#hurt!dean winchester x y/n

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 24

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

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: PISSSTTTTT!!!! Here be smut! (I know you guys are gonna freak out when you see that warning lol.) 

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

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

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“Dean, come on, the show’s over,” Y/N laughed as she grabbed Dean’s hand and tugged, the lights were just coming back on in the theater, and the music from the credits were still blaring loudly all around the pair of them. Dean hadn’t budged when the rest of the movie goers had stood up when the show had ended, in fact, he sat with his eyes glued to the giant screen. 

Dean gave her a weak smile, and then slowly stood to his feet. He was stalling, she could tell. 

Even though she’d given him strict orders to stay in bed today while she ran her errands, and to not overthink any of this, apparently that’s exactly what he’d spent the day doing. She shouldn’t have been surprised really; Dean was the king of overthinking. 

“You never know,” he said, attempting to keep his voice light. “Sometimes they put shit after the credits are over.”

“I doubt that they have anything after that, that ending pretty much said it all,” Y/N giggled, and Dean shrugged as they shoved their way out of the darkish theater, and into the lighter hallways that lead to the exit doors, causing them both to squint. 

Dean wasted no time however, in rushing the pair of them through the crowded exit, and out into the parking lot, through the drizzling rain, and back into the safety and security of his Baby. Which wasn’t unusual for Dean, and had nothing to do with the fact that they were out in public, or that they were technically on a date; Dean just didn’t like being out in the open like that period. Old hunter paranoia probably. It was just something Dean now did that she thought nothing of. 

He did seem a lot more relaxed once he was back behind the wheel, and turning the key to send warm air filtering through the car. It was oddly still cold this time of year in Kansas. Normally by now they were starting to get the first hints of warmer weather, but it was as if the bitter cold refused to let go this time. 

“You wanna go grab some ice cream before we head home,” Dean offered, she could almost hear the tightness in his voice;  she knew Dean well enough to know that given the opportunity he’d try to exhaust her so that when they got home, she’d be ready to go to bed; without any extracurricular activities. That wasn’t going to help him though. Like it or not, the only way to overcome this irrational fear of his body was to face it head on. 

“Nah, I’m not really in the mood for ice cream,” Y/N deflected easily. “Why don’t we just head back for the night, it’s already almost 10, and most everything in this little town is gonna be closing down shortly anyway.”

She had a point there. Everything around here but the local watering hole, and the movie theater shut down at 9 PM, but she wasn’t about to give him the idea of going to the bar either. She wanted this to happen sober, for the both of them, and given the opportunity, Dean would make sure he was well and drunk beforehand so as to not remember what was to happen next. 

Dean didn’t argue with her as she expected, instead he just turned onto the main road towards home, driving past Winchester’s Auto Repair; over the rain-dampened streets towards home. She could see by the tightness of his chiseled jawline that he was overthinking what was to come, and she needed to break the ice a little, or else he was going to clam up on her any moment, and it would take days for him to open up again. 

“So,” she said, clearing her throat slightly to gain his attention. “When was the last time you’ve been to a movie?”

The question did as it was intended, and took the elder Winchester off guard, causing his brow to furrow as he continued to direct the sleek, black Impala down the empty suburban streets. 

“I think I was seventeen,” he answered after a while. “We’d been on a hunt for a while, and Dad and Bobby were having a tough time tracking down a shapeshifter in town. Sammy and I had been enrolled in the local school, and I met a girl there. She was only a year younger than me. I walked to her house one night, and took her to see a movie. The theater was only three blocks from her house. I don’t even remember what we were going to see, but as I walked into the place, the guy that was standing behind the counter selling popcorn and overpriced drinks eyes flashed white and I knew I found our guy. So, while the movie was playing, I slipped out and shot the shifter in the back of the head… I didn’t even bother going back in to get her, I just walked out, told Dad what I’d done, and we left town. That was it.”

A heaviness settled over Y/N; a suffocating one. It wasn’t fair that a seventeen-year-old boy had to live a life of such horror and violence that he wasn’t even able to take a girl he liked on a date. Then it hit her, the echoes of the past that were etched on his face as a reminder that Dean Winchester was anything but weak. In fact, the man was a killer by nature. He’d been bred and raised to be hard. John’s little soldier. That definitely wasn’t fair, but it made sense why the transition to normalcy wasn’t ever gonna be an easy one. Every time he’d even gotten a taste of what he thought might be normal, it was either ripped away from him by the hand of John Winchester himself, or the life that John had forced Dean to lead. Either way, the fault always seemed to fall to John. Y/N had to agree with Sam about that. 

“I’m sorry Dean, that’s horrible,” Y/N apologized, suddenly afraid that she’d single handedly put a damper on the entire evening and totally regretting that she had asked him anything about his past at all. 

“It’s okay,” Dean assured her as he turned onto their street, a tight smile gracing his face, showing off those eye crinkles that unquestioningly seemed to give her life. They could absolutely chase away any kind of darkness, she was convinced of it. 

“My life might not have been a fucking nineties sitcom sweetheart, but I can say I’ve seen and experienced things, and gone to places that no one else ever would. I don’t regret what I did that night. Hell, just in killing that one shifter, I saved countless other people. So, what if I didn’t get to get my dick wet, or say that I was able to walk the prom queen home from the movies while her ‘boyfriend’ was at home with a horrible case of mono that he contracted from cheating on her with almost every other girl on the cheerleading squad. All that shit is really trivial when I think back on it now, and if I wouldn’t have been where I was and hunting when we met, well, then I don’t think you’d be here sitting next to me right now, sounding like a really old fucking man.”

There was a chuckle in Dean’s voice, and it astounded her that even though his life had been anything but a bed of roses that he was even remotely able to see the bright side of it all. It was a true testament to the character that Dean tried to keep hidden, and definitely the reason that, after everything, he was still here. Still fighting. 

“Well, enough with the heavy,” Dean diverted after a moment, before she could even say anything at all. She was impressed that he’d opened up as much as he had tonight, his past wasn’t something he liked to talk a whole lot about, not that she blamed him. 

“What else you got on that little agenda tonight huh?” Dean questioned, giving her a smirk that could have melted the paint off of a fucking car. 

It was as if she felt the air shift between them, which sent a live wire straight through her veins, and caused her to openly shiver. 

Y/N shrugged, doing her best to play it cool, even though she had Dean Winchester in the flesh, looking at her like he was a predator, and she his prey. Something she had not seen from Dean in a long time, and never directed at her, usually it was at some bar room woman with more boobs than brain. 

That’s when she decided that if this was the way he was comfortable with this game going, then she was going to let him take the lead. Forcing herself to be his girlfriend for once, give him the lead, stop treating him like some child that needed her help with every little fucking thing, and stop being his fucking caregiver. 

“I don’t know,” she played coyly, twisting her hair in her fingers as she forced her eyes away from his piercing green oceans and to look over the expanse of their home instead for full effect. “Maybe I’ll go draw a bath, have some alone time before bed, read a book.”

Dean all but snorted with laughter as he kicked the door open and stepped out, flinging his hair slightly, and she wondered when he’d cut it, because he sure reminded her of Sam when he did that. Not that Dean with long hair and a light beard wasn’t attractive; it fucking was, it was just the little traits she saw of Sam in his older brother…. Or maybe it was the other way around and she never bothered to notice before. 

She watched in silence as Dean shuffled his way around the car, a smirk still firmly planted on his plump, naturally pink lips as he opened her door, and in a gesture older than them both, reached for her hand to help her stand out of the car. 

“I mean, I guess you could do that, it does sound nice,” Dean ventured, closing the car door once she was fully stepped out onto the pavement, before suddenly shifting the pair of them to pin her tiny frame against the cool, somewhat rain-dampened steel of Baby’s exterior; sealing his lips to hers in a breathtaking kiss that drove the cool mist of lightly fallen rain slowly soaking them both clean out of her mind. “Or you can come to bed with me.”

The deepened trimble of his rough voice  vibrated from his solid chest to hers, combined with his warm breath that brushing over her kiss swollen lips in contrast with the nipping wind on her face damn near had her melting at his feet. Her head was swimming with everything that was Dean Winchester, from his broad, thick shoulders, to the taste of his chewing gum still tingling on her lips. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she could survive this encounter, because the man had barely put a hand on her, and it was already more intoxicating of an experience than she'd ever imagined. 

“I’m pretty sure I like your idea a lot better,” she stammered once she finally got her mind to work in combination with her lips as Dean worked to derail her train of thought by trailing his lips and tongue along her jawline to her ear lobe. 

With a playful nip of her suddenly very sensitive skin, Dean forced himself off of her, lacing his fingers with hers, leading her towards the front door that was illuminated by the warm, glowing porch light they’d left on before leaving home for the evening. 

Neither really paid it all that much attention though. Just as they paid little to no attention to Dean unlocking the front door to let her step inside the warm, safety of home. Nor did either party really register the way Dean tossed their coats haphazardly towards the back of the couch as they made their way towards the stairs to make the assent to their shared room. Both seemed to be suddenly trapped in the surreal fog of the shock that this is going to happen. There was a determination in the squareness of Dean’s shoulders, there was no turning back now. His mind was made up. 

With his face set in an unreadable mask, Dean closed the outside world behind him, and with a flick of his wrist, locked the door. That's when her heart started drumming a fast pace rhythm in her rib cage, and she came face to face with her own fears, insecurities, and anxiety. 

What if she did something wrong? What if she hurt him? What if she was pushing him too fast? What if this is the ultimate mistake that would shatter him?

"Hey," Dean's voice captured her attention, and she was stunned at how close to her he was suddenly standing, allowing his finger to trail over her cheek before pulling her into his warm embrace. "Are you okay?"

Y/N swallowed whatever lump had formed in her vocal chords and nodded, grounding herself in the warmth and stillness of his body holding her against him. 

"I'm okay," Y/N assured him. "I'm more worried about you than myself. I don't want you to feel like we're doing this just because of me."

Dean shook his head before letting go of her long enough to pull off the hunter green Henley he was wearing, and allowed it to fall to the floor. 

"No, I'm just as much into this as you are," he assured her. "Regardless of how this turns out, I want to be close to you, and that's all that matters."

With more urgency and control than Dean had ever shown her before, his lips collided with her own in a battle of teeth and tongue as he slowly walked her towards the bed in the center of the room, clothes falling to the floor as they went, in a shower of panted breaths and pounding hearts until the back of her knees hit the bed, and she crawled her way to the top of the bed with Dean crawling over her, his lips still in pursuit of hers. 

"You're gorgeous sweetheart," he whispered against her lips as they both halted to catch their breath. "I don't tell you that enough." 

"Speak for yourself handsome," she assured him, allowing her fingers to trace the line of freckles that speckled his shoulders. 

Deep, hooded, green orbs traced the line of her face, and worked their way down her bare body before his lips made their descent from her throat, to her breast; taking his time with each nipple until she was writhing underneath the thick frame of him. 

"Dean," she pleaded with him as he began to rut his thick length against her already soaked and throbbing center. The head of his cock pressing against her swollen clit with each pass he made. 

"Goddammit baby girl," Dean breathed, his eyes damn near rolling in their sockets as he continued rutting against her.  "So close already and I've barely touched you. Can you cum for me like this?" 

Her words stuck in her throat somehow as the pressure in her body built until a moan ripped through her body as her vision went white, and her body shook into her release. 

"Fuck," Dean swore as he pressed his cock into her quivering cunt, and she screamed at his intrusion. 

He was massive and long. Dean slowly thrust in and out of her cunt, drawing out her orgasm as long as he could before her body finally started to adjust to him, and he began to set a steady pace. 

Lips found hers in a heated kiss as he started to fuck her in earnest. Pent up frustration and need started to bubble over in a mess of skin, sweat, and groans, as their bodies worked together with one another. Every drag of his impressive manhood sent that same rubber band tightening tighter and tighter as his hips rolled harder and harder, pressing his pelvis into her clit with each calculated thrust until suddenly; he stopped, teeth gritted, and breath caught in his throat as pleasure started to fade into pain.

But she didn't let it faze him, he was doing too well, he was far too close to a much-needed release; so, she hooked her leg around his waist and used the force of her body to turn them over.  The switch distracted him from whatever it was he was feeling, and his eyes rolled back into his head as her hips moved, picking up where he left off. 

As soon as she saw that she wasn't hurting him, she began to ride him in earnest and fuck, she didn't know if she'd ever felt so fucking full in her life. The change in angle increased the friction in the places she needed him most, but as his hips lifted to meet her, thrust for thrust, desperate and chasing his own end in a moaning mess underneath her, she saw stars. Her velvet  walls clamped down hard around his dick, and he exploded inside of her as they came together, both of them riding the wave of bliss until they were an exhausted, trembling mess. 

When she'd come down, she slowly dismounted him, and quickly made her way to the bathroom to clean herself up, and return with a warm cloth to clean Dean up too. 

Heavy green eyes watched in silence until she was done, and he pulled the cover over himself and lifted it for her to join him. 

Suddenly, she was beyond tired, her limbs felt like jello as the adrenalin drained from her body. She found solace in the warmth of his skin against her own, and the steady, calm rise and fall of his chest under her hand. 

"Are you okay?" Y/N questioned, and Dean cleared his throat as her voice stirred him awake from the doze he'd slipped into. 

"Yeah, it didn't hurt like I thought it would. The more we work at it, the more I will learn my limitations and things will get easier, but for now baby rest, don't worry about me, I'm better than I've ever been."

So was she, if she was honest. She was better than she'd been in a long, long time.

Forever:

@bubsonnobx​​​

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@hobby27​​​​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​​​​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​​​​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​​​​​​

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@idksupernatural​​​​​​​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​​​​​​​

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@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​​​​​​​​​

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​  

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@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​

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@herstarburststories​​​​​​​​​​

@mimaria420​​​​​​​​​​

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@jxackles

@lassie-bird​​​​​​​​​​

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#carry on #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #hurt!dean winchester #hurt!dean winchester x you #hurt!dean winchester x reader #hurt!dean winchester x y/n #hurt!dean x reader #hurt!dean x you #hurt!dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #jawritter #jensen ackles

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

-

Part 2

#jensen ackles #spn #smut #dean winchester #supernatural #demon dean #demon dean x Reader #hurtful #rapekink #misogny #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

[supernaturalfreewill]

Dean rushed to you as fast as he could and fell beside you on his knees, hurrying to untie the ropes that were binding you so tightly they were cutting into your wrists and ankle. "It's okay! You're okay. Jesus, what the hell did they do to you? I'm so sorry..."

You were weak but conscious and you gave him a small smile as you met his green eyes. "I told them you'd find me," you said. Your throat was dry and your voice came out uncharacteristically raspy. "I told them not to fuck with Dean Winchester."

Dean clasped your face gently, tenderly in both hands. "God, I missed you so much." His eyes wandered over the bruises on your face. "But this really isn't how I wanted us to reunite. Look at you... Can you stand up?"

You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, if you help me I think I can." You clung onto him and he looped a strong arm behind your back for support. "Did you—? Are they—?"

Dean's jaw tensed. "I took care of it. You're safe. I'm so sorry this happened to you." Regret was woven with his deep voice. "This is my fault... they came after you because of me."

"Dean, if this is the cost of being with you... it's still fucking worth it."

He stopped completely then and kissed you with a yearning and need that was clear. "I'm gonna take care of you," he murmured, brushing your hair away from your face. "You're okay."

"I know," you breathed.

Prompt: "I missed you so much, but this really isn't how I wanted us to reunite."

#dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean angst #supernatural #spn fanfics #spn family

[wild-lavender-rose]

I Choose You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You wake up in the hospital after a brutal beating with a demon that nearly killed you. Thinking he had lost you, Dean shows you just how much you mean to him.

Warning: Mention of injuries, mild language 

Note: This is yet another story I found in my drafts from over two years ago that I started and didn’t finish. Probably not my best work, but I hope you enjoy <3 

     “Baby,” your brow furrowed, reaching out to brush your hand against Dean’s arm. “Dean.” 

     Dean’s head jerked up from where he had been slumped over your bedside. “Baby.” He grabbed your hand, eyes glassy with exhaustion and tears. 

     “Dean,” 

     “I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He reached for you, cradling the side of your face. “How’re you feelin’?” 

     “M’sore.” You looked around you, foggy head beginning to clear. You were in the hospital. Machines beeped by your bed, keeping track of your pulse. Your arms were covered with thick white bandages. Much of your exposed skin was littered with scratches and ugly purple bruises. Sam was in the corner asleep in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair. He looked awful but Dean looked worse. 

     “What, why am I,” you reached up, fingers curling around his wrist. “The demon.” 

     “Got you pretty bad.” 

     “Did you get him?” 

     “Sent him straight back to hell.” Dean made a brave attempt at a smile for you, but his eyes continued to shine with unshed tears. 

     “Dean.” You nuzzled against his palm, kissing his skin with chapped lips. “Dean,” 

     “I thought,” Dean cleared his throat, glancing over at Sam before returning his focus to you. “I thought I’d lost you.” 

     “I’m okay, just a couple scratches.” You tried to lean closer but winced, causing Dean to grimace. “I promise I’m okay.” 

     “No, you’re not. God I hate this life,” A tear slipped down Dean’s cheek. “You shouldn’t have been in that fight, I should have protected you,” 

     “Dean, I chose to fight by your side,” 

     “You shouldn’t have to choose that, I shouldn't be a hunter in the first place!” 

     “Shh,” you looked over at Sam to make sure he was still asleep, watching his relaxed face for a moment before looking back at Dean. “Dean,” 

     Dean had his head in his hands, shoulders taunt with frustration and so, so many unshed tears. You nudged him, hand slipping through his hair and sliding to his neck when he looked up at you. “It’s worth it.” You whispered, eyes beginning to sting with tears of your own. “We save people, Dean. We hunt monsters and send them back to hell.” 

     “Baby, you nearly died,” 

     “And I'd do it again, okay?” The tears began to fall as you grabbed his hand and held it tight. “I choose you, Dean. And this life. I don't wanna be or do anything else.” 

     Dean smiled at that, a smile soft and pained. And still, after everything he’d been through, a smile. For you. “I love you.” 

     “I love you too.” You kissed his bruised knuckles, closing your eyes as Dean shifted closer to kiss your forehead. “You’re mine.” 

     Dean chuckled softly. “And you’re mine.” He whispered, sealing the promise with another kiss. 

#dean winchester #dean #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean x #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #dean hurt comfort #dean winchester hurt comfort

[octoberclidan]

You're Safe Here

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)

Note: This was requested anonymously. It's definitely one of my longer pieces, I hope you like it! There is reference to and description of domestic abuse and issues with both mental and physical health issues.

Request: The reader is running from her past. Her ex is an abusive ass. One day he had hurt her so bad, that she was left to die in their shared apartment. With a fractured skull, several fractured ribs and a stab wound to her lungs her neighbor found her and calls 911.

After being discharged not fully healed she packs a bag and tries to run from the bad memories. She goes to the next bus stop and never turns back. Several days sitting in different busses in her weakened state she decides that this should be her new hometown... But it's getting dark and sooner rather than later she is lost in the woods of this god forsaken town. Too weak to go any further she collapsed in front of the Winchester's bunker. The two find her after coming home from a hunt. They bring her in and Dean is immediately taken aback from her beauty but wonders why her body is littert with bruises. When she comes to she instantly panics because she thinks her ex found her. They keep her calm and after some days she trust these two handsome strangers, but never tells her story. Because of the injuries, which are still healing she often suffers from severe migraine attacks and also is out of breath fast because of her damaged lung.

Time passes by and the three are thick as thieves. But the two brothers want to know her story, what had happened to her that day in summer when they found her. Now it's winter and they actually only know some small thinks about her. Although she really likes the boys (especially Dean ;)) and trust them she lives in constant fear of her ex. Because of that stress her migraines get really bad (heavy dizziness, nausea, visual disorder). She tries to hide her bad condition but the observant brother don't eat her shit. After some rough days of her in constant pain and migraine attacks and the boys taking care of her, she has a full blown panic attack at night. The boys are instantly at her side, calming her down. But she is so out of it and just keeps mumbling apologies and pleads that they don't hurt her. Finally Sam and Dean do the math and are suspicious what might had happened to her. Dean, who is in love with her, gets so angry that he is discussing very loudly with Sam and the reader eavesdrops the wohle thing but just hears that Dean is disappointed in her because she was not honest with her truth. In her confused state she leaves the bunker. In just some thin Leggins and one of Dean's sweater she gets lost in the woods, a snow storm raging over the city. Too exhausted collapsed and has hallucinations about her past. Sooner rather than later the boys notice her disappearance and search for their friend. They find her deathly pale lying in the snow, sweating from a fever and the hallucinations....

