gave him a pointed look. âLunch,â was his only reply before stepping into the foyer, arms full of take out.
âWhatâd you get?â Annie asked, trying to ignore Bobbyâs aghast expression as everyone returned to the kitchen.
âI stopped by that little Kosher deli Rufus always liked, and got one of, well, everything. I figure, whatever we donât eat will keep,â Dean explained, unpacking submarine sandwiches and more sides than you tried to count.
Bobby tried to storm back to his study, but Annie wouldnât let him. You all ended up just eating in contemplative silence and letting the food soothe some of the ache. You were so grateful for Deanâs thoughtfulness in that moment, you almost forgot about your racy dream and everything that led up to it.
It wasnât the time or the place to get all hot and bothered anyhow.
After the food was done filling your bellies and Bobbyâs and Annieâs monster-sized fridge, you pulled out what you had brought along to honor Rufusâ memory, an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.
You set the bottle down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Bobby whistled and Annie tried to get up for glasses but you waved her off, you knew where they kept them. Dean was reading the label when you returned with four cut crystal tumblers and a side of ice, you could never remember if Annie took it straight, she drank the hard stuff so infrequently.
He cracked the cap open and then your phone buzzed, but you ignored it. He poured doubles all around, but served Bobby first.Â
âTo that dick, may he play on in glory,â Bobby toasted.
âLâchaim,â Dean replied and you and Annie followed suit.
The stories started after Bobbyâs second glass, with Dean filling in bits heâd heard from Rufus or had witnessed himself from after heâd earned the manâs rare respect.
One time Rufus actually asked Bobby to help him bury a body, but it turned out it was Rufusâ neighborâs dog and the lady was too heartbroken to do it herself. Another time they had been mistaken for federal agents due to their matching suits, but that was just because they had to walk passed an active crime scene on the way to Bobby and Annieâs wedding ceremony.
It felt good to laugh, even while it still hurt.
You got up to get everyone some water and finally checked your phone. What greeted you was a huge reminder that it was still a work day. And you needed to get back to it.
âOh, fuck me,â you groaned, scrolling through the rest of the comments.
âWhereâs the fire?â Bobby asked, the managerial voice coming out strong.
You looked at Dean and he could tell it wasnât great, but you werenât sure if you needed to bring Cas up at a time like this.
âEverybody alright?â he asked, testing the waters.
âFor now, until I kill them,â you muttered, thumbing your screen until you could get to your contact list. You felt everyoneâs eyes on your back as you started to pace as the phone rang, but Annie was the only one with the sense to find out what had made you so upset.
âThose morons,â you heard her say as you got sent to Kevinâs voicemail.
You hung up and called a different number. After three rings, someone finally picked up.
âCastielâs phone, how can I help you?â
âKevin?â
âTrouble?! Why are you listed as Y/N Y/L/N?â
âCuz thatâs my name, dumbass,â you snipped. âWhere are you? Is Cas there? Why didnât you answer your own phone?â
âRelax! I just got out of the chair, Casâ stencil is just getting set. I would have called you back in like five minutes.â
You exhaled. âOkay. Few things. Field trips with rival schools require prior permission, you get me?â
Kevin had the nerve to laugh. âItâs just Cas, itâs not like Iâm dating Ruby or hanging out with those wannabe Ghostfacers.â
You rolled your eyes. âOkay, but the band does have a designated artist. Who youâ very publiclyâ didnât use. You donât piss off somebody like Billie, Kevin, you just donât.â
âHow was I supposed to know?!â
You did not feel sorry for the kid. âPut Cas on the lineâ speaker if his arm is busy.â
You turned around and raised your eyebrows in question to Dean, mouthing, âyou want to hear this?â
Dean swallowed and shook his head. And you kept the phone call one-sided for your audience.
âIâm here,â Casâ deep voice greeted you over the line, low and private.
âWho's your publicist?â you asked, not bothering with formality or reprimanding a forty-year-old man who knows better.
âKelly, sheâs also our manager andâ.â
âJackâs mother. Oh, Cas.â
âDonât pity me, itâs fine. Sheâs good at what she does.â
âOkay, well text her my number and we can try and ease the backlash, but youâre gonna have to grovel to Billie on your own.â
âRight,â Cas bit out like he forgot who had covered half of his body in color.
You let the awkwardness hang in the air, but sighed when your curiosity got the best of you, âwhatâre you getting anyway?â
Cas hummed. âA quote from âGood God, Yâallâ looping around his earring.â
It was one of Rufusâ most loved albums, but not the most popular.
âWhere?â
âInside my left upper armâ Kevinâs is just below the seam of his elbow.â
âDid he cry?â
Cas sounded like he shifted positions, or maybe he was distracted watching the artistâs hands. âNo, but it wasnât his first one.â
âPity. Okay, well I will be in touch. Donât forget to talk to Kelly for me.â
âI wonât.â
âBye, Cas.â
âGoodbye, Y/N.â
You hung up and slumped in annoyance and minor relief.
âWhatâd they say?â Bobby asked, breaking the silence of the room around you.
âNothing too damning, but still enough to piss me off,â you replied. âIâll talk to Casâ people. Figure this out. Iâm sure I have a million messages from Becky and Billie and probably even Crowley to sort through. Assholes couldnât give me a day off.â
âYou want me to talk to Kev?â Deanâs voice broke through your mini-rant.
âOnly if you want to, I kind of gave him a piece of it already.â
Dean nodded and finished his glass.