It would be fantastic if you can come up with an happy end. They treat her and she apologizes for her lies concerning her past. And Dean then understands that she ran away because she heard her. She tells them her story and Dean tells her that she is always safe with him....

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was woken up by a beeping sound. Her eyes were still closed, and she could feel a small bubble of frustration building up when she struggled to open them. Her mind felt foggy, she didn't know where she was, or where the beeping from. She didn't know why everything smelled like disinfectant; her room should smell like vanilla from the candle that she had only just lit twenty minutes ago. Why did her head hurt so much? Why did breathing leave a sharp pain in her side? She tried to sit up, but her body felt stiff, it felt like there was something on her chest, holding her down. The weight on her chest was starting to make her panic, causing her breaths to quicken and the pain in her side increased. She could hear the beeping get louder and faster, what was happening? Where was she?

There was a muffled voice, but she couldn't quite make out who it was or what it was saying. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but she still couldn't open her eyes. The voice didn't sound familiar, but it sounded like it might be saying something familiar. Was it her name? Was the muffled voice saying her name? She tried to slow her breathing down as each breath felt like she was being stabbed. She took a deep breath in, tried to ignore the weight on her chest and then slowly blew her breath out. She tried this several more times, and noticed that the beeping was slowing down as she did so. She also noticed that the weight was starting to lift, and the muffled voice was becoming clearer. It was definitely saying her name. Finally, she tried to open her eyes again, and this time it worked.

Everything was unfocused, but there was a figure wearing blue beside her. "Miss [Y/L/N]? Can you hear me?". The voice was coming from the blue person. She rolled her eyes around, trying to find something to focus on when she felt the hand on her shoulder squeeze. She looked to her side and saw the figure's arm, then traced it up to the figure's face. It was a nurse, a woman, maybe early fifties, wearing a kind expression. The woman spoke again "Can you hear me?". [Y/N] nodded. "You're in the hospital. Do you feel any pain or discomfort?" [Y/N] nodded again and opened her mouth to speak, but it was completely dry and she could only cough. "Try not to speak, just nod or shake your head. Do you understand?" [Y/N] nodded her head while the nurse handed her a cup of water. "Okay, are you in pain?". Again [Y/N] nodded, looking down at her side. "Alright, I will adjust your pain medication". The nurse took her hand from [Y/N]'s shoulder and began typing something into a tablet. "Do you know why you're here?".

[Y/N] didn't answer straight away. She remembered sitting in her bedroom, she had just lit a scented candle and picked out a book to read. Her boyfriend was away for the weekend and she was looking forward to some alone time. Things had been rocky with her relationship for awhile now. It had started off great, Mark was a seemingly nice guy who she had met in work and they'd hit it off. They had similar interests and hobbies, they shared several friends, and she had moved in to his apartment over a year ago. However, not long after moving in things started to change. At first it was small things, Mark became lazier with the house chores, expecting [Y/N] to either do them, or leave them undone. They would both come home tired from work but [Y/N] would be the one to cook dinner, clean the dishes, do the shopping, and clean the house.

The choice between doing all the chores or leaving them undone had eventually been taken away when Mark began shouting at [Y/N] for not doing them. He would drop food on the floor and wait for her to clean it up. He would scream at her when he opened the fridge to find it hadn't been stocked up. He only ever opened the dishwasher to check that [Y/N] had emptied it. The insults started a few months later. He would call her lazy for being tired at the end of a long day, he would mock her outfit choices, or tell her she needed to put on more makeup. He would shout at her and threaten to leave her out on the street any time she stood up for herself. He would call her stupid, comment on her weight, tell her that she was useless. The thing that made it harder for her to leave him, was that he would apologise. He would call her a million names, shout in her face, make her cry, leave her alone to do everything herself, and then he would say he was sorry, that he loved her, and that he would do better. He would hold her, stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, and say everything would be okay. Then the cycle would repeat.

"Miss, you you know why you're here?". The nurse's voice called [Y/N] from her train of thought. She was in hospital because of Mark. He had made the move from verbal and emotional abuse to physical abuse. He was supposed to be away for the weekend, she was supposed to have a few days to herself to relax, get comfortable in her bed, and catch up on her book. She didn't hear the front door open or close, she didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. She only heard him when he had swung the bedroom door open, his face full of rage and his eyes locking on to her as if she was his prey.

"Where the fuck is he?" Mark spat. [Y/N] looked at him, startled and confused, a deer caught in headlamps. "Do not make me any angrier than I already am [Y/N], I said, where the fuck is he?"

"I-I don't... where is who?"

"I know you have a man up here, I know you're a stupid little whore. Tell me where the fuck he is. Now".

[Y/N] could feel her heart racing, she knew she was in danger, she knew she wasn't safe. "It's just me, I'm alone, there is no one else".

"You're really going to lie to my face and tell me you haven't been cheating on me? In my own fucking house?"

"I haven't! I swear, I have never cheated on you". Tears were streaming down her face, and Mark took a step towards her. That's when the light from the window hit the knife in his hand, drawing her attention to it. "Wha-what are you doing?" Mark took another step closer to her, and.. beeping.

"Mark" [Y/N] croaked out. The nurse looked up from her tablet and gave [Y/N] a kind smile.

"Yes, Mark, your emergency contact. He has been kept updated on your condition every day for the last four weeks. Don't worry, as soon as I'm done here I will let him know that you're awake". Four weeks? Had she heard that right? The door to the room opened, and a quick wave of anxiety spread through [Y/N]'s body before she saw it was a woman, not Mark. The woman walked into the room and took the place of the nurse, who handed off the tablet before leaving.

"Good afternoon [Y/N], my name is Dr. Greene, I am so glad to see that you're awake". She offered a comforting smile. "I know things might be a bit muddy for you at the moment, but that's okay. You're here because you were attacked in a home invasion, your neighbour heard screaming and called 911 but your attacker had fled the scene before emergency services arrived. You suffered quite severe injuries to your head, and you sustained several broken ribs and four stab wounds with a punctured lung. It was rocky at the start but we are confident now that you will make a full recovery. We'd like to keep you here for another few days for observation, but the fact that you're awake and aware is the good sign we've been waiting for. The police would like to interview you as soon as they can, they want to know if you remember anything about your attacker." [Y/N] noticed the beeping was starting to get faster again. She couldn't see Mark again. "Don't worry, I will refrain from letting them know that you're awake until Mark gets here, he has visited you every day and has stayed by your bedside every moment outside of his work." The doctor offered another comforting smile but [Y/N]'s focus was on the door. "If you need anything, just press the button here on the side of your bed and someone will come in to you. I will come and check on you in the next half hour anyway".

As soon as the doctor left the room, [Y/N] was pulling the IV out of her arm and leaning up to get out of the bed. She managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but she immediately felt pain in her side and had to stop moving to catch her breath. More carefully, she planted her feet on the ground and stood up, leaning on the side of the bed for support. She spotted a bag on the couch in the room and slowly made her way towards it, and was relieved to find some of her clothes in it. She lifted off her hospital gown and inspected her side, she wasn't surprised to see a series of stitches where the apparent four stab wounds had been. She slipped on some underwear, a pair of jeans, and a loose hoodie, not wanting to wear anything too constricting over her cuts. She found some socks, and her shoes were on the floor beside the couch. Once she was fully dressed, she took another look in the bag, hoping to find her phone, but it wasn't there. Looking around the room one last time to see if there was anything of use she could take, she spotted a wallet on the table beside the bed. Mark's wallet. Grabbing it she opened it to see what was inside and was almost excited enough to smile when she saw all of the cash he'd left inside it. She took all of it, zipping it into a pocket in her bag, leaving all of his cards and the wallet itself behind. She couldn't risk taking and using the cards, giving him an easy way to track her down, the cash would have to be enough.

She managed to make it out of the hospital and to a bus stop down the road, not sure exactly where she was going, but knowing she wanted to get as far away as she could. She didn't even want to be in the same state anymore. She got on the first bus that was heading out of town, and stayed on it until its last stop. She then got a second bus, and then a third, and a fourth. She spent the entire day on buses. It was 9pm when she finally decided that she needed something to eat. She found a diner not far from where the last bus left her, and she sat awkwardly at a booth, trying to organise her thoughts. She definitely got a few stares while she ate; she hadn't seen herself in a mirror since waking up but she couldn't imagine that she looked good having been unconscious for a month, just escaped a hospital and then sat on buses all day. She hadn't even realised just how hungry she was until she had taken her first bite, and she quickly finished all of her food.

Luckily there was a motel beside the diner where she was able to get a room for the night, but it left her low on cash. Counting out what she had left, she figured she had enough for one last bus journey which should at least get her to the next town over; Smith Center, Kansas. She had picked it out on the map at the last bus station, noting that it was small; no one would look for her there. It would then leave her with enough cash for a cheap motel for a couple of nights to give her some time to look for help or figure out what to do next.

***

Late morning the next day she found herself walking around Smith Center. It was a very small town, the choices of motels were limited. She arrived at the first one just to be told there were no rooms available. Her heart dropped when the next two, the only other two, told her the same thing. There were no other buses for the rest of the day, and she needed to find somewhere and fast. With no phone, she could only go by the map on the wall of the last motel. It looked like the nearest motel was a ten hour walk east, meaning it would be very late by the time she got there, and if they didn't have a room, she'd be stuck. She bought some cheap snacks and a bottle of water from the vending machine at the last motel before she set off on her journey.

***

Four and a half hours in she was walking along the edge of a road, only a couple of cars had passed her the entire walk so far. She had to keep stopping to catch her breath, and she had already finished her water. She cursed herself for not buying more than one bottle. It was also cold out, and her hoodie was doing little to shelter her from the breeze. Her side was killing her and her head was aching, her vision was becoming more and more unfocused the farther she pushed herself. She was pulled back to awareness by the loud beeping of a horn; a truck had slowed down beside her and a man was shouting something out of the window. "Are you alone out here?" He called. She ignored him, not even looking at him. "Hey, I asked you a question, are you alone? Do you need company?" The man was creeping her out and still without looking at him she turned sharply into the forest along the side of the road and just ran. She ran through the pain, she ran through the fogginess of her brain, she ran as fast as she could through the trees.

She needed to find her way out of the forest. She was cold, tired, it was dark, and the ache in her head and pain in her side had spread throughout her body. She knew that she was only moments away from collapsing. Then she found a door, surrounded by concrete and sunken into the side of a mound of earth, with a solid concrete building sitting on top of it. She grabbed onto the metal railing and made her way down a few steps to the door. She tried to bang on it but her strength was gone, she could only manage light taps; no one would be able to hear them. Too exhausted to walk back up the few steps onto the road, she leaned against the door. Any adrenaline she was running on had finally run out, and she slid down against the door, falling onto the ground and losing consciousness.

***

[Y/N] wasn't woken up by sunlight the next morning, or the rumbling of a car engine as it stopped outside the door. She wasn't woken up by the low voices, the hand on her shoulder, or the tap on her cheek. "Who do you think she is?"

"I don't know Dean, I got here at the same time as you".

"Hey". There was another tap on her cheek, and this time she stirred. "Hey, wake up". The sound of a man's voice startled her and her eyes shot open. The light from the sun hit her eyes before she could focus on the face in front of her and she shut them again while letting out a groan. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Maybe let her wake up a little bit Dean, she doesn't look well".

"Should we take her to the hospital?" The word 'hospital' triggered an immediate response in [Y/N]'s mind. Hospitals within the radius that she could have travelled to within the period of time that she'd escaped would be at the top of his list of places to check for her.

"No, no hospital, please". Her voice was only a whisper, she was completely dehydrated.

"Okay, okay, come on, let's get you inside then". The man, Dean, pulled her into his arms and stood up. He looked down at her face to see that she had lost consciousness again. "Sam can you get the door?" They made their way down into the bunker, and Dean brought [Y/N] straight into one of the bedrooms, laying her down gently and brushing her hair out of her face.

"What do you think she has against hospitals?" Sam walked into the room with one of the bunker's first aid kids.

"Not sure, but it looks like she came from one. Look, she has stitches on her head, under her hair". Dean pushed back [Y/N]'s hair to show Sam. Sam leaned over to take a closer look, and then reached for her arm and pushed her sleeve up.

"Bruise from an IV too. I dunno Dean, maybe we should take her to the hospital anyway. Look at her, she's sick".

"How many times have we had to avoid hospitals for one reason or another? What if she's running from someone? No, we can watch over her until she wakes up again and then we can figure out who she is and why she was at our front door".

Sam scoffed at him. "Why do you care? She's a stranger, we don't even know her name". Dean just waved him off.

"Just bring in a glass of water, I'll try to wake her up again". Sam left the room and Dean sat on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on [Y/N]'s shoulder and gently rocked it. "Hey, wake up". She didn't respond, so he tried again. "Sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?"

She could hear a man's voice, and she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. She bolted up and pushed the hand off her shoulder, how had he found her? She was in the middle of nowhere, she'd left the hospital, she didn't have anything trackable, how had he found her so quickly?

"No, please, get off me". Her eyes were already full of tears and she couldn't make out the face in front of her, but she assumed it was Mark, that he had managed to find her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run". She sobbed. Dean didn't know what to do, he just held his hands back and slowly stood up from the bed to give her space.

"Hey, hey, I don't know who you're apologising to but you didn't run from me, I found you outside my door". Why did Mark sound different to usual? His voice wasn't that deep.

"What's going on?" Sam walked back into the room with a glass of water and looked from Dean to [Y/N].

"Hey, my name is Dean, you're safe here okay? I'm not gonna hurt you". [Y/N] sniffed and blinked the tears from her eyes, trying to focus on Dean's face. Not Mark, Dean. Once she could see his face she moved her eyes to Sam.

"I'm Sam, you were kinda unconscious at our front door... here, take this". He cautiously handed her the glass and nodded approvingly when she took it from him. Neither of them missed the way her hands trembled as she brought the glass up to her lips. "Can you tell us your name?" She shook her head and Sam looked to Dean with a confused expression. "Do you know where you are?" She looked around the room and shook her head again, her lip starting to quiver again. "That's okay, you're in Lebanon, Kansas. Like I said, I'm Sam, and this is my brother Dean". Dean smiled reassuringly at her. "We noticed some stitches on your head and an IV mark on your arm, were you in hospital?" [Y/N] nodded. "Okay, and you don't wanna go back?" She quickly nodded and cleared her throat.

"I-I can't".

"Why can't you Sweetheart? You're hurt". Dean asked.

"I just can't, not safe". She looked down at her glass of water.

"Okay, that's alright, but can you let us look at you properly? We're actually both pretty good with taking care of injuries. Those stitches will need to be monitored for one". Dean pointed at her head.

"Okay". She whispered.

"It will be a lot easier if you tell us your name, even just your first name, I promise we won't try to contact anyone". Sam smiled comfortingly at her when she looked up at him.

"[Y/N]".

"Alright [Y/N], welcome to the bunker, just so happens to be one of the safest places on earth". Dean had a look of pride on his face as he made that statement, but [Y/N] wasn't so sure she got what he meant - bunker? Were these brothers some sort of paranoid conspiracy theorists? They weren't wearing tin hats or anything and they looked genuine, but living in a bunker seemed pretty odd. Sam seemed to understand the expression on her face because he was quick to change the subject.

"Do you wanna take a shower or something and get some rest? Or a bath maybe if you're feeling too tired to stand?" A bath did sound pretty good, she was starting to think she probably didn't smell great after being in a hospital for a month, riding on a bunch of buses, walking for nearly five hours and then running until she collapsed.

"I-I'd like a bath".

"Come on, I'll show you where to go and I'll get you some clean clothes". Sam held his hand out to her. She knew she should be weary of these unusually tall and handsome strangers, but she couldn't help but feel trusting of them. She took his hand and he pulled her up while Dean helped to steady her on her feet. Sam let her hold onto his arm for support as he walked her to the bathroom. He gave her soap, shampoo, conditioner, and a warm fluffy towel and told her to take as long as she wanted, and that he would leave some clothes outside the door for her.

The bath definitely helped. At first it stung where her stitches were, and also the little scratches she must have picked up running through the forest. Once she properly got soaked in the hot water however, the stinging faded and she could feel her muscles relax. She was surprised to see that Sam had given her pretty high end shampoo and conditioner for her hair, which took awhile to wash since there were definitely a lot of knots and even a small twig in it. She looked down at her body while she was washing it and was shocked at the number of bruises she had. Luckily the stab wounds looked like they were healing pretty well, though they would definitely leave some scars.

Once she felt clean, she carefully got up from the tub and wrapped the towel around herself before opening the door to see what clothes had been left; a t-shirt, a warm looking flannel, and pyjama pants. They were all far too big on her, but they were definitely comfortable. She made her way back to the bedroom she had come from, and found Dean sitting at the desk in the room flicking through an old book. He looked up at her when she walked through the door and smiled. "Feeling better?" He asked her.

"Yeah, it definitely helped". She made her way over to the bed and sat on the side of it. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course".

"Why do you live here? In a bunker?" Dean scratched the back of his neck nervously, not really sure how to explain it.

"It's kind of a long story". He chuckled. "Why don't I tell you tomorrow after you've had some rest?" He closed the book he was flicking through and stood up from the desk, making his way to the bedroom door. "I'm just three doors down on the right, if you need anything at all during the night just knock. I've left another glass of water for you on the bedside table there, did you want something to eat before you go to bed?" [Y/N] shook her head, she wasn't sure her stomach was up for any food just yet. "That's okay, but will you try and eat some breakfast tomorrow? I make some pretty good pancakes". He smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile was beautiful, and it pulled his attention away from the bags under her eyes and the scratches and bruises that he'd noticed earlier. He blinked a few times when he realised he may have been staring just a bit too long and he excused himself from the room, closing the door behind him.

***

[Y/N] woke up to the sound of screaming. She shot up in her bed and looked around frantically, momentarily forgetting where she was and not knowing where the scream came from. The door burst open and Dean was there, holding up a gun, which startled [Y/N] even more as she tried to push herself back into the headboard to try and distance herself from him. Once he saw that there was no one else in the room, he put the gun away and held up his hands to [Y/N] to show he wasn't armed anymore. "Hey, you're okay, I heard you scream so I'm just here to make sure nothing happened". [Y/N]'s breathing was uneven and she could feel that her forehead was covered in sweat and her cheeks were covered in tears. "Can you just breathe for me?" [Y/N] didn't respond, she just kept staring at him and struggled to deepen her breaths. "I'm going to come over to you now, is that okay?" Dean kept his hands up as he took a step towards her; she didn't object.

He sat down beside her and put his hands on her shoulders, making sure to move slowly and give her time to tell him to back off if she needed to. When she didn't say anything, he pulled her closer to him. "I want you to try and match my breathing okay? Just focus on me". His hands were wrapped around her back and she instinctively wrapped hers around his. Dean's breaths were even, and deep, and slow. After several minutes [Y/N] had calmed down, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head again Dean's chest. His hand went to her head, careful to avoid the stitches, and he held her. "Did you have a nightmare?" She shrugged her shoulders, not really remembering what caused her to wake up. "Okay, do you wanna lie back and try get some more sleep?"

She looked up, the tears on her face had dried and she just felt tired now. "Would you stay with me?" Her voice was quite and Dean looked down at her.

"Do you want me to lay with you?" She nodded shyly. "Okay, we can do that if it will help you sleep." Dean lay down beside her, staying on top of the covers while she got back under them. He slid his arm around her shoulder and she lay her head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on the top of her head. His fingers lightly traced circles on her arm, and her breathing became slower, and deeper. She didn't know why she felt so safe in Dean's arms, but she wasn't going to resist. She needed to rest, and he helped her do that.