âDamn idjits, even when they mean well.â
âTell me about it,â you said over your shoulder, heading to Bobbyâs study to get to work.
As it turned out, Kelly Kline was a stand up manager, both competent and protective. You figured out their niche and tried to work with it, though your fans were louder and more numerous, you didnât want the frenzy of the matching tattoos to become a question of loyalty, for either Cas or Kevin.
You had Bobby read over your post memorializing Rufus and got that out into the world before you left to head back home. Dean offered to wait with you on the porch. You sat, once again, in silence, letting the sunset and breeze off the ocean ease some of the tension from the day. When your driver was two blocks away, he finally turned to face you.
âHowâs he doing?â
You sighed and shrugged. âHe seemed good. But from what I gather, heâs got a lot on his plate.â
Dean nodded. âRight, new band, new set list to master.â
âNo, Dean, I think over everything else, the music is the easiest thing Cas has to deal with.â
âHuh.â
âYeah.â
Dean spotted the little hybrid approaching and he stood to give you a hug. âThanks for coming, I mean, I know it was for Bobby, but it was nice to see you on a day like today.â
âYou too.â And you meant it. You squeezed him one last time as the driver called out to you through the passenger window. âThanks for lunch.â
âBe safe.â
âTake care.â
You felt Deanâs eyes on you as you were driven away, back to the house he had bought with Sam way back when, where you were always, glaringly alone.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
@globetrotter28
@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
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Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader
Word Count: 8289
A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.Â
â(Y/N)?â
âSam.â
âI got coffee, thought you could use some,â he called through the door.
You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.Â
âDude, you realize itâs six in the morning, right?â You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.
âYou sound like my brother.â
You playfully glared at him. âDonât compare me to him.â
âHere.â He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.
âThanks,â you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.Â
Sam sat on the chair across from you. âStill havenât warmed up to Dean, huh?âÂ
âWell, he hasnât exactly warmed up to me,â you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.
âGuess thatâs true,â he conceded. âItâs weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.â
âTell that to him. He started it.â You took a big bite of your pastry.
âSeriously?â Sam laughed, â âHe started itâ?â
You shrugged, smirking.Â
He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. âHey, he found a case, though.âÂ
âOh, yeah? Whatâs up?â You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.
âWe donât know. The guy on the phone didnât say.â Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.
âGuy on the phone?â You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.
âYeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while backâs got another one for us. He called Dean.â
âAhââ you nodded, ââgotcha. So, whereâs he live?â
âPennsylvania,â Sam responded.Â
âOkay, not too far,â you noted. âIâll be ready in fifteen.â
***
âThanks for making the trip so quick,â a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. âI ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.â
You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.
âYeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?â Sam asked the older man.
Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. âPoltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.â
âHey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,â Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. âDamn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.â He addressed Dean. âTell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?â Heâd turned to Sam.
âYeah, I was. I'mâ taking some time off,â Sam explained.
âWell, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.â
âHe did?â Knowing what you knew about Samâs relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.
âYeah, you bet he did,â Jerry nodded. âOh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?â
âHe's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,â Dean lied.Â
âWell, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam andâ whatâs your name again?â he asked you.
â(Y/N).â
â(Y/N). Even trade, huh?â
âEh, I wouldnât say that,â you laughed.
âSay, (Y/N), howâd you get wrapped up with these two?â Jerry asked.
âOh, uhââ you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, ââI met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.â
âWell, Iâm glad youâre here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,â Jerry said.Â
âWhy?âÂ
He did not give a direct answer to your question. âI got something I want you guys to hear.â
He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.
âI listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,â Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. âNormally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.â
A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. âMayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485ââ the recording cut out with a static sound, ââimmediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your messageââ and cut out again, ââMay be experiencing some mechanical failureââ and then cut out one last time. The manâs voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.
âTook off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,â Jerry continued. âNow, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh⌠well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.â
âYou don't think it was?â Sam questioned him.
âNo, I don't.â
âJerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,â Sam listed.
âAlright,â the man replied.
âAnd, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?â Dean inquired.
âThe other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage⌠guysâ and galâ the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.â Jerry shook his head.
You frowned.
âNo problem,â Dean declared.
You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.
***
âHow fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?â you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Samâs computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.
âI donât know,â Sam responded. âBut Iâm gonna lose it if itâs much longer.â
âSame here.â At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.
âDude,â you started, âYouâve been in there forever.â
âWah-wah,â he whined, mocking you. âYou canât rush perfection.â He held up three IDs.
âHomeland Security?â Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. âThat's pretty illegal, even for us.â
âYeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,â Dean pointed out as he got into the car.
âAlright, so, what do you got?â Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.Â
âDude, really?â you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.
âShh,â the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.
âWell, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,â Sam explained.
âYeah?â
âListen.â
The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. âNo survivors!â
â âNo survivorsâ?â Dean asked. âWhat's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.â
You shrugged.
Dean let out a sigh. âSo, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?âÂ
âThere's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,â Sam began.
Dean hummed in affirmation. âOr remember flight 401?â
âRight. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.â
âI donât know, guys,â you stated skeptically. âGhost just doesnât feel right.â
âWell, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,â Dean quipped.
âItâs not about optimism, you asshole, itâs about being right and dealing with whatever weâre up against properly,â you pushed back.
âKnow-it-all,â the older Winchester replied.Â
âFuck off, Winchester.â
He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.âAlright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?â
"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,â you said.