***

When [Y/N] woke up she didn't feel right. She opened her eyes and blinked, looking around the room. She had a vague memory of the man, Dean, staying with her last night, but now she was the only one in the bed. She had an ache behind her right eye, and there was something moving in her peripheral. She looked over to the door to see what was moving, but the door was closed and no one was there. The movement was still in her peripheral, so she turned her head farther to the right to catch it, but it stayed in her peripheral. She groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. She'd had migraines as a teenager, but hadn't had one in years. They always started the same for her; a pain behind her eye, and an aura which would grow from her peripheral over the next couple of hours to the point where she wouldn't be able to see anything out of the affected eye. She knew the pain would also grow, and it would get so bad that she would throw up.

She needed to get up and get to a toilet fast. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and pushed up quickly, which was a mistake, because she was instantly dizzy and the pain in her side reminded her of the wounds, and then everything that happened came rushing to the front of her mind and it was all too much. She fell down onto her hands and knees. The ache behind her eye was turning into a pounding sensation, and the aura in her peripheral was creeping towards the centre of her vision. There was a knock on the door, and she had to cover her ears it sounded so loud. It slowly opened and Sam looked through, he had called her name but she hadn't answered. When he spotted her on the floor he rushed over to her and lifted her up onto her knees so she was kneeling. He scanned her face and his concerned expression intensified. "[Y/N] can you hear me? What's wrong? Where are you in pain?" She slowly removed her hands from her ears and placed them onto Sam's shoulders for balance.

"Mi-migraine". She managed to stutter. "Going t-to throw up, need t-toilet now". Without another word Sam hoisted her up and into his arms, carried her straight out of the door and down to the bathroom. He set her down quickly in front of the toilet and pulled back her hair as she threw up. It was basically just water since she hadn't eaten, but it was unpleasant anyway. Sam rubbed his hand in circles on her back and stayed there with her until she leaned back. "Sorry". She whispered.

"It's okay". He continued to rub her back. He thought about bringing up the hospital again but quickly decided that triggering a panic attack in the state she was currently in would not be the best. "There's a spare toothbrush here, you can brush your teeth. I'll get you a clean glass for some water too. You okay here by yourself for a couple of minutes?" She nodded and he left. She stood up and leaned over the sink. Looking up she saw herself in the mirror for the first time since the attack. She looked terrible. While the bath the previous day had cleaned her skin and hair, she was covered in scratches and bruises. Her eyes looked sunken in and her eyes were red, she hadn't even realised that she'd been crying since Sam found her on the floor. He came back into the bathroom several minutes later with some water and some clean clothes. "Thought you might want to change out of what you slept in last night. Sorry we don't have anything that would fit you, it's just me and Dean that live here. I do have some medicine for that migraine and nausea though". She took the water and pills from him and smiled as he set the clothes down on the counter. "If you take a right from the bathroom and continue down to the end of the corridor, the last right will lead to the kitchen, meet me in there when you're ready?"

***

[Y/N] sat at the kitchen table in her clean clothes and sipping her glass of water. The migraine's aura had disappeared and the nausea had passed, there was just a dull throb behind her eye left. She blinked, looking between Sam and Dean who sat opposite her. "Are you serious?" She asked. They had just explained to her what the bunker was and what they did for a living.

"I know it's a lot, but it's all true". Sam responded.

"You hunt monsters?"

"And save people". Dean added.

"You're right that is a lot".

"Look, I don't know what your deal is, or what you're running from, but we have lots of space here. You can stay while you recover, just try not to touch something if you don't know what it is, we're still cataloging everything. Don't want to accidentally send you to another world or something". Sam chuckled but she could hear a serious tone beneath it. "You should really have something to eat, how's your stomach?" He asked.

"Maybe something small?"

"How about some cereal? I can get you a bowl now and then you can go back to bed and rest. Consider that room yours for now. While you're resting I can go get you whatever you need, just let me know your clothing sizes and preferences okay?"

"I don't have a lot of cash left". [Y/N] looked back down to her glass of water. She flinched slightly when Dean reached out to cover her hand with his, but she didn't pull away; he was incredibly gentle for someone who looked so big and tall.

"We've got you. We have an unlimited credit card thanks to a good friend of ours". He smiled at her.

***

[Y/N] ate and thanked both of the boys for the hospitality they'd shown her before heading back to the bedroom. Her headache had completely subsided and she felt better having eaten something. Her side was the only thing bothering her now, but it was bearable. She had a dreamless sleep, and when she woke up the clock on the wall showed that she had slept through the entire night and most of the next morning too; it was nearly 12pm. She sat up and noticed that there were bags on the desk in the corner. She made her way over to have a look inside, and found clothes in her size. She'd asked for underwear, pyjamas, leggings, jeans, socks, and some t-shirts and hoodies, and surprisingly whichever of the boys had bought them had managed to find stuff that suited her style. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she went back to the kitchen and found Dean there.

"Hey Sweetheart, you sleep okay last night?"

"Yeah, thanks for the clothes, they fit".

"I'm glad to hear. You want some pancakes?" He asked while already shovelling some onto a plate for her. She started to eat when he sat down opposite her.

"So listen, Sam's gone off on a hunt today, should only take a day or two. I was wondering if you'd wanna help with some research? We're thinking it's a banshee but we're not too familiar with them".

"Yeah of course, you've done so much for me, if there is anything I can do to help you guys out just point me in the right direction!"

***

[Y/N] had been helping the boys out with their cases for a few months now. Her stab wounds had healed, and all of the scratches and bruises were gone. She still couldn't run without finding it difficult to breathe, and her head still hurt from time to time, but overall she was much improved. Dean often commented on her improved appearance, constantly complimented her and stole glances when he thought she wasn't looking. She also stole a lot of glances at him, and Sam found it entertaining watching both of them. Dean wasn't usually one to shy around women, but [Y/N] had some sort of special effect on him. Sam often brought it up to Dean, but every time he told him to shut up.

"Why don't you just ask her out? You act like a shy schoolboy around her. You've seen her every day for months and she doesn't seem to be annoyed by you yet, just give it a shot"

"We still don't really know a lot about her Sam. Sure she's been here for months and she's awesome, and don't get me wrong, she's hot, but she hasn't told us anything about her life before she showed up here. I feel like she knows everything about us and we don't know shit about her. She hasn't left the bunker since she got here, she's obviously terrified of something out there but won't say anything".

"Do you think we should talk to her about that? Like properly sit down and try get it out? She's improved a lot but it's still not healthy for her to stay in here all day for months".

Dean didn't answer right away. He'd been wanting to get the truth out of her for weeks now, but every time he tried to get some information about her previous life out of her, she'd either start crying or just lock herself in her bedroom and not come out until the next day. "I'll try to get her to come out on a supply run with me, see if she can handle leaving the bunker for an hour". Sam nodded in agreement with Dean's suggestion.

Dean made his way down to [Y/N]'s room and knocked on the open door, she was sitting on her bed reading through one of the bunker's many lore books. "Hey". He smiled at her.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked.

"We're kinda low on food at the moment, I was wondering if you'd like to come out on a supply run with me?"

"Oh, today?"

"Yeah, now actually".

"I-uh-can Sam not go with you?"

"I think it would be good for you to get outside for a little bit".

"I don't want to". Dean sighed and walked over to sit on the edge of her bed.

"[Y/N], can you please just shed a little bit of light on the situation? You've been here for months, we've fed you, clothed you, helped you heal, and you haven't told us anything about your life".

"You think I'm just taking and not giving anything? I've tried to help as much as I can with researching..."

"No, no I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying, we've become pretty close, don't you think? I'd say you're a good friend at this point". He smiled and placed his hand on her leg. "I just want to know more about you is all".

"I don't want to go outside". Dean could see that she was starting to breathe quite quickly.

"Hey, that's okay, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do". She had put the book down and was now picking at her fingers. He reached over to grab her hands to stop her from doing that when she yelped and pulled herself away from him, falling off the bed and landing on the floor with a soft thud. "Shit, sorry [Y/N], are you okay?" Dean knelt down and reached a hand out to put on her shoulder but she jerked away from him.

"Please leave me alone, don't touch me". He quickly pulled his hand back and stood up.

"Okay, okay I'm not gonna touch you. You're safe here, remember?" She slowly nodded as she tried to steady her shaky breathing. "Can you stand up?" She nodded again and pushed off her hands so she was kneeling. Dean held out his hand for her, half expecting her to swat it away but she did take it. He lifted her up and before he could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face in his flannel. One of his hands came up to hold the back of her head while the other snaked around her waist. They stood there together in silence for several minutes before [Y/N] pulled away from him. "Is there anything you need while I'm out?" He asked her. She shook her head.

"No, I'm okay". He sighed but nodded. "If you need anything while I'm out Sam is in the library".

***

[Y/N] struggled to get to sleep that night. She knew she couldn't stay inside the bunker forever and would have to brave the outside world at some point, but she was just too scared of running into Mark. She knew that Lebanon, Kansas, would be an extremely unlikely place to run into him or anyone else she knew, but every time she pictured herself out shopping, he would appear there too. Both Sam and Dean had been bringing up the topic of getting out of the bunker more frequently recently, and she was starting to think that they didn't want her around anymore. It was true, she hadn't really told them anything about her life before the bunker, while she knew pretty much everything that they'd gone through since Mary died when Sam was a baby. The images of being outside the bunker and running into Mark turned into nightmares as she drifted off.

She was back in her old bedroom, the footsteps were getting closer, she knew what was coming. She was begging him before he even opened the door not to hurt her. "Please, I'm sorry, I haven't done anything I swear, there's no one here". She locked the door to her bedroom and he began to bang on it from the other side. "Please go away!" She sobbed as he yelled her name, demanding to be let in.

"[Y/N]!" Mark shouted, pounding on the door. "[Y/N]!!"

"[Y/N] wake up!!" [Y/N]'s eyes opened and she gasped, sitting straight up in bed and frantically looking around for Mark. "[Y/N] you're okay, it was a nightmare. It's just us". She looked from Dean who was sitting on her bed with his hands on her shoulders, to Sam who was standing beside her with a worried look etched onto his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry". She wept. "Please don't hurt me, please don't touch me, I didn't do anything, please". Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Sam knelt down beside the bed.

"[Y/N], hey, it's Sam, I'd never hurt you". She continued to cry. "You're safe, no one here is gonna hurt you". She sniffed and finally looked at him, and then at Dean.

"Hey". Dean smiled at her. She reached out to both of them with shaky hands, and they met her half way, gently grabbing a hand each. "It was just a nightmare". He reassured her and she nodded. He reached over with his free hand and wiped the tears from her face. "Do you want me to stay with you the rest of the night or do you want to be alone?"

"Could you stay?'

"Of course". Sam let go of [Y/N]'s hand and leaned in to kiss her forehead, relieved when she smiled. He left the two of them alone. "Alright, scooch over". [Y/N] moved to the side of the bed and lifted the covers. "You want me to get in?" Dean lifted an eyebrow.

"Yeah". Her voice was very quiet. He pulled off the hoodie he was wearing and slid in beside her. She lay her head on his chest and he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulder and started to trace circles on her arm like he had the first night. He stayed awake long after she had fallen asleep. He needed to get the truth out of her so he could help her. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the apologising while sobbing and begging to be left alone were not going to get better unless she faced the truth. He had a growing suspicion about what had happened to her before she arrived at the bunker, but he had no idea how to confront her about it without setting off a panic attack. He hadn't voiced his suspicions with Sam yet, but he made a mental note to do that first thing in the morning.

***

[Y/N] woke up to an empty bed, her memories of the night before a blur. Her nightmares had been getting worse recently, but waking up screaming like last night was a rare occurance. She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to find the boys there and apologise for waking them up last night. She stopped just outside the kitchen door when she heard Dean say her name.

"I don't know Sam, I'm just.. disappointed".

"You think she's getting worse?"

"I think she's keeping secrets that are hurting her. It's keeping you and me awake at night too. It's just disappointing that she won't tell us anything. Literally everything we know about her is from when we found her onwards. Fuck, it's frustrating".

"You feel hurt that she won't let you in?"

"I.. I guess I feel-" [Y/N] didn't stick around to find out how Dean felt about her. She ran back to her room and quickly got changed out of her pyjamas into a pair of leggings that the boys had bought her, and Dean's hoodies that he'd shed before getting into her bed the previous night. She made her way up to the front door of the bunker without the boys noticing, took a deep breath, and walked outside.

***

There was snow on the ground, and the sun hadn't risen yet. She didn't know how long she had been walking for, and she had no idea where she was; somewhere in the forest near the bunker. A phone rang, and she could feel a vibration against her stomach. She reached in and pulled a phone out of the hoodie's pocket. It was one of Dean's spare phones, and the name on the screen was Sam. Even if she wanted to answer it she wouldn't have been able to, her fingers were numb and she was struggling just to hold the phone. As soon as it stopped ringing, it rang again, this time Dean's name appeared on the screen. Staring at his name and thinking about how angry he sounded that she wouldn't tell him anything, she could only focus on the disappointment in her that he felt. Both Sam and Dean had done so much for her, a stranger, yet she wouldn't open up to them. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the branch on the ground right in front of her. She tripped, landing the loose rocks on the ground. She couldn't get up. She didn't have the energy.

***

"How long do you think she's been gone?!" Dean was pacing up and down the bunker's bedroom corridor having not been able to find [Y/N] in her room or anywhere else. Sam had his phone pressed to his ear.

"Are you sure she has your phone?"

"I left it in my hoodie, and I left my hoodie in her room last night, and that hoodie is no longer in her room. So yes Sam, I'm pretty damn sure she has it".

"Well we've both called it and she hasn't answered".

"Can you track it?"

"I mean, yeah, do you think that's a good idea? Just given the fact that she was obviously terrified by being tracked before..."

"You know what clothes she has Sam, they don't exactly scream 'winter wear'. Track the phone. Now".

***

Sam and Dean set off into the forest after they had tracked Dean's phone. It looked like [Y/N] hadn't actually gone very far, they would have been able to walk to her location within twenty minutes, but Dean insisted on running. "She should be somewhere around here Dean". Sam slowed down as he caught his breath. "I'll ring the phone, see if we can hear it". Dean came to a stop and listened while Sam called. He heard a faint ringing sound to his left and ran in that direction.

"Shit. Sammy get over here!" He knelt down beside [Y/N] and grabbed her hand, it felt like ice. "[Y/N]?" She didn't answer, her eyes were closed and her body was still. Dean shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked from behind him.

"She's unconscious. We need to get her back inside and warmed up NOW". Dean slid one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. He and Sam walked quickly back to the bunker.

"You get her to bed, hold her, I'll get a hot water bottle". Sam moved towards the kitchen while Dean brought [Y/N] to his room. He got her under the blankets before taking his flannel and t-shirt off; he knew he was going to get hot under the covers, especially with a hot water bottle. He pulled her so she was laying completely on top of him, and he tucked the blanket around her as best he could. Sam came back in with a hot water bottle and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "She's still cold, but she's starting to shiver again, that's a good sign". Dean was trying to keep his breathing steady but it was difficult when he was fighting back tears.

"Is this my fault?" He whispered to Sam.

"What? Why would this be your fault?"

"Do you think she heard me? When I said I was disappointed earlier, do you think she heard me?"

"Let's ask her when she wakes up, there's no point dwelling on that now. Just focus on getting her warmed up Dean". Sam took a seat at the desk in the corner of Dean's room, he didn't want to leave until he knew she was okay. He was also a bit worried about Dean, he was unpredictable whenever he felt consumed by guilt. Dean rubbed his hand up and down [Y/N]'s arm to try and create some friction. Sam took [Y/N]'s temperature every ten minutes for the next couple of hours, reassuring Dean that she was getting warmer.

Sam had refilled the hot water bottle, and when he was putting it under the covers [Y/N] stirred in Dean's arms. "[Y/N]? You awake?" Sam asked and reached over to tuck some loose hair behind her ear.

"Sam?" She blinked her eyes open.

"Hey, are you cold?" She shook her head. She actually felt quite warm, and she only just realised that she was lying on something very warm. She looked up and saw Dean looking down at her, concern very apparent on his face.

"Hey". She whispered.

"Hey". He whispered back. She was very aware that Sam and Dean had just saved her, again. She felt a bit silly for running away now that she was thinking more clearly.

"I want to tell you what happened". She looked over at Sam. "I want to tell both of you".

***

When she had finished telling them about Mark, she was scared to look at either of them, worried that she would see pity, or disgust. She was still lying on Dean, and his hold on her only tightened as she told her story. "Thank you for telling us [Y/N]. We had a suspicion that it was something like that, but wow, you've been through a lot". It was Sam that had spoken first. She looked up at Dean to see that his jaw was clenched; he looked angry.

"Are... are you still disappointed?" She asked him. He shook his head and loosened his hold on her, suddenly aware that he was squeezing her.

"No Sweetheart, I'm just angry at what that dick did to you. If I ever see him... he's a monster [Y/N]. You know what we do to monsters". Sam nodded in agreement, though he was better at hiding his anger than Dean. "This is your home now. I'm your family, Sam is your family. We'll keep you safe. You're safe here, but we'll keep you safe no matter where we are. We'll get your confidence back, it will be easier to help you now that we know the truth".

"Can I stay with you tonight?" She asked.

"You can stay with me every night if you want to". He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead and her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed in the Dean's flannel, taking in his comforting scent. She was safe here, with Sam watching out for her and Dean holding her in his arms. Tomorrow would be better.

The end

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #sam winchester #dean winchester comfort #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn #spn reader insert #dean fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #hurt/comfort #injured reader #sam winchester comfort #sam winchester fluff

[multifandom-art-stuff]

Comfort after a hunt

Dean Winchester x reader

Hurt/comfort

2260 words

—----------------------------

It was supposed to be a quick and easy hunt. Just one simple ghost to send to rest, supposedly a quick job to put that restless spirit to rest. You were supposed to just dig his bones out, salt and burn them. It was supposed to be even easier because the grave was marked, for once, so it was easy to find it. Yet, nothing in the supernatural world ever played out as expected. And that made your lives more difficult.

The ghost was not very fond of you trying to get rid of him and was doing everything in his power to disturb you. You were digging the grave with Sam and Dean stood guard with a shotgun loaded with rock salt. He was supposed to keep the ghost busy enough so that Sam and you could salt and burn the bones. As Sam and I focused on digging the grave, Dean kept watch with his shotgun, eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. The moon cast an eerie glow, and the wind carried a distant howl that heightened your tension.

Suddenly, a rustling in the nearby bushes grabbed Dean's attention. He turned, shotgun ready, expecting another supernatural threat. Perhaps the ghost had a friend or a ghost dog.. To your surprise, a curious raccoon emerged, its shiny eyes reflecting the moonlight. Dean couldn't help but crack a half-smile at the unexpected interruption.

"Seriously, little guy?" he muttered to the raccoon, momentarily forgetting the ghostly menace we were there to deal with. Mesmerized by the raccoon's antics, Dean's focus wavered just long enough for the ghost to seize the opportunity and launch its vengeful attack.

In a swift, forceful move, he yanked you from the grave, throwing you forcefully to the ground. His pale and bloodied face twisted into an evil grin as he traced a rusty knife across my skin. The pain heightened when he cut a long gash on my chest, and a deadly gleam in his eyes hinted at his readiness to deliver a final, devastating blow. In that terrifying moment you couldn't help but wonder if this was the end. Fear gripped you. The ghost’s harmful intention was easily noticable. Luckily that’s when Dean shot him with salt and Sam lit his bones on fire. 

The ghost burst into flames and vanished leaving you breathless on the cold ground. As the shock began to fade, the searing pain in your chest brought you back to the harsh reality of what had happened to you. You realized that you were bleeding. Sam and Dean rushed to you, worry etched on their faces as they saw that you were hurt. Dean kneeled to your side and tried his best at stopping the bleeding. After doing his best in the conditions that you were in he picked you up and carried you to the car. 

In the car, the throbbing pain in your chest was a constant reminder of the dangers of the job you had chosen. Dean's gaze, flickering between the road and you, betrayed a silent concern that touched your heart. As you arrived at the familiar cabin Dean carried you from the car to the bed, giving a glimpse to his caring and nurturing self through his rugged and macho exterior. You winced with pain when Dean set you down on the bed. Sam rushed to the medicine cabinet to get disinfectant and bandages. The boys cleaned all your cuts and bandaged them up. You winced as the rubbing alcohol touched your wounds as they cleaned them. Once they had finished cleaning and bandaging you up Sam went to put the stuff away.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Dean asked, his voice comforting presence after all that had happened that night. 

“I can manage just fine on my own”, you replied, attempting to maintain a facade of self-sufficiency that crumbled the moment you tried to sit up, gasping in pain.

“Yeah, I don’t believe that”, Dean chuckled, a mixture of exasperation and affection in his expression. "I'll go get the washcloth."

A moment later Dean returned with a damp washcloth and a bowl full of water. He helped you sit up and started washing the blood away with the washcloth. The intimate act of cleaning your wounds served as a powerful testament to the bond that you had. Showing that you were more than just co-workers.

“Thank you Dean”, you murmured, your gratitude extending beyond just the physical care to the emotional comfort he provided.

“No problem sweetheart”, he replied, the endearment carrying an unspoken reassurance that resonated with a warmth.

“I just didn’t want to be a nuisance”, you whispered, your insecurity laid bare in front of him. 

“Sweetheart, you could never be a nuisance. Not even if you tried”, Dean assured you as he finished cleaning the blood off of you. He gazed into your eyes and tried to get you to understand that he was telling the truth.

A timid smile played on your lips: ”You can’t be certain of that.”

“Yes, I can”, he insisted, as he delicately finished the task of cleaning away the blood. As he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the tenderness in his touch and the sincerity in his eyes bespoke a connection that transcended the immediate danger that loomed over us. 

“I’ll be right back. I’ll just put these away”, Dean said to you and kissed the top of your head.

He returned to your side with one of his hoodies and he helped it on you. A simple act that carried a weight of comfort and familiarity. You changed your jeans into shorts and you curled under the blanket. Dean changed into sweatpants and lied down next to you. He pulled you against his chest and you lied face to face under the blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked.

“It hurts a bit, but I’ll live”, you answered. 

“Good, and we cleaned the cuts well so they shouldn’t get infected. Though I do wish I could take your pain away”, Dean whispered to you, pain in his voice.

“You can help me feel better by cuddling me”, you whispered. 

“That I can do”, Dean murmured and kissed your forehead. 

Cuddled under the blanket, Dean's presence offered comfort, not only physical but also comfort in knowing that someone had your back and would take care of you if you needed help. His humming of an old rock song became a lullaby that, despite the echoes of recent terror, lulled you into a sense of security. As you began to fall asleep, you couldn't help but utter words that held both a confession and a reassurance.

“I love you, Dean”, you mumbled and gave him a kiss.

After you had fallen asleep Dean stopped humming, his gaze lingering on your slumbering form. In the quiet of the room, he whispered words of vulnerability that echoed the unspoken fears of a hunter whose heart was set to insure the well-being of another.

“You know I couldn’t live if something happened to you, right. I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt”, he confided, his words a whispered promise that hung in the air, transcending the perils of our shared existence.

—----------------------------

You awoke abruptly, gasping for breath, as if the air itself had turned to a suffocating weight. The remnants of a nightmare clung to you like a vice, and your chest tightened in a grip of irrational fear. The room felt like it was closing in, and the moonlight casting eerie shadows only added to the overwhelming sense of dread.

Dean stirred beside you, sensing the distress before you even had a chance to put it into words. "Hey, hey, what happened?" he asked, concern etched across his face as he reached out to touch my trembling shoulder.

In the nightmare, the ghost's malevolence had escalated beyond anything you'd ever encountered. It wasn't just a fleeting encounter: it was an unrelenting onslaught of terror. The ghost's chilling touch seemed to sear into your very soul, and the whispers of despair echoed in your ears, threatening to drown you in an abyss of hopelessness.

But now, in the waking world, the nightmare's grip refused to loosen. Panic surged through you, an irrational fear that clung relentlessly. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, and your hands trembled uncontrollably. 

Dean's voice, steady and grounding, cut through the chaos. "Look at me," he urged gently, guiding you to meet his concerned gaze. "You're safe. It was just a dream. You're here with me."

His words, a lifeline in the sea of panic, slowly anchored you to reality. Dean's strong, reassuring presence became your focal point as he guided you through the breathing excercises you had so often used, using his own inhales and exhales as an example. The rhythm began to steady, the tightness in your chest gradually releasing its grip.

Dean continued to speak in a low, soothing manner, creating a bridge between the nightmare and the safety of the present. His touch, firm yet gentle, grounded you in the reality of the shared space you occupied. Slowly, the panic subsided, replaced by a profound gratitude for the steadfast presence of the man who stood by you through the good and easy times but also through the more difficult times.

As the remnants of the nightmare faded, Dean's comforting embrace remained, a testament to the unwavering support that transcended the boundary between dreams and reality. His presence, solid and comforting, helped dispel the residual fear. As I nestled into the warmth of Dean's embrace, the echoes of the nightmare began to fade. In the quiet of the night, his whispered reassurances became a lullaby, gently guiding me back into the realm of peaceful slumber.

—----------------------------

The next morning, soft rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. You stirred from your sleep, the memory of the previous night's encounter with the vengeful ghost still lingering in your mind. Glancing to your side, you found Dean already awake, watching over you with a quiet concern that spoke volumes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice a gentle murmur.

The pain lingered, a persistent reminder of the ghost's malevolence, but the warmth of Dean's presence offered comfort. 

"Better, thanks to you," you replied, a genuine smile on your lips.

Dean leaned in, planting a tender kiss on my forehead: "Glad to hear that. You scared the hell out of Sam and I last night."

"I scared myself too," you admitted, the gravity of the danger sinking in.

As you attempted to sit up, Dean offered a supportive hand. The pain was a dull ache now, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. You exchanged a silent understanding, the unspoken acknowledgment of the risks inherent in your chosen path.

Sam knocked your door and peeked his head through: "Thought you might be hungry," he said with a warm smile, “ There is food ready in the kitchen.”

"Thanks, Sam," you said, realizing that these men really cared for you. 

As you shared a quiet breakfast, the camaraderie that bound you felt more strongly than ever. The events of the night before had heightened our awareness of the fragility of life, emphasizing the need to cherish even the small moments in life.

Dean's gaze never wavered from you, a protective instinct evident in his eyes. 

"We should take it easy today", he suggested, his concern extending beyond the immediate aftermath of the hunt.

Sam nodded in agreement: "Yeah, a day of rest won't hurt. We've earned it. How about a movie night today?"

“Yeah, that sounds good”, Dean and I agreed. 

The notion of a day free from the supernatural chaos that defined our lives sounded lovely. You spent the morning in shared silence, each lost in your own thoughts. Everyone figuring out what to do better next time so no-one would get hurt. The cabin became a safe heaven for a while, away from all evil in the world. You in it, with two of your favorite humans. 

Later, as the day went on, you found yourselves gathered outside the cabin. The air was crisp, the echoes of the previous night's terror replaced by the serene sounds of nature. Dean's arm found its way around your shoulders, a silent reassurance that you’ve faced the uncertainties of the future together.

"We've been through worse," Dean remarked, his tone a mix of reassurance and determination.

"And we'll get through whatever comes next," Sam added, a conviction in his voice that mirrored the resilience ingrained in all of you.

As the day unfolded, the cabin became a refuge—a place to heal, reflect, and fortify ourselves for the challenges that lay ahead. The bond you shared, forged because of all the supernatural battles, emerged stronger, a testament to the enduring strength of those who faced the darkness head-on.

And so, in the quietude of the morning and the serenity of the day, you found solace. In each other's company, you felt safe. Watching old comedies next to two of your favorite people, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You had decided to order pizza for dinner so there were pizza boxes thrown on the table in front of you. Sam’s head started to nod and he fell asleep. This was your safe haven, your way of recharging after a hunt.

You could get through anything that came across your path if you went through it together. 

#supernatural #x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #sam winchester #hurt/comfort

[silent-stories]

𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. The only problem is that he hates you and you never understood why.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader 

Warnings: blood, a bit of angst, Dean being an asshole, swearing

Word count: 1420

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Dean hated you. You weren't sure why. You never did anything bad to him. But, as it seemed, he did everything to hurt you. When Sam announced to Dean that you were moving into the bunker he rolled his eyes and just said "really?".

From that moment you knew he didn't like you. At all. And that hurt you more every day. Because you liked him. A lot. You didn't know why he treated you like shit but you saw that it wasn't like that with others. He would die for his family and friends. Hell, he would also have died for strangers, when you hunted he did not hesitate to get hurt to save the lives of people he didn't even know. He was kind to Donna, Jody and the girls, hugging them every time he saw them and making funny jokes.

So you estabilished that the problem had to be you.

After several attempts you stopped making coffee for him in the morning and after a few days you stopped saying "good morning" too. He never thanked you or replied, you didn't see the point of continuing to be nice to him.

So when Sam found a case a few days ago, your heart almost missed a beat. Sam had his arm in a cast for a week now and he couldn't have come with you two. That meant you and Dean, alone, hunting. Together. "I can go alone" announced Dean entering the room.

"You'll get killed, you need y/n."

"Maybe she'll get me killed, Sam. I don't need her." He said before going to get his things ready.

Sam sighed. "I don't know why he behaves like this, I ..."

"It's okay, I'm going pack my things." You said before heading to your room. You had to hold back the tears. He didn't even want to fucking hunt with you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The trip took almost an hour and no one spoke. Not even once. AC/DC have filled the silence between you and Dean all the way. You took the opportunity to reread the news of the people found dead in the small town where you were heading, probably it was a vampire nest.

When you arrived at the first motel you found you almost cheered when the the lady at the reception said that the room you were assigned had two beds.

You couldn't bear to spend the night in the same bed as Dean if the man couldn't even look you in the face for two seconds straight.

About an hour later you walked around the town asking people questions and came to the conclusion that vampires were hiding in an abandoned factory not far from there. Dean always talked to you the bare minimum and you did the same to him. By now you had given up on having a conversation as a normal human being with him.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The vamps were really in the factory, there were only three and you got rid of them easily and in little time. You were walking out of that place that was starting to smell of blood when you heard a noise coming from behind you. Dean quickly pushed you behind him (Dean Winchester, the man who hated you with all his being pushed you behind him?!) and a second later a vampire pushed him against a wall and his nails had dug into the skin of his side.

You had heard the sound of tearing flesh and a scream come out of Dean's mouth. The son of a bitch was the alpha. Despite this he wasn't very smart because he didn't even look at you as he brought his face close to Dean's neck. The vampire's head rolled to the ground seconds later as his body fell on the ground. Like Dean's soon after. You dropped the knife and walked towards to him.

"Hey..." You whispered. "I'm fine." he replied immediately, standing up with one hand on the wall, without accepting your help. After a few steps, however, he fell to his knees holding his bleeding side with one hand, breathing heavily and he had to let you help him.

With his arm on your shoulders you arrived at the impala.

"You're not driving." You said.

"Of course I am." he replied, pulling you away.

"Dean, I don't give a damn if you bleed to death while driving but this time I'm in the car too and I'd rather not crash into a tree." You blurted out coldly, thinking this was probably the biggest lie you've ever told in your entire life but pushed the thought away as quickly as possible.

He threw you the keys and you drived back to your motel room without saying a word.

This time he was the first to approach and put his arm around you as you climb the stairs.

As he sat down on the bed with a grunt you went to find the things you needed to stitch him up in the bathroom.

Going back to him you found him without his t-shirt, the flannel left on the floor. You tried not to stare.

"Can I stitch you up or will you repel me like the plague?"

He just nodded.

Several minutes later you were done, wrapping the wounds with white gauze.

“Guess what? You will survive." You said with fake excitement before you took the kit back to the bathroom.

Returning to the room you sat on your bed with a sigh, before silence fell between you again.

"Thank you" he said a few minutes later.

"Why did you push me behind you?" You asked instead.

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Dean, I know you hate me. You don't give a shit if I get hurt or not."

"Believe me when I tell you that I don't hate you at all."

"So explain Dean, because before you act like a asshole for months and now you suddenly seem to care about me."

He sighed.

"People who get close to me die, y/n. The first time I saw you, the day we met on that hunt, I knew I was screwed. You came and saved my ass and Sam's, you were beautiful also covered in blood and full of scratches and I knew that if I let you get too close to me it would be the end. Charlie died because of me. She wasn't the first and she won't be the last. The people I love die. One after the other. I just knew I didn't want you to be next. "

You stared at him for a moment, in silence.

"You're not an awful company when you're not trying to be an asshole." you said eventually.

"I was expecting you to say something like "go fuck yourself" so it's already more than I expected. Or what I deserve" he replied with a sad laugh.

"Anyway, you don't have to forgive me or stop hating me just because ..." he continued.

"I don't hate you Dean, I've never done that. Not even when I tried hard." You said getting up from your bed to sit next to him. Your shoulders touched lightly.

"You should, I'm an awful person." he whispered looking down.

"Dean, you are one of the best people I have ever met in my entire life, you are funny, kind, you would give your life for the people you care about and ..." Suddenly his hand was on yours.

"Y/n I'm so sorry I acted like an asshole. I'm really so sorry. You don't deserve it. Hell, you made me coffee in the morning, you were always kind and ..."

You kissed him. You really did.

Thinking back at it, you would have never expected it from yourself, but Dean was there, saying he didn't hate you and maybe he liked you too. What were you supposed to do?

When he kissed you back you smiled against his mouth. Neither of you hated the other. Good to know.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You stayed on his bed, lying next to him talking most of the night. When you were getting up to go back to your bed, around 3am, he grabbed your hand, only whispering a sleepy "stay". You curled up next to him and stayed there, enjoying the heat coming from his body. You both fell asleep a few minutes later.

Eventually, even though there were two beds, you didn't even use yours, you thought with a smile the next morning, when you woke up with Dean's arm holding you against his chest.

#dean x reader #dean winchester fic #supernatural fic #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #hurt!dean #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x y/n

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Make it Better

Summary: Y/N is at the end of her rope. Can Dean help her hold on?

Warnings: None really, brief non-explicit descriptions of sex, lots of fluff, hurt!reader (mental/emotional hurt) comforting, soft!dean.

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 1730

A/N: I got this request from my dear friend @deanwinchesterwifesstuff :

Heyyy! Thanks for saying i can ask you a fic! Its kinda simple..i just Seek comfort in dean giving me a princess treatment, so maybe a comfy bath together...cuddling..and all that kinda Stuff..just all about fluff

So, here is what I came up with lovely, and I hope it helps! ❤️

The beautiful divider below and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89

You were just at the end of your rope. You’d been running on empty for days, and you felt more emotionally drained than you could possibly describe. It felt as though everyone around you was pulling out little bits of you, tearing into you with cruel words, and careless attitudes. 

You were just so tired.

You were balled up in your bed, ignoring the world, or trying to, desperate for one day of peace. Your phone kept buzzing but you pretended you didn’t hear it. You knew you should get up at some point and eat something, maybe have a warm bath, read a book? But all of that took energy, and you just didn’t have any more to give.

So you stayed in bed, cocooned in your blanket. 

Some time around ten o’clock there was a knock at your front door, which you also ignored, burrowing deeper into your fluffy duvet. But then you heard his voice.

“Y/N!”

“Dean?” You called out, disbelief clouding your voice as you sat up in bed. 

You were still wrapped up like a burrito as he strode in through your bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, blocking out most of what lay beyond with his wide shoulders and massive frame. His face held an expression of worry and slight annoyance.

“What the hell, Y/N? I’ve been texting and calling for hours, why didn’t you answer? You scared the shit out of me.”

Dean’s frustration with you went straight to your already stomped on heart and without warning noisy tears burst out. You tried to hold back the harsh sobs, embarrassed, but they wouldn’t be contained. Days and weeks of abuse from everyone around you had just taken its toll, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

In seconds Dean was beside you on the bed. “Hey, sweetheart, shh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry, it’s okay.” He pulled you into his side, squeezing you tight through the piles of cotton wrapped around you. You rested your head on his chest and let out all the sadness and hurt you’d been walking around with for too long. 

He just held you, swaying slowly side-to-side as you cried, holding you close and murmuring soft, loving words, most of which you couldn’t hear over your noisy tears, but you felt the comfort in them nonetheless. Finally your tears slowed, and then stopped, and your body shook slightly as you pulled in deep, shuddery breaths. He pulled back so he could look at you, and you knew you must look like an absolute mess.

But he just reached back to your bedside table and grabbed the box of tissues, pulling one out and holding it against your nose. “Blow.” He said, and you felt like a little kid, but you blew your nose and he tossed the tissue in the basket and then used another to dry your cheeks. 

Then he pushed back the “hood” of your blanket so your head emerged, and he combed your hair back off your face with his fingers. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

You shook your head. “It’s too much to talk about.” You shrugged and another tear leaked out of the corner of your eye. 

Dean thumbed it away. “Okay, baby. Then we won’t. For now anyway.”

You sniffled and then frowned at him. “I thought you and Sam were in Oklahoma, hunting down that Wendigo; you said you wouldn’t be back for another week.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, well, we got it quicker than we thought we would. This one had already been injured, so it slowed it down a bit. Then I left Sam there to clean everything up cause I couldn’t get ahold of you.” 

He frowned at you, and you felt bad for causing him to worry. “I’m sorry.” You said softly.

He pushed the blanket off your shoulders, and finally pulled you out from inside it. He set you sideways on his lap and tucked your head under his chin. His big hand moved up and down your arm slowly. “You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart. I’m here now, you’re safe, and I’m gonna make things better, okay?”

You nodded, feeling some of the tension in your body begin to ease already; the bubble of hurt and anxiety that had been squeezing your chest like a vice began to deflate.

“First things first,” Dean said with conviction, “breakfast. Come on.” He squeezed you one last time and you slid out of his lap. 

You followed him into the kitchen and he told you to sit. When you offered to help make the pancakes and bacon he was cooking, he just shook his head. “Nope. My culinary genius needs room to flourish.” He said in a ridiculous french accent that made you giggle lightly. 

As he cooked he told you all about this latest hunt, making you laugh some more in spite of the danger in the situations he described. Dean had a way of finding the humor in almost every situation, and it was one of the traits that you loved most in him.

The food was delicious, as it always was when Dean cooked it; you’d told him many times that he should retire from hunting and open a diner. He cooked comfort food as a way to comfort the people he loved, and make sure they were cared for…another trait of his that you adored. 

After breakfast you showered, and when you came out, Dean had laid out comfy pajamas for you on the bed. You pulled them on and padded out to the living room where he'd lit a bunch of candles, and a fire. The fire warded off the chill in the air, and the candles contrasted sharply with the rainy gray skies outside the window, warming everything with a soft yellow glow. 

He held up three books. “Pick.” He said with a smile.

You chose the romance adventure book, knowing that it would make for the best escape. You snuggled in between Dean’s knees and leaned back against him as he started reading to you. His deep voice was soothing and lent a whole new level of authenticity and realism to the love scenes. You felt your heart begin to beat faster as he read the words. Then it started beating double time as he set the book down, and began to write his own love scene on your skin.

His touch was extremely gentle, unhurried and luxurious. His lips were like silk as he ran them like a whisper down your neck, reaching your pulse point and sucking lightly. You arched your neck so he could reach it easier; your head rested against his shoulder and you let out a soft sigh as he let go and whispered into your ear.

“Bedroom?”

You nodded quickly and he chuckled, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you down the hall to lay you out on the bed. He spent the next couple hours making love to you, worshiping you, praising you. He told you over and over how beautiful you were, how perfect. He rained pleasure down on your body endlessly, finding every sensitive spot you had and leaving no inch of your skin unkissed. 

Afterwards he cleaned you up with warm cloths, and then climbed in behind you, pulling you into his arms, and holding you close while you slept for a few hours. For the first time in days and days, you slept deeply and dreamlessly and when you woke up you felt refreshed, and finally ready to tell him about all the things that had been going wrong in your life over the last while.

He listened attentively, stroking your back, and kissing your forehead when you got choked up in the telling. He didn’t try to offer solutions, he just told you again how perfect you were, and reminded you that you deserved respect and kindness from those around you. He told you that if you wanted, he’d be there with you if and when you wanted to confront the people causing all your pain. 