âI wasnât talking to you, but why him?â
You glared at Dean. âBecause if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.â
***
You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospitalâs garden.Â
âI don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,â Max told your trio.
âRight. Some new information has come up,â Dean lied. âSo if you could just answer a couple questions...â
âJust before the plane went down, did you notice anything⌠unusual?â Sam questioned.
Max looked confused. âLike what?â
âStrange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,â Dean offered.Â
âNo, nothing.â
Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. âMr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?â
He nodded at you.
âWhy?â
âUh, I was a little stressed,â he said sarcastically. âI survived a plane crash.â
âUh-huh,â you nodded. âAnd thatâs what scared you? Thatâs what screwed you up so badly?â
You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. âIâ I don't want to talk about this anymore.â
âI know, but I also know you saw something up there,â you continued. âWe need to know what.â
âNo.â Max shook his head. âNo, I was⌠delusional. Seeing things.â
âHe was seeing things,â Dean half-mocked him.
You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.Â
âIt's okay,â you coaxed. âJust tell us what you thought you saw, please.â
âThere was⌠thisâman. And, uh, he had these⌠eyesâthese, uh, black eyes. And I saw himâor I thought I saw him...â he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.
âWhat?â Dean asked.
âHe opened the emergency exit,â Max explained. âBut that'sâ that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.â
âYeah,â Dean confirmed, clearly confused.Â
âThis man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?â Sam asked.
Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. âWhat are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.â
***
âI think we can rule out phantom traveler,â you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelpsâs house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.Â
âWhy?â Dean asked.
âYou heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. âBlack eyesâ points me to demon.â
Deanâs eyes widened. âDemons?â
âI mean, it makes sense,â Sam shrugged. âHe could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.â
âDoes that look like a creature's lair to you?â Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.
Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.Â
Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.Â
Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. âThis is your late husband?â he asked.
âYes, that was my George.â
âAnd you said he was a dentist?â Dean questioned.Â
She hummed in affirmation. âHe was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...â
Sam asked another question. âHow long were you married?â
âThirteen years.â
You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. âIn all that time, did you ever notice anything⌠strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?â
She paused for a moment. âWell, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.â
You nodded, clicking your tongue. âI think thatâs all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.â
She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.Â
âDemonâs sounding more and more correct all the time,â you smiled, trying to joke around.
âJesus, youâre annoying,â Dean groaned.
âAnd youâre a misogynistic dick that canât handle women with brains,â you responded.Â
âWhat, are we gonna duke this out now?â Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.Â
You stood by the backseatâs door. âYou started it,â you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.Â
âReally?â he leered. âYouâre gonna pull that card? Mature.â
âYou act like youâre any better.â
âGuysââ Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.Â
âYouâre such a bitch.â
âWow, havenât heard that one before,â you drawled.
âGuys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,â Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.
You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.
âDonât hurt my baby âcause youâre pissed,â Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.Â
âJust drive, asshole,â you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.
***
You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.Â
The boys had gone to a suit shop called âMortâs for Style,â and you went into a dress shop called âBetsyâs.â It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.
You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.Â
Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.Â
You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.
You looked up when you heard Deanâs voice. âMan, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.âÂ
Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive.Â
âNo, you don't,â Sam told him. âYou look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.â
You laughed at the younger brotherâs jeer. âWhat took you girls so long?â you asked once you got in the Impala. âI thought you two wouldâve beat me out the store by a long shot.â
âDean wouldnât leave the dressing room,â Sam said dryly.
âSeriously?â you droned.
You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, âI hate this thing.â
âHey,â Sam stared. âYou want into that warehouse or not?â
Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.
You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.
You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.
There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengersâ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.
You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.
âWhatâs that?â you asked him.
âIt's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.â
You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. âI know what an EMF meter is; Iâm not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?â
â 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,â he grinned.
âYeah, I can see that,â you quipped.Â
His grin disappeared. âBitch.â
âDick.â
You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.
Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Deanâs headphones.
âCheck out the emergency door handle,â Dean called to Sam.Â
Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.
âWhat is this stuff?â Dean asked.
One way to find out.â You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.
âWe need to go,â you told the boys. You werenât sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.Â
âWait, (Y/N), what if weâre missinâ something?â Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.
âToo bad, we gotta go.â You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.Â
At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.
You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, âIâm not gonna say, âI told you soâ!â Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.Â
Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.
Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, âWell, these monkey suits do come in handy.â
You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.
He tore out of the warehouseâs parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerryâs workplace.Â
"(Y/N),â Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, âhow did you know that?â
âHonestly, I donât know. My intuitionâs just always been pretty sharp.â You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when youâd known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.
âHm.â You could tell Dean still didnât trust you.
âDude, I donât know what else to tell you. Thatâs the truth,â you countered. âIâve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still donât trust me. I donât know what more to do for you.â
âMaybe because I donât know you,â he responded, never taking his eyes off the road.Â
âMaybe if you tried to know me, youâd find it a little easier to trust me,â you answered.
âNot interested,â came Deanâs grumbled response.
You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. âOf course not.â
***
You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.
âHuh,â Jerry remarked. âThis stuff is covered in sulfur.â
âYou're sure?â Sam asked.
âTake a look for yourself,â Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.Â
Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.Â
âIf you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,â he dryly stated, walking out of the office.
You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. âSee?â you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, âDemons.â
âThat would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,â Sam added.
âThis goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?â Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. âYou ever heard of something like this before?âÂ
Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, âNever.â
âWell, I have,â you said simply.
They both looked to you to continue.
âIn NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takinâ girls left and right.â
âThose were demons?â Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerryâs desk. âThat was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took âem on all by yourself?â
âIâm a big girl, Sam,â you chuckled. âI can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case Iâve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...â You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.Â
âIâm sorry you had to see that,â Sam told you gently.Â
Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, âAll in a dayâs work.â
Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchestersâ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.
âDemons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What Iâm thinking for these demons is that theyâre most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause diseaseââ
âAnd this one causes plane crashes?â Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.
You ignored him. âDemons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi canât go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.â
Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.
âWhat?â Sam asked.
He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. âI don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.â
âYeah. Me too,â the younger Winchester admitted.
Deanâs phone rang, and he answered it. âHello?... Oh, hey, Jerry⌠Whaâ Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that⌠Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.â
He hung up the phone.Â
âAnother crash?â Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.
âYeah. Let's go.â
âWhere?â
âNazareth.âÂ
âAh, thereâs the irony.â
***
After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuckâs plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerryâs office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuckâs plane was, in fact, sulfur.Â
âWell, that's great,â Dean sassed. âAlright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.â
âIf that's the case, that would be the good news,â you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. âNo offense, Chuck.â
âWhat's the bad news?â Jerry asked you.
âChuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,â you informed the older man.
âForty minutes?â Chuck inquired. âWhat does that mean?â
âIt's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,â Dean said.
âI went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,â Sam explained.
"Any survivors?â the older Winchester questioned his brother.
âNo. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.â Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. âOn the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?â
â âNo survivors,â â you realized. âIt's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.â
Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.Â
Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. âReally? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.â He hung up the phone. âAll right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.â
âThat leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,â you commented.
âRight. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,â Sam told you and his brother.Â
âThat sounds like just our luck,â Dean grumbled.
âDean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,â Sam said worriedly.
âCall Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,â Dean tried.
âI already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.â
âGod, we're never gonna make it,â you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.
âWe'll make it,â the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.Â
Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.Â
You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.
âWhat are you doing?âÂ
You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. âWeâre going into an airport.â
Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. âI feel naked.â
You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.
You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.
âRight there,â Sam pointed out. âThey're boarding in thirty minutes.â
âOkay. We still have some cards to play,â Dean paused, thinking for a moment. âWe need to find a phone.âÂ
He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. âHi. Gate thirteen⌠I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um⌠flight 4-2-4.â
He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.
âMiss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here⌠Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, soââ His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. âYou what?... Uh, well⌠there must be some mistakeââ
Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.Â
After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. â...Guilty as charged⌠He's really sorry⌠Yeah, but⌠he really needs to see you tonight, soâ... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic⌠Oh, yeah⌠No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!â Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. âDamn it! So close.â
"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,â you stated firmly.
âWhoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.â For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.
âDean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,â Sam argued.
âI know.â He looked conflicted.
âOkay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.â
Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.
âAre you okay?â the younger Winchester asked.
Dean hesitated. âNo, not really.â
âWhat? What's wrong?â
âWell, I kind of have this problem with, uh...â
âFlying?â you cut in.
âIt's never really been an issue until now,â he told you.
âYou're joking, right?â Sam huffed.
âDo I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?â he spat.
For the first time since you met him, you didnât feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.
âOkay, then (Y/N) and Iâll go,â Sam proposed.
Dean shook his head. âWhat?â
âWeâll handle this one.â
âWhat are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.â
âDean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.â
Dean scratched his head. âCome on! Really? Man...â
Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.
âWould you slow down a bit, please?â you asked.
âWhy should I?â
âBecause even if you get to the car before me, youâre not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,â you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.
He stopped, turning to face you. âAre you calling me stupid?â
âNo,â you told him. You truly werenât.
âDefinitely sounds like you are.â
You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. âI wasnât, Iâm simply pointing out the fact that Iâm the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you donât.â
âThere you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.â His attitude was truly exhausting.
Your voice rose as you defended yourself. âBecause I do! In this case, at least!â
âBut itâs not just this one time that you acted like youâre better than me,â he argued. âDo you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?â
âDo you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?â you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. âLook, we donât have time to talk about this.â You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Deanâs hands. âNow, letâs go.âÂ
You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.
***
You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.
"Just try to relax,â Sam whispered from the window seatÂ
Deanâs voice came back harder and slightly louder. âJust try to shut up.â
âOh, donât be a baby,â you scolded playfully.
âDonât be a bitch,â Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.
You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.
âIâm so glad this is funny to you,â Dean hissed.
âItâs not,â you answered simply.
âThen why are you laughing?â His grip tightened once again.
âItâs just,â you considered your next words carefully. âItâs kind of cute, thatâs all.â
Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Deanâs. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges.Â
Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. âWhy are you doing this?â
You rolled your head toward him. âEverybodyâs scared of something,â you quietly replied. âIt helps me to know Iâm helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.â
âI donât hate your guts.â He spoke so softly you almost couldnât hear him.
âPfft, couldâve fooled me,â you answered.Â
âYou justâŚâ he started, â...get on my nerves. âS all.â
You giggled.Â
A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you.Â
âYou're humming Metallica?â Sam asked Dean monotonously.
âCalms me down,â the older brother replied.Â
â âSome Kind of Monsterâ? Really?â You raised a brow at him.
Dean did not respond to you.
âLook, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,â the younger Winchester reminded his brother.