You smiled up at him, feeling supported and understood, and amazed at what a huge difference that made. You pulled his lips down to yours, which led to another couple hours of pleasure and sleep.

You woke up to the smell of something delicious and cheesy cooking and when you walked into the kitchen you saw Dean pulling a tray of nachos out of the oven, completely smothered in cheese, and you clapped your hands excitedly.

“My favorite!” You practically squealed. 

Dean laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I know, why do you think I made them?”

You enjoyed a candlelit dinner, sharing the plate of stacked nachos, and more fabulous conversation. Now that you were starting to feel better, you laughed and teased him more freely, and the dinner was absolutely perfect. Despite Dean’s protests, you helped him clean up, finding joy in the simple chore as you worked together.

After dinner, Dean drew you a warm bath, with lavender scented bubbles. He made the bath absolutely perfect as he climbed in behind you. He massaged the soft, soapy water into your skin, running his rough hands up and down your arms and back, kneading your muscles and making you moan raggedly. Those moans led to another round of lovemaking and by the time you were falling apart beneath him for the seventh (eighth?) time that day you felt absolutely sublime and tranquil, like you were floating on a cloud.

Dean shifted to lay beside you and you turned towards him, tangling your legs up with his. You relished the feel of his broad chest beneath your cheek, and his strong arms like iron bands of protection around you.

“Thank you.” You whispered over his heart.

He kissed the top of your head and held you a little tighter. “No thank yous needed, sweetheart. I will always be here to remind you how incredible you are, and to remind you that I love you. Always.”

You looked up at him, and he sealed his words with a gentle kiss. “I love you too.” You said and as you snuggled into him you hoped he knew you that you meant it with every breath in your body.

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

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

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

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

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #hurt/comfort #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester smuff

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

"Shut up and let me take care of you"

Have a lil whumpy SPN hurt/comfort fic with Dean x Reader

The wound wasn't that deep. But the werewolf's claws had made a significant slice in your wrist. Disinfecting the wound and putting on antiseptic cream was easy, but you fumbled with the bandage. It was so difficult to wrap your own dominant hand.

"Hey, sweetheart. Watcha doing?"

You looked up to see Dean at the door of your bedroom.

"Oh. Hey. Um, it's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." Dean said, sitting down on the bed beside you. "Let me have a look at that."

You dropped the bandage, and it unravelled across the bed. You held your arm out to Dean, and he grasped it gently and inspected the wound with great care.

"You cleaned it up good. Now let me help you wrap it." He said, reaching for the bandage.

"Oh, look. It's fine. It's not even that bad, besides, I can do it myself, I-"

"Shut up and let me take care of you." Dean grunted.

Stunned, you merely noded.

He grabbed the roll, and with expert hands, perfectly wrapped the bandage around your wrist and hand so that it was neat and firm, but not too firm around the wound. He tucked the end of the bandage in, and them placed your hand down gently on the bed beside you.

"There." He said softly.

"Th- thanks."

And then, his hand slid towards yours. He tucked his thumb between your bandaged palm, and locked his green eyes on yours.

"Hey. I'm glad you're alright."

#whump community #whumpblr #spn fanfic #spn whump #hurt/comfort #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #y/n #medical whump

[sincerelylea]

tw: angst, severe angst

platonic between reader/winchesters, fix me fic. that's all ur getting out of me writing wise for supernatural; fix me fic galore.

sam's hand, lifted by his elbow, raises to wrap against your bedroom door. he can see it now, dean’s disappointment showing evident on his face when he’d inevitably tell him he couldn’t do it or that you refused to answer again. his jaw clenches then releases numerous times - and by god his hand is nearly shaking trying to knock against your door. 

truth is, he’s afraid. afraid of what he might find one day when you don’t answer and he gets brave enough to break down the door. 

you aren’t the same. but he knows no one could after spending a year in flames - a year in the pit. 

a familiar sting of pain rings out in his chest at the thought. sam knew fixing people was impossible; hell he’d tried too many times with dean to know it was. but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t help you pick up your pieces and glue them back together. 

dean’s leg is shaking as he lays back on his bed - that frustrated line in his brow as he thinks over what could be going on a few doors down. he has a sick feeling it isn’t good. that you won’t answer, that you might be dead in there. and he throws himself up from his bed at the thought. 

they’d been where you were - he wanted you to realize that to at least let them in again. he knew you would look down at the handprints on your arms and think about it - hell dean still glances over his shoulder in the shower or when he shaves and thinks about being pulled out by cas. 

but this. this was eating you - he saw you crumble by the day. him and sam both. 

you spent your days curled in bed, eyes fixed on the wall with visions of hell plastered behind your eyelids playing like a film you couldn’t escape. you’d scrub your skin to rid the permanent feeling of slick blood dried on your skin. you’d cover every inch of you if it meant to hide the healing wounds and bruises and scayou’d pull your hair back taught behind headbands and clips and bandanas if it meant you didn’t have to feel your hair touch you like it felt when  you were down there. rs. you changed your body wash and lotion to a scent you didn’t remember. 

but worst of all. you saw it in their faces. saw that look that said they saw you like that. naked and bloody from the pit, following you anywhere, you were puddy in their hands. 

looking at them was a reminder that it was real. you couldn’t escape your brain - you had to live with it. and a burning guilt ate at you besides the constant reliving of it that you were failing them. 

the next morning you showered, pulled your hair back, wiped tears from your eyes and cheeks, and covered your hands with your long sleeve shirt and flannel (stolen from dean’s arsenal he kept) and met them for breakfast. 

it was nerve wracking enough to step out into the world outside of the safe space of your bedroom. shaky handed, watery eyed, your knees almost buckled at the thought of having to do it. 

you villainized the idea of touching someone after you returned - it’d been a week since you saw the insides of hell, and six days since looking at sam or dean. your greatest comfort turned so sour in your mouth - you only yearned to gain that comforting feeling form them again. 

you knew they’d never hurt you,

up here at least. 

when you turn the corner, the skin around your eyes a sickly shade of red and your eyes as well - dean looks like he’d seen a ghost. 

you shuffle out further and clear your throat - sam turns from his spot at the stove. the smell of coffee warms your insides, and you stand at the table and feel small beneath the two set of eyes focused keenly on you. 

at any second you’re waiting on fire to spurt from the table and engulf the room and to be reminded you’re still in hell - but it doesn’t happen. 

dean stands, ditching his coffee and computer. 

your eyes focus on the floor, but for a moment they dart upwards to meet dean’s. he’s got that soft look - melted like butter. the line in his brow is soft, concerned, worried. it’s killing you. his fists clench once by his sides. you decide to keep your eyes on him. 

you remember dean before hell. his metallica and motley crue records - the way he ate his burgers, that one time you sneaked a couple of strips of bacon in one you’d made with him and you thought  he’d pass out right then in there. the way he always smelled woodsy and his working-man-hands were surprisingly kind. the way he’d squeeze your shoulder and force you to tell him that you’d be careful on a hunt. how his hugs felt, how he kissed the crown of your head when you found out your parents were dead. 

you owe something to them. 

“i-i…” you swallow, and bring your hands together to wring them nervously. dean sees the water growing on your lash line and wishes you’d just stop. you don’t need to do this, you don’t have to do this. “i-i know i’ve been… away… since-” you bite the inside of your cheeks. 

“anyway. sorry for not being more active.” every word you say sounds like it’s exasperating; like death could claim you at any second. you look up to sam across the room for only a moment, you decide not to think too much on the look on his face and instead focus back on the floor for a moment before looking back to dean. 

“i’ll be better- i don’t know-” you feel his hands push your shoulders into his arms, meeting his body with a small bit of force. 

it’s all overwhelming for a moment - but nearly immediately your eyes are watered over. he feels like a strong force. there in that moment you couldn’t be taken, you wouldn’t be - not like this. you were back, and human, and they were human, and real, and not figments of hell made to hurt you. this was dean. dean was holding you. 

“i’m here.” he says, a whisper. you wrap your arms tight around his middle, his hand cradles the back of your head, presses you further. 

“i know.” you respond, tearfully. that dam breaks like force, and you’re weeping into his sleep shirt, the tremble of your arms around him has him soothing your hair with his palm. 

“we’re here, sweetheart.” you pull from dean, if anything to look at him and to remember him this way instead of that fearful look he had while sam wrapped a jacket around your battered frame the night they pulled you. 

he braces your forearms first, but his hands are everywhere. he soothes the sides of your face, clearing hair from you and your neck, holding your jaw with care before squeezing your arms again. 

“you don’t owe us an explanation.” sam speaks up. he’s wilted, tired even. his facial hair is growing in a bit, and he looks handsome and a bit aged like you always remembered. 

you nod your head and wipe your face, tightly holding onto dean’s arm for a moment before you turn to sam and begin to walk towards him. “you don’t owe us anything. we want to help you.” sam’s large hand soothes over the top of your head before swiping over your wet cheeks. 

your mouth is downturned, you fall into his hold. his cheeks leans into the top of your head, hand running over your back. 

you remember sam before hell. he always smelled warm, and he always was. his embrace, his hands, his voice. he was gentle - always the one to care and ask and plead. you remember the way his face lit up on christmas when you got him a tolkien book set and an audible subscription. he hugged you with tissue paper still in his hands. you remember the way he was always patient at patching you up after hunts and how he’d always share his bed if you had a nightmare. 

when you part, sam has that look in his eyes like he’s asking for permission. his hands are focused on your sleeves, fingers tucked into the edges waiting for your okay. dean’s coming up behind you when you nod, feeling the gentle way he braces your forearm with his opposite hand as he pulls up your sleeves to reveal the litters of scars and wounds and bruises - not only that, but the healed over handprints conquering your skin. 

sam’s hand wraps around your forearm just over the grip of the handprint on your left arm, dean’s smooths over the one on your right. 

“we’d never stop fighting for you, kid.” dean reminds from your right. you look up to him and nod. 

“i’ll never stop fighting for you guys either.” 

~

the bath water was pink. though the water was warm you were shaking in the tub. your wounds ached at the feeling of water in them, muscles relaxed in the warmth yet you’re still on high alert that it isn’t over. 

dean pours water over the back of your hair, sam gently rubs off dirt from your nails. 

your eyes are focused clear on the wall in front of you. 

“it’ll be okay.”                  

#sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #winchesters x reader #winchester brothers x reader #platonic winchesters x reader #sam winchester x you #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural comfort #supernatural hurt comfort #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #sam winchester comfort #dean winchester comfort #sam winchester angst #dean winchester angst

[waynes-multiverse]

Everything I Wanted

Summary: For once, Dean Winchester had everything he ever wanted and was convinced he’d found a glitch in the matrix of bad luck and heartbreak – until his dream turned into a nightmare. Alternate ending to On The Beach.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (past)

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, hurt, death, mentions of a disease, no happy ending

Word Count: 1.1k (painfully curated words you wish I never wrote)

A/N: In hindsight, I’m really glad I didn’t put this into the OG fic, but this is for the ones that love to be tormented with that twinge of pain... 🖤 Inspired by everything i wanted by Billie Eilish. Listen to that song and watch the video for another layer of heartbreak.

Feedback is writer’s fuel, so make sure to fill my tank. Thank you!

Dean Winchester Masterlist || Main Masterlist

It’s cold and dark. There is no moon, no stars in the black and bleak night sky. He can sniff the below-zero temperature in the air, in the wind that howls around him, but he can’t feel it stinging, can’t feel the harsh needle pricks of idle winter. There’s no amount of physical pain that could bother him, not anymore, no awakening jolt that could compete with the ache in his chest – until that last human affliction went away as well.

His skin, his bones, his heart – it’s all numb, lifeless and empty like the body he’s burning on the pyre.

Flakes fall around him, coming down like the snow he has watched so many times on this beach before, hand holding hers in a vice-like grip, hoping the knot is tied firmly enough to keep her boat from floating away from his shore. Anchored to each other forever.

This time, however, the snowflakes are not white flickers of hope. They don’t announce a new beginning, no lighthouse shining its beam to guide her back to him. There is no happy ending in sight. This time, it’s a gray swirl of ash, a storm of forlornness. Death and doldrums.

She came like a dream, a flame that melted the pricking ice, which had slowly crawled through his red-blooded veins and festered in his heart over decades – years of torture, travail, and torment. But she was magic, the truest and purest form he’d ever witnessed. She cast a smile on his face without even trying, and boy, whenever she did try, he was deep in trouble – the good kind and never the bad.

For a moment, the usually unkind stars in the universe aligned. For once, he got everything he ever wanted. A small and cozy house he called a home, a love that warmed his blood and soul, and a tomorrow he was excited to see and experience. Two fated hearts found each other and connected in an impossibly cold world, an invisible string tying them together for eternity, defying improbable odds like defying gravity. No pair of scissors, no knife, no cruel weapon of life could’ve snapped that bond. He thoroughly ensured the knot was tethered firmly. God, he swears he did…

“You know, when I wake up, all I see is you with me,” Dean whispers in the dark as they lie face to face on fluffy clouds of pillows, a reluctant smile twitching on his lips as he softly brushes a few rogue strands of hair behind her ear.

Y/N mirrors his smile and catches his lips in an ever-lasting and reaffirming kiss as she nuzzles impossibly closer. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing. You’re a daydream, Winchester.”

He playfully rolls his green eyes, orbs sparkling with flustered love. “Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Her teeth sink mischievously into her bottom lip as she shakes her head, giggling. “Never.”

The hunter can’t help but snort at her teasing, his heart warming so much that it’s competing with the burning furnace in the bedroom as the annual winter blizzard ravages outside the bay window. “You know, sometimes I’m not sure I even deserve you…”

“You do,” she tells him without a quiver of hesitation. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. If you did, you wouldn’t wonder for a second why you’re here with me.”

He swallows the anxious lump in his dried throat, a constant reminder that the happiness, the love – it all could be fleeting, disappear and disintegrate with the inhumane snap of someone’s fingers. Gone and dusted in a blink of a distracted eye.

“As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you, sweetheart,” he assures her and, most of all, himself, calloused and beaten fingers caressing her soft and rosy cheek before he locks his promise with a searing kiss that vows to tear worlds apart if someone dares to challenge it.  

She left like a nightmare. It wasn’t a monster, a demon, or a force of evil that took her. It wasn’t something or someone he could fight. There was nothing and no one he could blame, not even himself. There was no weapon, no spell, and no miracle that could save her. There was no potion that could cure her.

It started with harmless coughs, a common winter cold, which suddenly morphed into terrifying sounds and formidable scarlet stains on white tissues during one unsuspecting movie night in front of the fireplace – a calm and quiet night like any other. Soon, however, the calmness and peace were things of the past. All there was left then were only endless scans and prolonged hospital stays and hopeless statistics and experimental medications and helpless attempts to find a way where there was none and silent prayers of desperation in sterile chapels.

No one could ever hear him, though, no matter how loudly he screamed for help. His head was underwater, pleas echoing in empty vastness as his heart capsized and sunk to the bottom of the deepest, darkest sea. His lungs filled with salt water with each despondent breath he took. His flailing arms grew tired the more he struggled against the current, trying to swim back to the surface, trying to pull himself ashore and rescue her with him. He tried till there was nothing left but drowning.

And then, one morning, when the sunbeams filtered through the slats of the bay window like a cosmic joke, his lost emeralds fluttered open and couldn’t see her anymore. All they found was an empty space on the mattress, a cold side of the bed, and an untouched pillow without a head resting upon it.

Y/N wasn’t with him any longer, the knot loose and the string broken.

As the fire burns down and the last flame flickers to stay alive, his knees become so weak he relinquishes the remainder of his strength and sinks into the cold sand, his boots flooding with ocean water as he wishes he could get swallowed by the waves.

“Dean, it’s time,” Sam’s voice tears through the numbness before the green-eyed hunter feels the warmth of small arms around his neck and press against his back.

“I’m still here, Daddy,” his four-year-old daughter reminds him in a soft whisper, and Dean knows then and there that he has to keep fighting. He made a promise.

See? It’s like a partially happy ending... Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m an asshole. Love you guys 😘 *hands out tissues*

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali​ @this-is-me19​ @writercole​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @eevvvaa​ @panicking-outside-the-disco​ @globetrotter28​ @imherefordeanandbones​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ @xlynnbbyx​ @jassackles​ @maggiegirl17​ @perpetualabsurdity​ @deans-spinster-witch​ @deandreamernp​ @foxyjwls007​ @roseblue373​​ @lyarr24​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @deanwithscissors​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​​ @akshi8278​​ @flamencodiva​​ @chriszgirl92​​ @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul​​ @djs8891​​ @leigh70​​ @snowlovespie​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78​​ @muhahaha303​​ @mimaria420​​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​​ @hobby27​​ @fromcaintodean​​

#dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester angst #dean winchester hurt #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 27

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

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Shit’s a bit tense....

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

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

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

Y/N took a deep breath as she trudged her way through the kitchen and into the utility room where there had been an air mattress set up for Dean and herself. Her hands were shaking, and she was more than a little sick to her stomach. Of all the shit they would have their first fight about, it would be this, and on the weekend that they were due to go and meet his nephew. 

She wasn’t ignorant that some of this WAS her fault. She could have at least mentioned the fact that she was on birth control. It wasn’t like Dean was with her every waking second of the day anymore; in hindsight it would have been something very easy to miss. She just didn’t think about telling him, it wasn’t like it was something she was hiding from him. It was just legitimately something that didn’t cross her mind. She was more of a caretaker than girlfriend for so long. Sex wasn’t something that was the primary focus. When it did happen, and the progressive year to come, she was caught up in life. She was focused on fixing the house, getting Dean’s shop all lined up. It wasn’t something that even crossed her mind, and she felt more than a little horrible that she didn’t think about the fact that it had crossed his. 

She also knew that the silent treatment that she’d been giving him all day was probably also a mistake. She let her own anger at him and her emotions get the better of her. She let hurt do the talking, or lack thereof; instead of opening up to him, accepting his apology, and working together to move past this like she should have. Now, she was afraid she’d hurt him even worse. 

When she finally got the nerve up to sit down in the room that was their makeshift bedroom, she found Dean, laying on his back, fists balled up, eyes shut tight, and jaw set firmly. 

Slowly, Y/N made her way over to the air mattress, and sank down on it, careful not to jostle him, because he looked more than a little uncomfortable. “Dean?” she ventured, and even though she barely said his name above a whisper, his green orbs shot open like someone had fired a gun at him, and he turned to face her like he was shocked she spoke to him at all. “Are you okay?” 

Dean’s eyes closed tightly again, and a single tear rolled down his face. “Not really,” he admitted, and she had to fight against the ‘caregiver flight or fight instinct’ that screamed for her to rip him up, panic, and take him to the nearest hospital. “My back is killing me, and I just want to go home.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Y/N questioned, still worried because of the tumble he took earlier that day. It was as if she had to ask or she might burst. Dean just shook his head without opening his eyes or even bothering to look in her direction, which she found concerning. Usually, he would do that when he didn’t want her to know just how badly he was hurting. 

“No,” he said after a while. “I just… this mattress and laying on the floor isn’t as easy as it used to be before the accident. Once the pain pills kick in,  and I get some sleep, I’ll be fine.”

Everything, every fiber in her being, wanted to gather  him up off of that floor, load him up in Baby, and take him to a hotel where he could at least lay down in a bed. It never crossed her mind that he wouldn’t be able to do this anymore. They’d all slept in some pretty strange places while hunting. An air mattress would have been like a fucking California King pillowtop for him at one point; but now, after his injuries, his body was different, and things didn’t come as easy as they used too, but he kept it hidden so well, that it was easy to forget. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted suddenly, his voice strained as he attempted to make himself a little more comfortable. “I don’t know how else to say it, or what to say to make what I said to you any better, other than I’m really sorry. I was wrong. I already told you all of that. But judging by the silent treatment you’ve given me all day, and the fact that you’re only talking to me now because you can tell I’m uncomfortable, tells me you’re still mad at me, and I don’t know how to fix it, but I’m trying.”

“It’s not just you Dean, it’s me too. I should have talked to you. Hell, I should have said something to you a year ago. We’re both at fault. Neither of us reacted the way we should have, neither of us communicated the way we should have. It was both our fault, and it wasn’t fair for me to shut you out the way I did.”