âYup,â you chimed in. âWe only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.âÂ
âYeah, on a crowded plane,â Dean commented. âThat's gonna be easy.â
âJust take it one step at a time, alright?â Sam said calmly. âNow, who is it possessing?âÂ
âIt's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,â Dean stated.
âWell, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,â Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.
Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.
âExcuse me. Are you Amanda?â he asked her.
âNo, I'm not,â she answered with a smile.
"Oh, my mistake.â
The flight attendant hummed in agreement.
He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. âAll right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.â
âWhat if she's already possessed, genius?â Sam asked.
âThere's ways to test that,â Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. âI brought holy water.â
âCorrection, I brought holy waterââ you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, ââAnd thatâs for when we try to exorcise the demon. Sheâll flinch at the name of god if sheâs possessed.â
âYeah, I know that,â Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.
He turned to go, but you stopped him.
âDean!â you whispered.
âWhat?â The annoyance in Deanâs voice was back.Â
âSay it in Latin.â
âYeah, I know.â
âThen what is it?â you smirked, quirking a brow.
â âChristo!â Iâm not an idiot!â he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.Â
You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. âLadies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...â you tuned out the rest of his message.
A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.
âAlright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,â he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.
âYou said âChristoâ?â Sam asked.
âYeah.â
âAnd?â
âThere's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.âÂ
âSo, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,â Sam explained.
The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. âCome on!â he whined. âThat can't be normal!â
âHey, hey, it's just turbulence,â you coaxed.
âSweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.â He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.
âOkay,â you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. âYou need to calm down.â
âWell, I'm sorry, I can't,â Dean sassed.
âYou didnât want to be treated like youâre four, so stop acting like it,â you commanded. âBe a man, Winchester. If youâre a basketcase, youâre wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.â
Dean took a deep breath.
You smiled. âGreat. Onto the Rituale Romanum.â
âThe what?â Sam and Dean asked in unison.
âThe exorcism ritual,â you elaborated. âIt's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.â
âMore powerful?â Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.
âYup.â
âHow?â He was starting to get panicky again.
âItâd just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,â you informed.
âOh. And why is that a good thing?â
â 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.â
âFirst things first, we got to find it.â
âThere ya go,â you chuckled.
âShut up,â Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.
You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.
You tapped his shoulder.
âAh!â Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. âDonât do that!â
âAnything?â Sam asked.
The older brother shook his head. âNo, nothing. How much time we got?âÂ
âFifteen minutes,â Sam told you and his brother. âMaybe we missed somebody.âÂ
âMaybe the thing's just not on the plane,â Dean shrugged.
âNo way. Dean, itâs gonna be here,â you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.Â
You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.
âWhat?â Sam asked. âWhat is it?â
You stared at the copilot. âChristo.â
The manâs head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.
You wheeled around to face Sam. âWe gotta talk to Amanda.â
âShe's not gonna believe this,â Sam contested.
âYouâre probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,â you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.
âOh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,â she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.
âActuallyââ Dean began, ââthat's kind of what we need to talk to you about.â
Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. âUm, okay. What can I do for you?â
âAlright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole âthe truth is out thereâ speech right now,â Dean rushed out.
She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.
âAlright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,â Sam continued for Dean.
Her grin disappeared. âWho are you guys?â
Sam ignored her question. âNow, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.â
âWe need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,â the older brother told her.
âI'm sorryââ she started, attempting to move past you, âIâ I'm very busy. I have to go backââ
âChuck Lambertâs dead, Amanda,â you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. âThe pilot from 2485.â
âWait. What?â She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. âChuck is dead?â
âYeah,â you said quietly. âHe died in a plane crash. Thatâs the second plane crash in two months. Doesnât that strike you as weird?â
She shook her head in complete disbelief.
âLook, there was something wrong with 2485,â Sam added. âNow maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.â
Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. âAmanda, you have to believe us.â
The blonde looked to the ground. âOn⌠on 2485, there was this man. He⌠had these eyes.â
âBlack eyes?â you asked.
She nodded.
âThatâs exactly what weâre talking about,â Sam clarified.
âI don't understand, what are you asking me to do?â
Dean answered before you got the chance to. âOkay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.â
Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. âWhy? What does he have to do with anything?â
âDon't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?â
âHow am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilotââ You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute.Â
Even Sam was getting impatient. âDo whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.â
âDo you know that I could lose my job if you��â
âBabe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,â you remarked.
She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.
As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodieâs pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.
A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, âYeah, what's the problem?â Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.Â
âWait,â Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, âWhat are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.â
âWe are gonna talk to him,â Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.
The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.
âOh, my god. What's wrong with him?â Amanda cried.
âLook,â Sam started calmly, âWe need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.â
Amandaâs breath quickened. âWell, I don't understâ I don't knowââ
âDon't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?â
She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.
âHurry up, Sam,â Dean groaned. âI don't know how much longer I can hold him.â
The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.
Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his fatherâs journal. âRegna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Dominoââ
The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.
Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. âI know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!â
You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.
Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.
The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passengerâs cabin.
A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilotâs body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.Â
Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concessionâs area.Â
You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.
Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.Â
You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.
You stepped out into the passengerâs cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.
You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips.Â
After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.
You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth âthank youâ to you and the Winchesters.
âLet's get out of here,â Dean said firmly.
You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, âYou okay?â
You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, âDean, it knew about Jessica.â
âSam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.â The older brother attempted to brush Samâs concerns off.
âYeah.â The brunet didnât sound convinced.
âCome on.â
***
The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.Â
âNobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,â he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. âYour dad's gonna be real proud.â
Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. âWe'll see you around, Jerry.â
You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.Â
âYou know, Jerryâ" he began.
âYeah.â
âI meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?â the young man continued. âI've only had it for like six months.â
âYour dad gave it to me,â Jerry explained simply.
âWhat?â Sam exclaimed in shock.
âWhen did you talk to him?â Dean questioned.
âI mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.â He took a pause. âThanks again, guysâ and gal,â he grinned.
âBye, Jerry!â you called after him as he headed off.
âThis doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,â Sam told his brother.
Dean dials what you assumed was his fatherâs number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.
The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.
You leaned over Samâs shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. âThis is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.â
Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.Â
âI fuckinâ hate flying,â you muttered.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel
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THIS IS AMAZINGđ
Chapter 4 - Cherry Pie (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Fluff, slight language
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~2.7k
[1] [2] [3]
A quick glance at the clock on the wall made you inwardly groanâhow could it only be 11:23 in the morning? Work days were known to drag on, but this was overkill. You figured it might have something to do with the fact that you were just hours away from seeing Dean again. It had taken you far too long to fall asleep the night before; you couldnât stop thinking about that damn kiss.
The way his lips felt against yoursâŚthe way it made you feel insideâŚ
The buzz from your cell phone distracted you and shook you from your thoughts.
Dean
Hey, Atlanta.
You didnât think youâd ever get tired of the nickname. Another buzz caught you off guard.
Dean
Or should I say, Hotlanta?
The text made you laugh out loud, which would have been fine had you been alone somewhere. Instead, colleagues that you hardly knew in this new office all turned to look at you.
âSorry about that,â you said softly as you excused yourself from the cubicle you had borrowed. You wandered to the hallway and stood there as you typed back a response.
Hi, DeanâŚyouâre ridiculous, but that still made me laugh anyway.
You nibbled on a pesky hangnail that had formed on your thumb as you waited for his text back.
Dean
I do what I can. You still up for dinner tonight?
You hurriedly typed back before you hit âsendâ and waited for his response.
100% yes! I can leave here at 4, but Iâm driving to you this time. Just send me the address and Iâll meet you there. Besides, Salina isnât really a lively cityâŚ
It didnât take long for your phone to vibrate against the palm of your hand.Â
Dean
Just wait til you see LebanonâŚ
Dean had sent you the name to his favorite burger joint just outside of Lebanon. As you drove through the small Kansas towns, you felt the flutter in your stomach all over again. You really couldnât remember the last time you were this excited to spend time with someone new. It was overwhelming, almost. Before you arrived, you decided to make a pit stop and pick up a cherry pieâDean had mentioned pie was his favorite dessert.Â
Just before 7pm, you pulled into the parking lot for Jiffy Burger. It reminded you of something out of the 50s; a diner, almost. It was cute, and definitely something you could appreciate. In the dating world, not that you spent a lot of time in it due to your focus on your career, there always seemed to be this draw to fancy restaurants where you never knew what fork to use.Â
Thankfully, it seemed like Dean wasnât interested in that kind of thing. Especially since he referred to the side salad you almost ordered in Atlanta as ârabbit foodâ.Â
As soon as you parked, you spotted the Impala. You gathered your purse and the pie you had brought, and headed inside.Â
A smile stretched across Deanâs face as soon as he saw you. You didnât miss the way his eyes traveled from your face down your chest to your legs. Heat pooled in your chest and cheeks as you suddenly felt slightly self conscious under his gaze. With your free hand, you tugged at the hem of your black blazer, but managed a smile back at him as you approached the table.Â
âHey,â you breathed as you finally reached him.
âHey, yourself,â he smirked. He stood and with one hand, he reached behind you and pulled you closer to him. It felt exactly like you would imagine a puzzle piece would as it melded with the other. âWhatâs this?â His question pulled you out of your thoughts.Â
You glanced down at the white grocery bag in your hand. âOh!â You set it down on the table and opened it up to reveal the pastry you had purchased at the nearest bakery. âI know you said how much you love pieâŚâ you gently held it up in the foil container. âI wasnât sure which flavor you liked best, but I felt like I couldnât go wrong with cherry.âÂ
He seemed truly surprised. âDamn, woman,â he breathed as his eyes grazed over the dessert. âItâs perfect. Thank you.â His words were so genuine, and he sealed it by leaning down and giving you a gentle kiss that only made you want more.Â
âYouâre welcome,â beaming, you felt accomplished as Dean pulled back the metal diner chair for you to sit. âThis place is so cute!â You glanced around at the neon lights on the wall, red and white checkered designs and servers dressed like they had stepped out of the 50s.Â
âThey have the best burgers Iâve ever had,â Dean said matter-of-factly. âAnd trust me, Iâve tried âem all.â As he settled back in his chair, his eyes found the plastic grocery bag again. âI seriously canât believe you brought me pie.â
âIt canât be that hard to believe,â you emphasized as you watched him. âIâm sure Iâm not the first girl to bring you a pieâŚâ you trailed off as you watched him contemplate.Â
After a pause, âNah, canât say thatâs happened before.â
It was a surprise to you; surely, you thought, Dean was a ladiesâ man. He had all the markings of one, anyway: the leather jacket, woodsy vibe, muscle carâŚÂ
âYouâre kidding,â you couldnât hide the surprise in your voice.Â
Dean chuckled softly. âNo, sweetheart. You are definitely the first.â
His words were gentle, but trueâyou could tell. A small tug pulled at the corners of your eyebrows. âIâm sorry, Iâm just surprised,â you said carefully as the waitress approached your table.