Dean shifted again, still uncomfortable, and she wished she could just fix it for him. Just take all the pain and discomfort away. 

“Do you want too… you know… try to have a kid with me?” Dean questioned, keeping his gaze focused on the blanket in his balled-up fist. She could almost feel the tension in the room suddenly escalate to an alarming rate. “I mean, I would totally understand if you don’t. I wouldn’t be upset or anything.”

That was a lie, Y/N could tell by how tense he was that this was something his heart was set on. Still, ever true to his own destructive nature, the man would swallow whatever it was he wanted as long as others around him were happy. Always with the self-sacrificing of his own happiness. 

“I wouldn’t mind it. I’ve never really thought about it honestly. The life we lived up until now… it really didn’t ever cross my mind that this could be possible. But now? We’re stable. All of heaven and hell aren’t after our asses. Things are going pretty good. So why not? I could totally get used to a little Dean Winchester running around.”

Dean sat himself up slightly, giving up completely on trying to get comfortable and finally met her gaze. She could see it now. The tiredness, the tension in his broad shoulders. The way he almost seemed like a dog that had been kicked too often as he stared back at her with almost doe like eyes. Like a deer caught in headlights that she even agreed to try and have a child with him. 

It really made her sick to think that so often and for so long Dean had given up on the things he deserved in life; a home, a job, a family of his own, that he thought he deserved to not have those things. So it totally takes him by surprise to even think that someone would want to have them with him, and want all good things for him, instead of what they can use him for, and what he can do for them. 

“Really?” he questioned. “Do you really mean that or are you just saying that on my account? Because if you don’t really want this with me- I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Dean Winchester,” Y/N sighed in aspiration. “You of all people should know by now that if I don’t want to do something, there’s no force in hell or earth that can make me do it. You aren’t twisting my arm to do anything that I don’t want to do. I WANT a family with you Dean. There’s nothing attached to that. No hidden agendas. It’s the truth. If you want to try, I’m down with whatever happens. If it’s not meant to be, and we never have a baby, that’s fine. If we do, great. But I would love to start a family with you. White picket fence, we already have the dog and the house. Soccer games and school functions. The whole bit. I’ll be a total suburban mom. Minivan and all.”

Dean smiled in spite of himself. 

“You know I could totally see you rocking the whole minivan thing,” Dean chuckled softly. 

Then just as quickly as it started, the moment faded, and he was looking off into the distance with a strange look on his face. She wondered what it was he was seeing, what it was that had suddenly popped up to bother him all at once like that, and every time he did something like this, it sent her anxiety through the ceiling. Like it or not, there were some monsters she couldn’t chase away, and those were usually the ones that reared their ugly head from his past. 

Y/N reached for his hand, uncurling it with surprisingly little resistance judging by the death grip he still had on the comforter. 

“Hey,” she said, grabbing his attention. “Next time, let’s talk about things like this with one another, instead of avoiding it and ending up in a fight. I hate fighting with you Dean. I really, really do. More than anything, I don’t want to see you hurt over something that could have been easily fixed over a conversation. Again, I take half the blame for this one, but please, next time, talk to me.”

“Okay,” Dean agreed with a heavy sigh, before turning and looking back at the pile of pillows behind him. 

“Are you gonna be able to do this?” Y/N questioned with a nod towards his pillow pile. Dean’s lips formed a thin line and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I really don’t know. I’m trying. I am. I don’t want to hurt their feelings or anything. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen earlier it wouldn’t be this bad, but fuck if this isn’t kicking my ass just sitting here right now.”

Y/N’s lips tightened as she tried to come up with anything, anything at all to make this easier for Dean. But really, there was  only one solution, and that was get up and go get a hotel. She knew good and damn well that she wasn’t going to be able to get him to agree to that. 

“Why don’t you try going and laying down on the couch?” Y/N suggested after a moment. “Everyone else has gone to bed already, so it’s quiet in there.”

“Yeah, but Sam’s ass is gonna be up at like, four in the fucking morning to go jogging like a moron,” Dean countered, and Y/N had to admit that he wasn’t wrong there. 

“Fuck,” Dean grumbled into his hands, she noticed they were shaking when he brought them up to his face, and that sent a spark of concern through her chest. She’d been taking care of him for over a year before things really morphed into a relationship. She knew his tells. He was in pain, yet he was downplaying it. 

“How long has it been since you took the medication?” Y/N questioned, getting up to riffle around in the duffle bag on the floor opposite of him. 

“Bout forty minutes ago,” Dean’s muffled voice answered from behind his hands. “I’ll be fine baby, lay down and get some sleep. Pain is something I’m well acquainted with.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened so fast her teeth audibly clicked together, and Dean slowly lowered his hands from his face, the look of a man that knows he fucked up;  just like that, what little bit of annoyance she had left in her towards him and how he acted faded away. 

Dean had made a lot of progress over the time they were together. He was more open than he’d ever been. He’d made a lot of emotional changes and boundaries were crossed. Things he let go of and opened up weren’t easy at all to let go of. Still, Dean was Dean, and he had some things that were always gonna fight him. The ability to admit when he wasn’t feeling well, or needed help, well, that was just something she would always have to fight with him on. 

It was just his ‘MO’, his go too.

“It should have kicked in by now,” Y/N voiced aloud as she sat back down in front of him, Dean was doing all he could to pretend to be very interested in picking at the blanket in his hand, avoiding her gaze. 

“Did the pain start when you fell earlier?” Y/N questioned, and Dean shook his head no. 

“Bout three hours before we got here,” he admitted, and honestly, he could have reared back and took a swing at her face and it would have hurt less that the absolute mental kick she gave herself for shutting down on him. He needed her, and he felt like she was giving him the cold shoulder and he couldn’t talk to her, so he pushed himself too hard. 

This felt very much like her fault all of the sudden. 

“Dean, you should have woken me up,” she said, but Dean didn’t look at her, just sniffed heavily through his nose. 

“I shouldn’t have had to wake you up; I should have been able to do something as simple as drive a goddamn car.”

“Dean—”

“Hey,” Sam’s voice cut her off from behind her before Y/N could get anything out to rebuttal him, and fuck if she didn’t want to murder him right there on the spot,be cause as soon as Dean  heard his brother’s voice, he straightened up, and cleared his face as if nothing was wrong at all. She’d never seen a wall go up that fucking fast. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean lied, clearing his throat as he forced himself back onto the pile of pillows behind him. “I just over did it a little bit today. I’ll be okay.”

The look on Sam’s face read every bit of bullshit. Y/N was pretty sure that her face screamed the truth Dean was trying to cover up, and that had a lot to do with his disbelief.

“Liar,” Sam challenged. “What’s wrong dude, spill.”

Dean signed heavily and rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“My back hurts,” Dean said simply. “This is nothing new. My back usually always hurts. It’s a little worse today because I slipped when I got out of the car. It’s not some emergency. I’m not gonna die from it. I’ll be fine.”

Y/N watched as Sam’s eyes traveled to the air mattress that they were sitting on. Sam was no idiot. It didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that this air mattress really wasn’t helping him at all. 

“I can call around and get you guys a room,” Sam offered sincerely. “I didn’t even think about the air mattress being on the floor and—”

Dean held up his hand to stop his baby brother’s worrying. Sam made a face, but didn’t argue with Dean either. 

“It’s okay,” Dean assured him. “I will take something else to help with the discomfort, and I’ll eventually go to sleep. I’m sure I'll be fine in the morning. Eileen has all kinds of shit she wants to do as a ‘family’ tomorrow, and I’m not going to let my discomfort ruin that for anyone. Now, back to bed before she sends out a search party for that bottle you're holding.”

Sam looked down at the milk bottle that he was still clutching in his hand, and nearly jumped when he realized that Eileen probably was still waiting for it, and he’d gotten distracted along the way. 

“Y/N, if he doesn’t get any better come get me, and we will work something out,” Sam insisted, and Y/N nodded as she watched Sam’s hair bounce as he retreated back to his room. 

“You should have told him the truth and let him rent the room,” Y/N insisted, but Dean barely blinked as he stared out of the door his brother had just disappeared from. 

“I did tell the truth,” Dean admitted. “It’s not the first time I’ve had pain like this over the years I’ve been recovering, it won't be the last; there’s no reason to freak out, and I definitely don’t want them to have to rent a room in the middle of the night for me. I’ll be okay.”

This was not a battle Y/N was gonna win, she knew that. You could set the man on fire and he’d tell you it tickled. She felt like some of this was absolutely her fault. That in just a matter of 48 hours, the trust she built with him was broken, and she was partially to blame for that. 

Was Dean wrong for yelling and blaming her for not telling him that she was on birth control? Yes. 

Did that warrant her the right to give him the silent treatment after he apologized? No. 

Did her hurt feelings become invalid because he apologized? Hell no. Still, that didn’t mean she had to totally shut him out, when she knew Dean well enough to know that doing something like that could or might trigger this behavior, and that she should have handled this a lot differently. 

Apparently Dean wasn’t the only one in the room with communication issues. 

Without a word, Y/N moved behind him as Dean sat up again to try and adjust himself. Seating herself behind him with her legs spread out on either side of his trim waist, and Dean turned slightly to look at her with a questioning gaze. 

“Lean back,” she insisted, and he did, albeit, very slowly. 

“What are you doing?” He questioned again, refusing to relax even when she pulled him against her, and wrapped her arms around him. 

“Just relax,” she said. 

It took a minute of deep breathing, but finally, Dean leaned his head back to rest against her shoulder, and closed his eyes. The tense muscles in his body gave way, and he loosed up enough to rest his weight against her. Which was something she didn’t mind at all, in fact, she always found it comforting. 

“Does this position help any?” she asked once silence fell heavily again in the room, and Dean nodded, refusing to speak. 

“Then get some sleep, and in the morning, after we’re done with the shit Eileen has planned, I’m going to drive us either to a hotel, or back home.”

Dean took a deep breath, stress once again setting in his tight jaw. 

“No, I’m sure after tonight I’ll be fine,” Dean insisted. “I just over did it today, once I get some sleep, everything will be okay. I promise. I don’t want to ruin this for them. This is a big deal for them, and they’re doing the best they physically can with what they have. I’m gonna be just fine.”

“Okay,” Y/N relented, knowing once Dean had his mind made up about something, there was no changing it. She just hoped that he was right, and after a night’s sleep, he’d be okay again for the rest of the trip. “But I’m doing some of the driving home. Cause we’re not gonna let you over do it again, and if we have to, we will stop and get a hotel so that you can rest in between.”

Dean nodded, and this time he didn’t argue with her. 

“And… even though I’m not going to take anymore birth control, it might take almost a month to get out of my system, maybe longer, I’ve been on it a long time. In fact, when we get home, I’m going to make an appointment with my doctor to get myself checked out, just to make sure that I’m physically okay, and we’re all set to go.”

She felt the tension return to Dean’s shoulders, stress was almost radiating throughout his body, and she immediately kicked herself for shutting him out all day, because she just knew that it was going to take him forever to open up to her again about it all. 

“It’s okay Dean, nothing is wrong,” she insisted to try and calm his fears. “It’s just the smart thing to do, that way you’re prepared for anything that MIGHT pop up. It’s just a precaution.”

Dean swallowed thickly, before forcing himself to relax again. “Let’s just get through tonight,” he voiced after a while. “Once we get home we can figure the rest out, okay?”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, then started to run her fingers through his hair, absently humming Hey Jude until he finally started to drift off to sleep. 

It was easy to forget that even though Dean was a man, and was bullheaded on a lot of things. He got scared and needed reassurance too. This was still a learning curve for them both, but a lesson learned. From now on, she was going to make sure he was okay, just as she expected him to make sure she was okay. Relationships are a give and take thing, especially when you’ve been through as much trauma as the pair of them had.

Forever:

@bubsonnobx​​​​​​

@britnwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​​​​​​​​​​​​

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

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@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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@captainsoldiergirl​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@impalaslytherin​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@akshi8278​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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@herstarburststories​​​

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@jxackles

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@shawnie74​​​​​​​​​​​​​  

@kaz11283​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@mlovesstories​​​​​​​​​​​​​

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej​

#Carry On #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #hurt!dean winchester #hurt!dean winchester series #hurt!dean winchester x reader #hurt!dean winchester x you #hurt!dean winchester x y/n #hurt!dean x reader #hurt!dean x y/n #hurt!dean x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #jawritter #jensen ackles

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Dean is back and no longer a demon. But with all the emotions he has to deal with now, he would rather die.

This is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Mention of rape, Language, Angst, Hurt

Word Count: 5518

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the hours stretched on, the pain seemed to deepen, sinking into your bones and settling in your soul. At first, you lay on the floor, tears flowing freely as you grappled with the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you.

But as time passed, a numbness set in, dulling the sharp edges of your agony and enveloping you in a cold, empty void. You lay there, lost in the darkness of your own thoughts, the weight of your suffering pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

After hours and with trembling limbs and tears streaming down your face, you forced yourself to your feet, the pain in your broken wrists and ribs a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

With each step, you felt the weight of your pain bearing down on you, threatening to crush you beneath its unbearable burden.

You made your way towards the bathroom, each movement filled with agony.

As you sank into the warm embrace of the bathtub, the water enveloped you like a soothing balm, offering a brief respite from the relentless ache that gripped your body. But even as the comforting embrace of the water washed over you, the pain remained.

Your wrists throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, the broken bones protesting with every movement. Each breath sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through your ribs, the fractured bones protesting against the strain of simply existing. And between your legs, your pussy throbbed with a raw, tender soreness, a painful reminder of Dean's brutal assault.

As you lay there, staring blankly at the water stained crimson with your own blood, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness wash over you. It wasn't just your body that bore the scars of Dean's cruelty, but your heart and soul as well.

Your face bore the imprint of his violence, your Skin bruised and swollen. And beneath the water, your bruised buttocks throbbed with pain, the memory of his forceful kneel still fresh in your mind.

As Sam and Cas returned to the bunker, a sense of urgency filled the air. Sam's heart raced with fear as he noticed the dried blood staining the kitchen floor, his mind racing with dread at the thought of what could have happened to you. Without hesitation, he began knocking frantically on the bathroom door, calling out your name with increasing desperation.

"Y/N, open up!", Sam's voice was filled with concern and panic as he pounded on the door, his hands trembling with fear. "Please, we need to make sure you're okay!".

But there was no response, only silence echoing back at him from the other side of the door. His heart sank as he exchanged a worried glance with Cas, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

"Cas, we need to get this door open", Sam urged, his voice laced with urgency as he turned to his angelic friend for help. "Something's not right. I can feel it".

With a determined nod, Cas focused his powers, channeling his energy into the door with a burst of light. In an instant, the lock clicked open, and Sam pushed the door open with a sense of dread gnawing at his insides.

But as he stepped inside, what he saw took his breath away. There you were, lying motionless in the bathtub, surrounded by water tinged with the faint traces of blood. Sam's heart clenched with fear as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you.

"Y/N, can you hear me?", Sam's voice was thick with emotion as he gently shook your shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. "Please, say something. Anything".

But you remained silent, your eyes vacant and distant as you stared blankly ahead. Sam's heart sank as he realized the depth of your pain.

As Sam pleaded with Cas to heal you, desperation crept into his voice, his eyes pleading with the angel for help. But despite Cas's best efforts, his healing powers seemed ineffective against the depth of your injuries. You looked terrible, completely broken, your body bearing the physical and emotional scars of Dean's cruelty.

Gently, Sam scooped you up in his arms, wrapping a towel around you with Cas's help, mindful of your fragile state.

As he held you close, he could feel the weight of your pain pressing against him. With each sob that wracked your body, his heart broke a little more, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

"You're safe now, Y/N", Sam murmured softly.

With each step, each movement, you cried out in pain, your broken body unable to withstand even the slightest touch.

Again Cas tried to heal you. His touch enveloped your broken body, his powers surging forth with a gentle glow. With a focused determination, he began to mend the shattered bones in your wrists and ribs, his efforts slowly easing the physical pain that wracked your body.

As the warmth of his healing magic spread through you, you felt a glimmer of relief wash over you, the sharp edges of your agony blunted by his divine intervention. But even as your physical wounds began to heal, the scars that marred your soul remained untouched, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed you.

With a heavy heart, Cas realized the limitations of his power. Despite his best efforts, he could mend your broken bones, but the wounds that lay within you ran far deeper than he could reach.

"I've done what I can for your injuries", Cas murmured softly, his voice filled with regret as he regarded you with a solemn gaze. "But healing your soul… that will take time".

Sam's heart ached as he watched you, his own eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. He longed

Three long weeks passed before you found the strength to speak again, the weight of your silence bearing down on you like a heavy burden. With trembling lips, you finally opened up to Sam, your voice barely above a whisper as you recounted the horrors that Dean had inflicted upon you.

"I… I couldn't stop him", you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your suffering. "Dean… he… he hurt me, Sam. He hurt me in ways I can't even begin to describe".

Sam's eyes filled with tears as he listened to your words, his heart breaking with each revelation. He reached out to you, his hand offering silent support as you continued to speak, recounting the brutality of Dean's actions with a raw honesty that left him reeling.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N", Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I never thought Dean could… could do something like that".

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the reality of what had happened. "I… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him", you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at him the same way again".

From that moment on, everything changed. The lightness and laughter that had once filled the bunker were replaced by a heavy silence, the weight of your pain casting a shadow over everything you did. Even the thought of Dean filled you with a sense of dread and betrayal, and you found yourself withdrawing further and further into yourself, your hope for redemption slipping away with each passing day.

Six months had passed since Sam had succeeded in healing Dean from the darkness of his demonhood. As Sam carefully uncuffed him in the dimly lit basement, a sense of trepidation hung heavy in the air. Dean’s first question, as the shackles fell away, was for you.

“Where is she?”, Dean’s voice was filled with a mixture of concern and longing as he scanned the room, searching for any sign of your presence. But Sam’s expression remained firm, his resolve unyielding as he stood between Dean and the truth.

“Not now, Dean”, Sam replied gently, his voice tinged with sadness. “She’s… she’s not ready to see you yet”.

Dean's heart sank at Sam's words, a heavy weight settling in his chest at the thought of your absence. "I understand", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I'm not sure I'm ready to see her either. Not after what I did".

Sam's gaze softened with empathy as he looked at his brother, understanding the depth of Dean's guilt and remorse. "She's been struggling, Dean", he explained gently, his voice filled with concern. "It hasn't been easy for her these past six months. She's… she's hurt".

Dean's jaw tightened as he listened to Sam's words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "I know", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all my fault".

Sam reached out, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Dean", he reassured him, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But it's going to take time. It's going to take a lot of work to earn back her trust".

As you entered your room, after a few days at Jodie´s, the familiar scent of Dean enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a scent you had once found comforting, a reminder of the love and connection you shared with him. But now, it filled you with a sense of unease, dredging up painful memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

Unaware that Dean was back and healed, you began to unpack your belongings, your mind drifting back to the last time you had been in this room together. The memory of his touch, his laughter, and the warmth of his embrace lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost.

Little did you know, Dean had been there just moments before, his presence lingering like a ghost in the room. He had come seeking solace in the familiar surroundings, hoping to feel some connection to you.

But as you moved about the room, your senses tingling with the weight of his presence, a sense of foreboding washed over you. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating you with the memories of a love that had turned sour.

And as you stood there, frozen in place, the realization slowly dawned on you—Dean was back. He was here, in this room, just minutes ago, his presence a haunting reminder of the pain and betrayal you had endured.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to come to terms with the truth, the weight of his absence and his return crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You knew that facing him again would reopen wounds, dredging up emotions you had spent months trying to suppress.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, Sam found you frozen in the room, your emotions palpable in the air around you. Concern etched deep lines into Sam's face as he approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

"We need to talk", Sam said gently, his voice filled with compassion as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You turned to face him, your expression a mixture of anguish and resignation. "I already know", you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he moved closer, his hand lingering on your arm. "Y/N, I know this is hard, but you can't just run away from this", he urged softly, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding.

But you were already moving towards the door, your mind clouded with pain and uncertainty. "I can't do this, Sam", you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. "I can't face him again, not after everything that's happened".

Sam's grip tightened on your arm, his expression filled with determination. "You don't have to face him alone", he insisted, his voice unwavering. "I'll be there with you, every step of the way".