âHi there, my nameâs Alice. What can I get ya, doll?â She smiled at you with a grin that reminded you of how an aunt or grandmother might.Â
âIâll have water, please. Iâll just take a minute to look over the menu,â you smiled back.Â
She nodded and turned to Dean. âYou still doing alright, love? Need a refill or anything?â While her tone had been pleasant and kind with you, it really softened when she addressed Dean. It made you smirk. It only validated further that he was certainly a ladiesâ man.Â
âNah, Iâm alright, Alice,â he smiled back. âThank you, sweetheart.â You couldâve sworn you saw Alice swoon, but Dean didnât seem to notice. âHow was work today?â Dean asked as he turned his attention back to you.Â
âUgh,â you groaned, the smile completely gone from your face. âSame shit, different day, I guess.â You mumbled. Dean seemed interested so you continued. âI just landed a new project. Itâs a new client, so there are a lot of growing pains.â You explained. âBut it could always be worse, right?â
âI donât know,â Dean said as he took a drink of his soda. âThe more you talk about your job, the more miserable it sounds.âÂ
âDoing what I love doesnât pay the bills, Dean,â you sighed but found a small smile again. âWe canât all be traveling exterminators.â You winked.Â
Dean chuckled with a look down at his hands folded on the table in front of him, but then back to you. âWell, what is it that you love?â The way his eyes stared back into yours made your breath get caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to see youâwho you were, not just at face value, but deeper than that.Â
You took a moment to gather yourself before you continued. âI love writing. I always have. I tried applying it to a career, actually,â your mind wandered for a moment as you remembered the girl you used to be all those years ago. Your gaze found Deanâs once more. He noted the slight sadness that had appeared there. âIt just didnât work out.â
Alice had returned with your water now, and you heard her voice ask if you were ready to order.Â
âGo ahead,â you smiled at Dean. âI wonât take long.â You quickly spanned the menu as Dean ordered some burger meal in the background.Â
After he was done, Alice turned to you. You ordered a bacon burger and tater tots. Alice smiled at you both.Â
âIâll get that out in no time,â she said. âYou two need anything else?â You both shook your heads ânoâ.Â
âI think thatâll do it, thanks, Alice,â a smile pulled at Deanâs lips once more.Â
You noticed the way Aliceâs red manicured fingers touched Deanâs shoulder. âYou just let me know if you need anything else. Anything at allâŚâ she trailed off with a wink.Â
You pressed your lips together to contain the laugh that threatened to bubble up at how blatantly she was flirting with Dean. He didnât seem to notice, or at least, didnât bring any attention to it.
Once she had walked away, you noticed Deanâs gaze had returned to you. You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before you spoke again.
âSo, what about you? Iâm genuinely curious about this traveling exterminator business youâve got going on,â the words felt a little silly as they came from your lips, but you were being honest. Ever since Dean had mentioned it, you were curious. Dean chuckled softly as he broke eye contact. He ran his palms down the thighs of his jeans before he looked back up. You werenât sure, but you would have thought he looked nervous, which seemed odd to you. âSeriously, how do you love being an exterminator? And why is it the âfamily businessâ?â You used your fingers to air-quote the way he had referenced it before.
Dean shrugged slightly as it was his turn to take a gulp of his water. âWell,â he started slowly. âMy, uh, my mom died when I was really young. I was four and my brother, Sammy, was six months old.â He explained. That was something you hadnât been expecting and your eyes widened. You had somewhat assumed Deanâs parents may be deceased or out of the picture from the way he spoke of it just being him and his brother when you were in Atlanta.Â
âIâm so sorry,â was all you knew to say. Deanâs forearms rested on the table now as he spoke. On instinct, you reached across and placed your hand just over his. âThatâs awful. How did sheâŚ?â You trailed off, unsure if that was a question you should even ask or if he would be comfortable talking about it.Â
âThere was a house fire,â he explained softly. His eyes looked down at his lap. âBut, uh, after that my dad kinda had a hard time.â Understandable, you thought to yourself but kept quiet to let him continue. âWe ended up on the road a lot. My dad met up with my, uh, my Uncle Bobby,â he seemed to hesitate, but you still kept silent to allow him to work through what he needed or wanted to say. âThey started up this traveling exterminator business. Theyâd pick up jobs to help people out. My dad just didnât want to stay in one place too long, so we moved around a lot.â
It still seemed wild and wasnât anything you were familiar with, but now understanding the loss of his mom made it easier to absorb.Â
âI canât imagine,â you shook your head as you looked down to where your hand still covered his. You pulled it back gently. âIâm so sorry for all youâve been through, Dean.âÂ
âAh, itâs alright,â Dean cleared his throat and it felt like he had almost pulled himself out of his feelings as he sat back in his chair. A smaller smile crossed his face. âWeâve all got stuff. We just gotta go through it, I guess.â
While you appreciated his ability to pull through it, you knew there were probably some underlying feelings there. Your mind wandered back for a moment and pulled out something he had said in the hotel in Atlanta to you: heâs terrified of being afraid.
It started to make sense. He was afraid of being afraid: at four, he lost his mother in a horrible tragedy. And by the sounds of it, he may have lost his father because he didnât know how to be a parent in the face of tragedy. When he told you it was just him and his brother, he had meant it. Who wouldnât be afraid of being afraid after living through something like that?Â
âHere you are,â Alice reappeared with a sing-songy tune as she placed your burgers down in front of you.Â
âLooks great,â Dean smiled down at his plate. You felt a twinge of sadness for him and all that he had been through, but you pushed it aside just as he did.Â
âIt really does, thank you,â you smiled back at Alice. But her eyes werenât on you, they were all over Dean.Â
âMy pleasure, hun,â she practically swooned. âAnd I mean it, you let me know if you need anything else.â How many times has she said that now? You matched Deanâs smile.Â
âThanks,â Dean said as she nodded and turned to walk away with a long glance over her shoulder.Â
It took everything in you to contain the laugh that threatened to emerge, the thoughts of your previous conversation fading. Alice walked back to the kitchen and Dean looked at you with a clear âwhat?â look plastered on his face.Â
âOh, nothing,â you smirked before you took a sip of your water. âItâs just that I bet you could get whatever you wanted with a charm like that.â
âAlright, alright,â Dean rolled his eyes, but still smiled, as he shrugged it off.Â
âIâm serious. All it takes is a little bat of those lashes and sheâs putty in your hands,â you teased.Â
Dean leaned forward with his forearms flat on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. His face was close againâit reminded you of the Longhorn in Atlanta when he was so close, you felt like you could count the freckles that dotted his face. âAnd what about you, sweetheart? You turn to putty, too?â The playful grin that tugged across his lips made your stomach flutter.Â
You leaned back a bit and took another drink from your waterâit was for two reasons, really. It gave you a minute to gather your words, but it also cooled you off from the flame that burned so obviously in front of you.Â
âOh, no,â you quipped, as you attempted to seem unphased. The flirtatious notes from your tone came through, and Dean picked them upâthe way his lips crept up in a small smile gave him away. âIâm immune.â A shrug raised your shoulders but you couldnât help the pull of your lips as you caught the way Deanâs eyes glinted back at you.Â
âWe might just have to test that theory,â his comment made you slightly inhale the bite of your burger you had just consumed. Thankfully, your sputtering only lasted a second, but the gig was up and your cover had been blown. The heat that rose in your cheeks gave away that your stoic demeanor was just a ruse, and Dean was completely aware.Â
There was something about the way his lips still curved upward, but his eyes bore into youâthey were dark, but in a way that felt almost like you were caught in an electrical storm; the little hairs at the back of your neck stood to attention and goosebumps bubbled over your skin.
âAre you trying to seduce me, Dean?â Your voice was low now, your eyes trained on his. As flustered as he had gotten you just a moment before, you forced yourself to stay strong as you stared straight back at him without even a blink.Â
Without missing a beat, the muscle in his jaw clenched as he bit down with his teeth. The familiar upward curve up his lip made the dimple in his cheek pop as his eyes moved between your eyes and your lips. âIs it working?â
And just like that, you felt like putty in the manâs damn hands.
A/N: Well, hellllllo, Tumblr world! I know, it has been far too long. Things in my life are still hectic, BUT I'm back! I have missed all my reader friends, writer friends and writing in general.
I can't promise double updates each week (but I will when I can). Otherwise, new chapters will be posted on Thursdays moving forward.
I hope you all are well, and I hope you enjoy chapter 4!
PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER:
You had never consumed (nor had you seen someone consume) a burger so quickly before in your life. It was a good burger, but that wasnât what you could focus on.
When Alice came back to the table to check outâahem, onâyou (but mostly Dean), his gaze didnât even move from yours.Â
âWeâll take the check now, Alice,â he said carefully as he watched you. The way his eyes studied you made you feel naked. It was like nothing else existed in the world but you. Heat climbed your chest in blotchy patches until they formed puzzle pieces on your neck, your cheeks. The way your heart pounded against your sternum felt so loud, you could hear each beat in your ears. This man was doing something to you, and that was something you hadnât experienced in too long.
âHere you go, sugar,â Alice gingerly placed the bill in the middle of the table. She watched Dean intently, certainly hoping for maybe one more look into those beautiful green eyes. He glanced quickly with a smile as he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. He tossed enough cash to cover the meal and the tip on the table, then back to you.
âThanks, Alice,â he said, without missing another beat. He stood and held his hand out for you to take. âYou wanna get outta here?â
Words seemed to fail you for a second, so you just nodded very quickly. Before he could pull you towards the door, he grabbed the grocery bag with the cherry pie you had brought.
âOh, you forgot to eat your pie,â you murmured as you followed him through the diner.
âI was thinking we might have a different dessert tonight,â he paused at the door as his eyes looked over you once more. You realized he was asking if thatâs what you wanted, too. Yet again, all you could do was nod.
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Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Series Trope: Frenemies to lovers - please read individual chapter warnings.
Slice One ÂŽ - The pie thief has struck again. You know who it is but how to prove it? The answer is on the tip of his tongue.
Slice Two ÂŽ * - Out on the hunt, out of state and out of options; with your life on the line, Dean makes a call you're not happy with. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he brings a peace offering.
Slice Three ÂŽ + - You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.
Slice Four - Coming Soon
A/N: + denotes 18+ smut | * denotes violence, death or disturbing themes | Ž is a reader insert | ~ denotes a WIP
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Recommend me Jensen and Dean fics, I beg you đ
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