For a moment, you hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the need to confront the truth. But in the end, it was Sam's unwavering support that gave you the strength to stay.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound you together.

As the days passed, the weight of Dean's presence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the turmoil that engulfed your life. Despite Sam's assurances, you couldn't bring yourself to face him, the fear and uncertainty gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast.

Each night, you lay awake in bed, listening to the echoes of Dean's screams as he wrestled with his nightmares. His tortured cries pierced the silence of the night, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty corridors of the bunker.

And during the day, you remained holed up in your room, barricaded behind closed doors as you sought refuge from the chaos that threatened to consume you. The sound of Dean's footsteps outside your door sent shivers down your spine, the fear of his presence paralyzing you with its intensity.

Sleep became a distant memory, your mind plagued by a never-ending carousel of worries and anxieties. Dark circles formed beneath your eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights and endless torment that plagued your every waking moment.

In the kitchen, your hands trembled as you reached for another cup of coffee, the bitter taste a poor substitute for the comfort you so desperately craved.

Cas found you in the kitchen, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he took in your tired and worn appearance.

"Y/N, you look exhausted", he remarked softly, his blue eyes filled with worry. "Have you been sleeping at all?".

You shook your head, the weariness weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Not much", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's been hard to find any peace, especially with him back".

Cas nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine", he replied gently. "But you can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy".

Tears welled in your eyes as you confessed your fear. "I'm afraid to sleep", you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear Dean's screams and footsteps outside my door. I can't bear the thought of facing him again".

"I can stay with you while you sleep, if that would help".

Your heart swelled with gratitude at his offer, a sense of relief washing over you like a wave. "Thank you, Cas", you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you".

A few hours later, the sound of the bunker door opening signaled the return of Sam and Dean from their hunt. Sam's footsteps echoed through the corridors as he made his way through the bunker, his expression a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

"Hey, Cas, you here?", Sam called out, his voice carrying down the hallway.

Cas emerged from your room, his gaze meeting Sam's as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. "Sam", he greeted quietly, his tone somber.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he took in Cas's grave expression. "What's going on?", he asked.

Cas hesitated for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "Y/N hasn't been sleeping well", he explained, his gaze drifting back to your sleeping form on the bed.

Sam's glanced into the room, his heart sinking at the sight of you curled up on the bed, your face drawn and pale in the soft light.

"What do you mean?", Sam asked, his voice filled with worry.

Cas sighed. "She's been afraid to sleep", he admitted quietly. "So I offered to stay with her while she rests".

"Thank you, Cas", he said sincerely, gratitude evident in his voice. "I'll take over from here".

And as Cas nodded in acknowledgment, Sam stepped into the room, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form with a mixture of concern and tenderness. With Cas's help, he would ensure that you found the peace and rest you so desperately needed.

As Sam and Cas remained in your room, their voices barely above a whisper as they discussed your condition, Dean found himself drawn to the doorway like a moth to a flame. Despite Sam's explicit instructions to stay away, he couldn't resist the urge to see you, to reassure himself that you were okay.

With each hesitant step, Dean's heart pounded in his chest, his footsteps silent on the floor as he approached the room where you lay sleeping. He knew he shouldn't be here, knew he was risking Sam's wrath by defying his orders, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

As he reached the doorway, Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. You lay on the bed, your breathing slow and steady, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, Dean was transfixed by the sight of you, his heart aching with longing and regret.

But even as he stood there, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the pain he had caused you, of the darkness that still lingered within him. He knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness, didn't deserve to be anywhere near you after what he had done.

As Dean turned to leave the room, Sam’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”, Sam’s tone was sharp, his eyes flashing with anger as he confronted his brother in the hallway.

Dean froze in his tracks, his heart sinking at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“I just… I needed to see her, Sammy”, Dean replied, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. “I needed to know she was okay”.

"I get that, Dean", Sam said, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration. "But she needs space, especially from you".

Dean nodded, a mix of shame and understanding evident in his eyes. "I know, Sam. I fucking screwed up", he admitted, his voice tight with emotion. "I just… I can't stand the thought of her being in pain and not being able to do anything about it".

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he tried to find the right words. "I know you care about her, Dean", he said gently. "But right now, what she needs most is for you to respect her boundaries. Give her the space she needs to heal".

Dean swallowed hard, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. "I will, Sam. I promise", he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod, Sam gestured for Dean to follow him away from the room. As they walked down the hallway together, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his heart.

One week later, Sam and Dean sat in the library, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. They had been discussing Dean's time as a demon, the darkness that had consumed him, and the pain he had inflicted on those he cared about.

After a long silence, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace, Dean spoke up, his voice choked with tears. "I can't do this", he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. "I can't live with what I've done to her".

Sam's heart sank at the despair in his brother's voice, the anguish written plainly on his face. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Dean's shoulder, offering what little comfort he could.

"I know it's hard, Dean", Sam said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. "But you can't give up. You have to find a way to live with what you've done, to make things right".

Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't know if I can, Sam", he confessed, his voice raw with pain. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what I did to her".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, for the torment he was enduring. He wanted nothing more than to take away Dean's suffering, to ease the burden of guilt that weighed so heavily upon him.

Dean’s voice cracked as he continued, the weight of his confession pressing down on him like a heavy burden. “I hate myself, Sam”, he whispered. “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is… is what I did to her”.

"I know, Dean”, Sam said softly. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it consume you. You’re stronger than this”.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. “I don’t feel strong, Sam”, he admitted. “I feel broken. Like I’m irredeemable”.

"I know she'll never forgive me, Sam", he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't blame her. What I did… it's unforgivable".

Sam's heart clenched at Dean's admission, the weight of his brother's pain almost too much to bear. "Dean, you can't give up hope", he said gently, his voice filled with compassion. "People can surprise you. You just have to give her time".

But Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with resignation. "I've lost her, Sam", he said, his voice hollow with despair. "I've lost the love of my life, and the respect I had for myself along with it".

Standing in the hallway, you listened silently to the conversation unfolding in the library. The weight of Dean's confession and Sam's comforting words hung heavy in the air, their voices echoing through corridor.

Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Dean's admission of self-hatred and despair. The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, stirring a mixture of emotions within you. Part of you longed to reach out to him, to offer him solace and forgiveness. But another part of you recoiled at the memories of the trauma he had inflicted upon you, the scars that still lingered both physically and emotionally.

Taking a deep breath, you silently retreated from the hallway, the weight of the conversation heavy on your heart. You knew that healing would take time, for both you and Dean.

Another week passed, the weight of the unresolved tension between you and Dean hanging heavy in the air. Despite Sam and Cas's efforts to provide support and comfort, sleep continued to elude both of you. And as Cas had to leave to attend to other matters, leaving you without his comforting presence, the nights grew even longer and more restless.

One evening, as you stood in kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows across the room, you reached for a beer from the fridge. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Dean and the tumultuous emotions that swirled within you.

But before you could retreat to the solitude of your room, the sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you froze as Dean entered the kitchen. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the silence.

As you found yourself alone with Dean in the very room where he had caused you so much pain, a wave of fear washed over you, paralyzing you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as though it were trying to escape the confines of your chest. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you pressed yourself against the cold surface of the kitchen counter, seeking any semblance of safety and distance from the man who had once been your everything.

For Dean, seeing the raw fear reflected in your eyes was like a dagger to his heart. The weight of his past actions bore down upon him, crushing him with the knowledge of the pain he had caused you. His own eyes filled with tears as he watched you retreat, his heart breaking at the sight of your distress. Seeing you pressed against the kitchen counter, seeking refuge from him, shattered him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I'm so sorry", Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. "I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen".

His words hung heavy in the air, filled with the weight of his sincerity. But he knew that mere words could never erase the pain he had caused you. He longed to reach out to you, to offer you solace and comfort.

As Dean took another step forward, his expression wrought with anguish and regret, you held up a trembling hand, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Don't… don't come any closer", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a palpable sense of urgency. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your entire body trembling with the weight of your emotions. Every fiber of your being recoiled at the thought of him drawing near, the memories of his past actions haunting you like ghosts in the night.

"I can't… I can't do this", you continued, your voice wavering as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Not now, not ever. You… you've broken something inside of me, Dean. Something that can never be fixed".

Your words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the irreparable damage that had been done. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that stretched on for eternity.

Dean froze in place, his heart breaking at the sound of your trembling voice and the anguish etched across your tear-stained face. He longed to reach out to you, to wrap you in his arms and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had no right to ask for such mercy, not after what he had done to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, (Y/N). Not after everything I've done".

His words were heavy with resignation, his gaze cast downward as he grappled with the enormity of his mistakes. The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a reflection of the shattered pieces of both your hearts.

"I just… I just want you to know that I'm sorry", Dean continued. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make things right, even if I never earn your forgiveness".

As Sam stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, he froze in his tracks at the sight before him. The scene that unfolded before his eyes sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins, instantly banishing the remnants of sleep from his mind.

The sight of you, standing there with tears streaming down your face, your eyes wide with fear, pierced through him like a knife.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", Sam's voice was soft but urgent as he rushed forward, his eyes flickering between you and Dean, who stood nearby with a look of devastation etched across his features.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. His instincts told him that something was seriously wrong.

With a sense of urgency, Sam stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours as he reached out a comforting hand. "Are you okay", he asked, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?".

With a shaky voice and a forced calmness, you respond to Sam, "Nothing, Sam. Nothing happened". But the tremor in your voice and the haunted look in your eyes betray the truth of your words.

Before Sam could press further, you turn abruptly and practically flee from the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you race towards the safety of your room.

As the door slams shut behind you, the sound reverberates through the quiet bunker. Inside the confines of your room, you collapse onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you try to quell the storm of emotions raging within you.

Meanwhile, Dean stands in the kitchen, his fists clenched at his sides as he stares at the spot where you had stood only moments before. The silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths and the steady thud of his heart.

With a growl of frustration, Dean lashes out, his fist colliding with the wall with enough force to leave a sizable dent. Pain shoots through his hand, but it pales in comparison to the anguish that gnaws at his soul.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he sinks to the floor, the weight of his remorse pressing down upon him. He had thought that seeing you again would bring him some measure of closure, some semblance of redemption. But all he had accomplished was to reopen the wounds he had inflicted upon you, tearing them open with brutal force.

In that moment, Dean feels utterly lost, adrift in a sea of regret and self-loathing. He had shattered the one thing he had cherished most in this world, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions alone.

As Dean sat on the floor, his back against the wall, Sam approached him cautiously.

"Dean, man, are you okay?", Sam asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. "No, Sam, I'm not okay", he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again".

Sam sinked down beside him, mirroring his brother's posture as they both sat in silence for a moment. "Dean, what happened between you two… it wasn't your fault", he said gently.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, Sam, you don't understand", he insisted. "I hurt her, Sam. I hurt her in ways that I can't even begin to comprehend. And now… now I don't know how to fix it".

"Dean, you need to forgive yourself first".

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy with shame and self-loathing. "How am I supposed to forgive myself, Sam?", he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How can I ever look her in the eyes again, knowing what I did to her? How can I live with myself, knowing that I… that I raped my own girlfriend because I was a fucking demon?".

Dean felt like he's drowning in a sea of guilt and remorse.

"Sam, you don't understand", he said, "This… this is worse than anything I ever experienced in Hell. Worse than purgatory. Since I've been back, since I'm no demon anymore, the pain of what I did to her… it's unbearable. It's like a constant weight crushing down on me, suffocating me. I can't escape it, Sam. I can't escape the guilt, the shame, the remorse. It's consuming me from the inside out".

"I don't know how to live with myself, Sam", he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every day, every moment, I'm haunted by what I did to her. And the worst part is… I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve anything".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, knowing the depth of his pain. He reached out, wrapping Dean in a tight embrace, offering what little comfort he can. "Dean, listen to me", he mumbled softly, his voice filled with conviction. "I promise you, we'll find a way to make things right. But you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting".

For a moment, Dean allowed himself to lean into Sam's embrace, seeking solace in the comfort of his presence.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Part 3

#jensen ackles #dean x you #dean x reader #deanwinchtser #sam and dean #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #sam x reader #dean winchester x y/n #demon dean x reader #demon dean #hurtful #angst

[bubblegumfrosting]

Hunted pt. 3

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Vampire!reader

Summary: Will Dean warm up to you or continue seeing you as a monster?

Warnings: Pain, wound description, pus, mentions of drinking blood, getting undressed, swearing, mentions of attempted SA, mentions of murder

A/n: AHHH I hope you liked this part!!! There is probably going to be one or two more after this one ;)

Tags: @something-noir @fairy-alix

The smell of bacon and eggs lulled you awake. You can’t remember the last time you ate a home cooked meal. When you were small you’d beg your mom to make French toast every morning, of course she didn’t but when she did it was always special.

You slowly pulled yourself from out of the warm covers and onto the smooth concrete floor. While using the night stand as a crutch you examined your bandaged foot. There was a sickly yellow color seeping through the white fabric.

You sat back down onto the bed not wanting to leave the room in fear you’d over stay your welcome. Something caught your eye though, the once shut door was slightly open just how you asked Dean to do last night.

The gesture made you smile, although it was such a small act of empathy, it was the first act of compassion you’ve been shown since you turned.

Foot steps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts and made your heart quicken, thankfully it was Sam.

“Hey, uh I’m here to check the bandages. And I brought you breakfast.”, he awkwardly shifted towards you which caused you to flinch out of habit. “Hey, hey, I’m not going to hurt you.”, he set the plate of food on the bedside table and slowly went down on his right knee and gestured you to place the injured foot on his left knee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to flinch..”, you whispered and placed your foot for him to examine.

“You’re okay, you’ve had a rough couple of days.”, Sam said giving you a reassuring smile. The way the man looked at you was gentle as if he was afraid to break you. You were used to being treated as a threat so his caring nature felt foreign.

Sam slowly undid the bandages making sure he didn’t hurt you. Once the cut was exposed pus oozed out causing you to clench your jaw due to the pain.

“It’s infected..”, Sam grimaced and reached into the lower draw of the nightstand pulling out a new roll of bandages. “I thought vampires regenerated?”, Sam questioned as he wrapped your foot.

“They do, I don’t have that ability though.”, you replied. Sam nodded softly understanding your situation, “Why are you helping me?”.

“I know what it’s like to feel like a monster.”, Sam said solemnly.

You were shocked, how could a hunter possibly feel like the thing they hunted?

“What do you mean?”, Sam finished wrapping your foot and proceeded to sit next to you.

“I sorta started the apocalypse and was addicted to drinking demon blood.”.

“Wow..that’s um something.”, you fiddled with your fingers and Sam chuckled at your reaction.

“Once your foot feels better you can leave this room if you want.”, he got up and you did the same just slower.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your brother doesn’t seem to want me here..”.

“Yeah well he has his issues, he’s probably just upset because you took over his room.”, Sam said nonchalantly.

This was Dean’s room? You can’t explain why but you felt your cheeks warm up. The thought of sleeping in his bed made your heart quicken. You internally cursed at yourself, having a thing for a hunter is definitely not a smart idea, plus he wants you dead…but you couldn’t deny it, he was cute.

“Uh, I was wondering if I could take a shower?”, you were embarrassed to ask but you felt dirty and couldn’t stand it.

“Yeah sure, bathroom is down the hall. Towels should be in there.”, he started to leave but turned back, “I uh can get your stuff from your motel if you want?”.

“That would be amazing, thank you so much!”, he nodded his head with a smile and left.

After you finished the plate of food Sam brought, you headed down the hall to where he said the bathroom was.

Once you found it you were surprised to see how large the bathroom was. It almost had a locker room feel to it.

Before undressing you made sure to close the door. When you took of your clothes they basically fell off by themselves. Most of them were in shambles, definitely unwearable. You ignored the bruises and scabs on your knees from the night of the attack and stepped into the shower.

The much needed shower felt amazing, the water cleaned away the dirt and grime from your body. Afterwards you felt refreshed and much more awake. You grabbed a towel from the hanger and wrapped it around your body.

You quickly scurried back to Dean’s room as your wet feet made slapping sounds against the smooth ground. You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom but when you returned to the room Sam had already retrieved your belongings.

You dried off and put on your favorite shirt and sweatpants, although your hair was still dripping down your back, this was best you’ve felt in awhile.

You used this moment as an opportunity to try and make amends with Dean. You made your way down the hall way, opposite direction of the bathroom, and eventuality found a room with a high ceiling and a table with chairs surrounding it.

In one of the chairs there he sat, Dean. He was too busy reading a book whose title was in some ancient language to notice your presence.

“De-Dean?”, he looked up at you and gave a pissed off look than returned back to his book.

“So you get to know my name but I don’t get to know yours?”, his words laced with poison.

You inched closer to the table and he didn’t seem to care so you took a chair and sat in front of him.

“If you wanted to know my name, you could just ask..”, you brought your knees to your chest and stared at him. You were completely in awe of his looks.

“Just because I’m not looking at you doesn’t mean I can’t feel your gaze.”, you got embarrassed and looked away.

“Sorry.”, you paused, “Y/n by the way.”.

“What?”, he said and placed the book down to meet your eyes.

“My name, it’s Y/n.”, you gave him a smile hoping he is warming up to you.

“Well, Y/n, when are planning on leaving?”, he obviously wasn’t warming up to you.

Instead of answering his question you took his book and flipped it upside down, “Hm, I’m not sure if I’m reading this the wrong way or if it’s in a different language.”.

Dean snatched it back trying to suppress a laugh, “It’s enochian, the language used by angels.”.

“Angels? So if you’re reading it does that mean you’re an angel?”, you didn’t know where this sudden surge of confidence came from. You were perhaps delirious due to the pain form your foot.

“No. Although I’d fit the part perfectly, I’m not. My friend Cas is though.”, you laughed at him but when he just started back in a serious manner you knew he wasn’t joking.

“Wait..you know an “angel” and his name is “Cas””, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Yes. Now if you’re just going to sit here and annoy me than I’m going to leave.”, Dean got up and walked up the stairs.

“Nice talk..”, you said under your breath.

The rest of the day you explored the bunker, it was huge and there were many rooms. You eventually circled back to the table room and decided to go back to Dean’s room.

When you entered you were startled by Dean sitting at his desk, “Oh, I’m sorry.”, you awkwardly made your way to the bed but he didn’t pay you any mind. “Could I sleep here?”.

“Sure, I’ll be working on decoding this tablet.”, he said coldly.

You slipped under the covers and were greeted with the familiar scent of whiskey and cheap cologne. Dean’s presence was calming, although he hated your guts you felt safe with him.

You drifted off into a restless sleep. You were back in the alley way, the man had you on your knees and he looked down at you with a sickening smile.

“Please no!”, you screamed.

“You deserve this you dirty fucking monster.”, he started to unbuttoned his pants like he did that night.

You blacked out again but when you woke up it wasn’t him that was dead, it was your family.

“NO! No god no oh my god..”, you were crying and kicking in your sleep. You kept screaming for your parents and repeating that it was all your fault.

Dean shook you awake, “Hey! Y/n! Wake up!”, you jolted up and looked at Dean who was in shock.

Before you or him could grasp the situation you fell into his arms and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. The hug was awkward at first but he basically melted into you after a minute.

“You’re okay, I promise.”, he whispered.

It was at this moment Dean realized how human you were. You were broken and scared like how he was when he was a kid. His heart ached remembering everything you went though and the things he said to you.

“Am I.”, you croaked, “Really a monster?”.

“No no, I’m so sorry Y/n.”, he held you closer to him wanting to shield you from the world.

That night you told Dean everything as he held onto you, he shared what him and Sam went through. Both of your lives seemed pretty fucked.

I’m just a few hours you felt closer to Dean than anyone else you’ve met. For so long you both felt alone and you were both desperate for comfort.

“You can stay here as long as you need.”, you pulled back and looked at Dean.

“Really?”, you sniffed.

“Really.”.

A/n: sorry if this may have felt rushed, I kinda wanted to emphasize how desperate both Dean and Y/n are for a sense of comfort and found it in each other.

#dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #Dean #dean winchester x you #Dean Winchester/you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester/reader #Dean Winchester angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #dean/reader #Dean x reader #dean/you

[chucksfavouriteprophet]

The Intrusion - Chapter 14

Back to The Intrusion masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the fight leaves a life on the line and brings emotions to the surface.

Word count: 2,488

Warnings: language, life threatening injuries, lots of blood, idealisation of death, angst, high emotions, fluff, hospital talk

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of this series, I really hope you've enjoyed!

<>

With Y/N out of the room, Dean didn't feel the need to hold back anymore; he trashed at the Demons with a newfound ferocity, killing as quick as he could. The sheer number of them still seemed overwhelming, and the three men knew they didn't stand a chance. Just when he was sure this was it, Crowley's voice caught his attention from behind him.

"See you on the other side, boys." The King of Hell closed his eyes and grimaced as he slammed his palm into a sigil he'd roughly drawn out with his own blood. Before Sam, Dean, or Cas could react, the room filled with light and the Demons collapsed onto each other, shrieking as they did so. Dean brought his hand away from where it had been shielding his face and panted as he glanced around at the scene. His brother lent against the stone wall, bleeding from his forehead but otherwise fully intact, while the Angel was slumped against a chair having drained most of his Grace burning away the creatures that just kept coming. A layering of black dust was all that remained where Crowley had been.

"Well, thats one way to solve the problem," Sam wiped the dripping blood from his forehead and offered Cas a hand up.

"Shit, Y/N," Dean remembered with a panic, legging it outside as quick as he could. The smiting might have wiped out the Demons in the bunker, but if any had gone after you they probably wouldn't have been within reach. He pulled on the wet grass as he clambered up the slope, calling out your name into the darkness. God knows where you had got to, and he only hoped it was far enough away that you hadn't been found.

He ran for what felt like forever until the hint of low voices caught his attention. Waving the flashlight around frantically, he finally noticed movement and skidded his way towards you. He only slowed as he got closer, taking in the scene before him and sliding onto his knees.

"Y/N, hey hey hey. C'mon, open your eyes for me baby." He gently cradled your face, ashen and bloody, and stroked your cheeks to try and get your eyelids to flutter. He pulled you in close, checking for a pulse while staking stock of your injuries - your arms hung like a puppet by your side, and your torso was shredded, but it was your stomach that concerned him the most. Ripping off his flannel, he rolled it in a ball and pressed hard.

"Arghh," you moaned slightly, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N, honey, can you hear me? I need you to try open your eyes for me, okay? C'mon, just a little bit, lemme see those beauties."

Dean's soft voice drew you back from the fog slightly and you obeyed, using all your energy to crack your eyes open and latch onto his.

"There we are sweetheart, I'm here, okay, you're gonna be alright. I'm gonna patch you up, you're gonna be fine," Dean was rambling now, talking just for the sake of it. He manoeuvred you onto his lap, wincing as you groaned, letting your head roll into his chest as he focused on trying to stop the bleeding.

"Dean...I'm s-sorry", you croaked, letting out barely a whisper.

"Shh, don't be sorry, you've got nothing to be sorry for." Dean smiled down at you, trying to hide his concern. You panted, gasping for air, trying to will away the pain creeping through your stomach and the lack of feeling in your arms.

"Its okay Dean...I don't mind...I don't mind going...now...mom...mm...sister..." he seemed to be getting further and further away from you as your voice slurred. It was just so hard to hold on, it was as though you had nothing left. Your body felt so heavy, and so disjointed you weren't sure if you were already hovering somewhere separate to it.

"No sweetheart, don't say that. You're fine, its not even that bad, you hear me? It's just a scratch, we'll get you cleaned up and you'll be fine, okay? Y/N? Hey, no no no don't you close those eyes on me...I love you, okay? I love you, Y/N, so you can't leave me now, don't you dare leave me now!" He shook you as you sighed, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Dean could hear Sam in the distance, and yelled for him at the top of his lungs. Despite the break in his voice, Sam must have heard, because seconds later he was by your side.

His heart broke at that moment. Seeing his big brother, sprawled out in the wet leaves, struggling to maintain his composure over your broken body that lay in his lap limp and doll-like, Sam froze.

"Sammy, please, do something," Dean's voice cracked, looking up with glassy eyes. Sam nodded, bending down to investigate any further injuries.

"Lets get her inside, maybe Cas can help if his Grace isn't completely drained. We've gotta stop that bleeding Dean, but if we stay out here any longer she'll end up with hypothermia." The words didn't seem to register as Dean stayed put.

"DEAN!"

He jumped, before snapping back into action. With Sam's help, he stood up, cradling you like a baby, and bounded back towards the warmth and light of the bunker. As he rose, you moaned again, your eyes fluttering but still only on the brink of consciousness. You were loosing too much blood, and far too quickly.

Skidding back into the bunker, the Winchesters headed straight for the infirmary, Cas trailing behind asking what had happened. Dean shook as he lay you down, suddenly realising how soaked in blood he was and how the flannel wasn't doing anywhere near enough to stop the flow oozing from your stomach.

"Cas, man, help her," he begged, but the Angel just looked at him forlorn. It was clear that he was weak, and this was a big ask.

"I'll try my best Dean, but I cannot heal her fully, I'm sorry." Cas stepped forward, using one hand to support himself on the bed, the other reaching down to touch your forehead. You squirmed slightly as his palm glowed, before going limp again, your head rolling to the side. Cas stumbled, leaning on Sam for some support as he sunk into a chair and looked round at the hopeful brothers.

"I've managed to stop the bleeding, but any damage that is done is done. I'm afraid we'll have to wait and see." He looked exhausted, but more so disappointed that he couldn't help his friend fully.

"She's strong, she'll pull through. Thank you, Cas." Sam patted his shoulder, nodding at his brother to do the same. But all Dean could do was stare at your face, looking so peaceful now, but still out cold. He took your hand, giving it a tight squeeze, desperate to feel even just a weak one back. He was already blaming himself - if he had just listened to you and not sent you away, if you'd done as you'd said and stuck together, he might have been able to stop this from happening. There was so much he hadn't said yet, so much he needed to say that only now he was realising.

Sam recognised the desperation on his brother's face and took it as his cue to leave, guiding Cas up and squeezing your knee as they headed to the war room to start to clear the mess.

Dean remained by your side the rest of the night, making sure you were comfortable and your temperature stayed within a safe region. He took his time stitching you up, half praying it would wake you, but also grateful it didn't so you wouldn't have to experience the pain. He cleaned each wound, no matter how superficial, and with the help of Sam and Google, wrapped your arms in makeshift casts that would at least support them until it seemed safe enough to move you to a hospital. Truth be told he'd wanted to do that since Cas had failed to heal you all the way, but both the Angel and Sam made a point that your sort of injuries would only arouse suspicion and right now they had everything you needed in the infirmary anyway.

He'd lost count of the hours when you started to stir. He'd been drifting off, head resting on the bed, when fingers lightly ran through his hair. His head whipped up, looking towards you hopefully, breaking out into a grin when he saw you awake and smiling. Yes, you were still incredibly pale and your chest heaved as you gasped for breath with a wheeze, but there was a light in your eyes that calmed Dean.

"Hey you," you mumbled, struggling forward to sit up but groaning at the pain as you collapsed back down.

"Careful, those stitches are still raw," he spoke softly, moving slowly to help you get comfortable again. You clammed your eyes shut again, willing away the pain, pursing your lips. Taking a breath, you tried again.

"Did you get them all?"

Dean chuckled, reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"You're lying in a hospital bed and the first thing you want to know is if we killed everyone?"

You huffed and rolled your eyes. "Well, I need to know if it was worth getting hurt, after all. Don't want it all to be for nothing. Plus, I lived here first, remember. I know this is still the bunker, not an actual hospital."

Dean smiled, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead. Something wet narrowly missed your eye as he did so, and you frowned.

"Dean, you're not...you're not crying, are you?"

He quickly brushed his cheeks, shaking his head. "You had me real worried for a moment there, Y/N. Cas was wiped out smiting all the Demons so he could only heal you so much, and I thought I might have been too late. I mean, you seemed so peaceful...it was almost as if..."

"...as if I wanted to go?"

He bit his lip, the colour draining from his face. "You didn't though, did you?"

You struggled to make eye-contact with him, your heart breaking slightly. "For a second, maybe. Once it didn't hurt anymore, I just sorta figured maybe I could see my family again. But Dean...then I heard your voice. And, I dunno, I guess you pulled me back. These past few weeks with you, you've shown me a whole new reason to live. Hunting with you and Sam, well I've finally found something I'm good at, something that gives me purpose. And I never wanna let go of that."

You pulled him in, encouraging him to sit on the bed, which he did so hesitantly, careful not to bump your wounds.

"I never wanna let go of you."

His eyes glassy, Dean gazed up at you. The bags beneath the glowing emerald were a deep purple, littered with streaks of red. His lips were chapped, the skin peeling to reveal fresh pink plumpness emerging through. His hair was in desperate need of a wash, the deep blonde tips darkened by dirt, styling having gone completely out of the window. You could see the worry all over him, the fear that he might have lost you. It made you shit yourself, the realisation that one day you might come just as close to losing him. That was something you knew you couldn't survive.

"I love you too, Dean Winchester."

Despite murmuring, the words were clear as day. Dean's hairs stood up on end, and he felt a new lease of life rush through him. He lifted his head up, tilting it slightly as the tears flowed out.

"You heard that?"

You nodded, feeling a tear slip down your own cheek. Elbows on the bed, he picked up your hand, clasping it tightly, and gave it a tight squeeze followed by a longer kiss.

"I love you so much, Y/N."

You let go of his tight grasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing him to clamber further up the bed to join you.

"I don't wanna hurt you baby," he tried, only to be shushed by you as you painfully edged your way over to make room for him.

"As long as I'm with you, I'll never be hurt. Splitting up was what got us in this situation, right?" You let his head nuzzle into your shoulder, realising he must be just as exhausted as you.

"You got that right," he chuckled, and you smiled as you felt the vibration of his chest on yours.

You lay like that for the rest of the night, sleeping together. As dawn approached, Dean woke feeling entirely refreshed and slid off your sleeping form silently before heading to the kitchen.

"Hows she doing?" Sam questioned as he boiled an egg. Dean patted his brother on the shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"She's gonna be alright, you know."

"And you?"

"Me? Fine...hell Sammy, I'm better than ever."

Sam took his big brother into a hug. "I'm glad man. You deserve it. Hell, I'm relieved too. Its about time you two finally admitted your feelings for each other."

Dean mocked slapped Sam round the head, before getting some food on himself. With a whistle, he skipped back to the infirmary, armed with fresh orange juice and toast. His eyes lit up when he saw you awake and sitting up.

"Hey, baby. I bought you some grub. Figured something plain would be best, but I can always fix you up something else if you'd rather."

You smiled as he placed the tray on your lap, giving his shoulder a kiss.

"Thank you, Dean. Amazing."

With trembling fingers trapped in casts, you tried to break apart the toast, struggling with grip. You groaned, and Dean dived straight in.

"Here, lemme help." He graciously pulled the pieces apart, lifting it up to feed you.

"Dean," you mumbled, embarrassed. "I don't need you to feed me."

He stroked your hair, letting you know it was alright. "Sweetheart, you're exhausted. Your body is still recovering, and probably will be for a while, or at least until Cas can heal you all the way. Let me help you, please. You don't need to be ashamed."

You glanced away for a second before nodding hesitantly, opening your mouth slightly as he lunged. The next attempt he did with an airplane noise, which only resulted in fits of giggles from both of you, despite the tugging at your ribs. Somewhere, amid the pain and exhaustion, despite the looming danger of your lifestyles, even against the odds of death and destruction, there was hope. It was hope that had brought you and Dean Winchester together, and it was hope that was going to see you through.

| Chapter 15 |

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#supernatural #dean winchester #sam and dean #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #dean winchester x y/n #spn fic #sam winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural series #spn hurt/comfort #spninjured!reader

[saiacross]

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic: 10,865 Words: Series: Reader-Insert Note: I Changed the format of the story from Saia to Y/N for readers but you can still read the original on my AO3.

Chapter 7: A Fateful Reunion

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters. **Major Story Plot Chapter** ________________________ Chapter 7:

The wheels have been set in motion now as Crowley comes to collect on the debt Y/N owes him. Little does anyone know that the toll is far greater than anyone could imagine. The task? A hunter that has been causing Crowley trouble and Y/N will need to take care of him. Y/N knows there is no refusing him but what no one expected was for the target to be.... As they meet once again, centuries worth of memories and pain begin to mix with new fears and nightmares. Even Crowley didn't account for this one. ________________________ Main Story: Y/N is no ordinary Huntress and when she runs into the Winchesters her life takes a turn. As time unfolds, they get to know each other, rely on one another, and demonstrate they care for one another in their own ways. Y/N's life begins to unravel into her history, present, and what lies ahead. She faces resurfacing fears she believed she'd escaped long ago, aided by the Winchester brothers. Their journey together is one of confronting old horrors and finding newfound strength.

Y/N stirs from her sleep, her eyes fluttering open as she reaches for her phone on the nightstand. The ringing pierces through the quiet of her room, indicating an incoming call. She glances at the clock and realizes it's still early in the morning. With a groggy voice, she answers the phone, "Hello?"

“Good morning Kitten, hope you slept well.” Y/N could hear the grin in Crowley’s voice from the other side of the phone.

She clears her throat her eyes widen as she hears Crowley's voice on the other end of the line. She sits up straight in bed, fully awake now "Crowley.”

Crowley's smooth and confident tone resonates through the phone. "Yes, It's time for you to hold up your end of the bargain. I trust you remember our deal?"

Y/N takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she recalls the agreement she made with the King of Hell. "Yes, Crowley, I remember. What do you need from me?"

Crowley chuckles lightly. "Oh, it's nothing too demanding, my dear. I simply require your assistance with a small matter. Meet me in the town of Blackwood, Wisconsin. There is a pesk I need dealt with, and you Kitten are just the person for the job.”

Y/N clenches her jaw, realizing that there's no escape from fulfilling her deal. She resigns herself to the fact that she must honor her agreement with the demon. "Alright, Crowley. I'll be there."

Crowley's voice oozes with satisfaction. "Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Don't keep me waiting too long."

With that, the call ends, leaving Y/N staring at her phone, a mix of determination and unease swirling within her. She knows she must fulfill her end of the deal, but she also knows that dealing with Crowley comes with its own set of risks and consequences. She takes a moment to steel herself before getting out of bed, knowing that her journey to Blackwood, Wisconsin is about to be a long one.

Y/N, her bags packed and slung over her shoulder, stands outside her room, hesitating for a moment. She knows she needs to leave, but facing the boys after the argument in the kitchen feels daunting. With a heavy sigh, she decides to leave a note for them instead.

She grabs a pen and a piece of paper and quickly scribbles down a message. The words are concise, but she hopes they convey enough information. The note reads, "Hey guys, got a call. Heading out for a job. Call if you need me. Take care. -Y/N"

Y/N pins the note to the kitchen noticeboard, making sure it's visible to both Sam and Dean. She lingers for a moment, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. She knows it's better to communicate with them directly, but the tension from the previous day's argument still weighs heavily on her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N straightens her posture and adjusts the straps of her bags. She walks toward the front door, glancing back at the bunker one last time before stepping out into the world. She knows she has a task to complete for Crowley, and while it may be dangerous, it also gives her the chance to clear her head.

As she heads towards her car, she hopes that the note will be enough to convey her intentions to the Winchesters. She knows they'll be worried, but she believes it's for the best to face this challenge alone.

Y/N continues driving along the open road, the engine of her purple Stingray Corvette purring beneath her. The song "Love is a Battlefield" by Pat Benatar fills the car, its catchy chorus echoing through the speakers. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, lost in her thoughts.

Just as the chorus reaches its peak, her phone begins to ring, interrupting the music. Y/N glances at the screen and sees Dean's name flashing. She hesitates for a moment, debating whether to answer the call or let it go to voicemail. She knows Dean could be angry, but there's also a chance that it might be something important.

Caught in the midst of her internal dilemma, Y/N takes a bit too long to answer the call, and the ringing eventually stops. She lets out a frustrated sigh, realizing that her hesitation has only added to the tension between them. She knows that not answering will only fuel the fire of their argument from the previous day.

Y/N, contemplating whether to call Dean back, reaches to turn down the music in her car. Just as she's about to make a decision, her phone rings again. This time, Sam's name appears on the screen. With a hint of relief, she accepts the call and brings the phone to her ear.

“Hey Sam, -”

As she answers, she can already hear Dean's frustrated voice on the other end. “What the hell, you ghosting me now?”

Y/N is taken aback by his angry tone and remains silent, unsure of how to respond. But before she can say anything, Sam interjects. “Damnit Dean, give me my phone back!” The sound of wrestling and the boys cursing at one another can be heard over the phone.

Suddenly there is silence on the other end until Y/N hears Sam huff before clearing his throat. “Hey, sorry about that, Y/N.”

 "It's alright, Sam. Is everything okay?" Y/N tries to play it off like it's nothing, not wanting to cause further tension.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's okay. We just saw your note about leaving and wanted to make sure you're alright."

"Right, sorry about leaving like that, but it's nothing major. Just a small case I wanted to check out on my own."

"Y/N, you know we're here for you, right? You don't have to handle everything on your own."

"I know, but this one... I just need to handle it myself, okay? It's personal."

"Alright, if that's what you want. But at least tell me where you're going?"

"I'd rather not say, Sam. It's best if you don't know. Trust me on this."

"This is ridiculous, Sam! She's being secretive again!" Dean can be heard hollering from the background. Sam shoots him a look before turning back to the phone.

"Okay, Y/N Just... be safe, alright? If you need anything, don't hesitate to call us."

"I will, Sam. Thank you."

“Stay safe out there."

The call ends, leaving Y/N with a mix of determination and uncertainty. She knows she's keeping something from the Winchesters, but she believes it's for the best. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean exchange frustrated glances as they try to understand Y/N's decision, even if they don't fully agree with it.

After ending the call Sam turns around to face Dean who is pacing the library floor.

“Dean, did you ever go and talk to her last night?

Dean stops with his hands on his hips. “I was going to. This morning. But then she just took off.” Dean waved his hand through the air in a random direction.

Sam looks at Dean, frustration and disappointment written on his face. His nostrils flare as her breaths heavily trying to calm himself.

“What you think this is my fault?” Dean asked, feeling accused as he read his brother's expressions.

“Yes, Dean!” Sam said matter of factly with all his built-up anger.

Dean did a double take looking at Sam, surprised and unsure what to say at this point.

Y/N walked into the bustling diner in Blackwood, Wisconsin, her senses immediately filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon. She found an empty booth and took a seat, ready to make the call to Crowley and let him know she had arrived. As she reached for her phone, she heard a familiar voice next to her.

"Hello, Kitten. No need to make that call. I'm right here."

Y/N looked up, surprised to see Crowley sitting across from her in the booth, wearing his signature smirk. She couldn't help but feel a mix of annoyance and amusement at his ability to always appear when least expected.

"Crowley. Always one step ahead, aren't you?" Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed, my dear. So, no Winchester brothers in tow this time? Quite the solo act you've got going on." Crowley would lean back in the booth,

"That's right. I decided to handle this one on my own." Y/N nodded.

"Ah, the intrigue. A lover's quarrel back at the bunker, perhaps? Did you and the boys have a falling out? Have you been playing favorites? Did one get jealous?" Crowley playfully poked the bear with a smirk.

"Sometimes it's necessary to take some time apart to regroup." Y/N tried to pay no mind to how close Crowley might actually be, was Dean just jealous? Nah…. Nah.

"Ah, the delicate art of balancing multiple partners. I can understand how challenging it can be to keep everyone happy."

"Let's focus on the task at hand, Crowley. I'm here to fulfill my end of the deal, not discuss my personal life." Y/N had rolled her eyes and was ready to move on.

"As you wish, Kitten. We'll put the drama aside for now and get down to business. But I must say it is good to see you back on your feet as soon after our little rescue mission.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Y/N's eyes widen as realization dawns upon her. "You...you gave that book to Dean and Sam, didn't you? You were the one who exposed my secrets!" Y/N was yelling through her teeth to keep her voice low and not bother the others in the dinner.

 "Guilty as charged. But hear me out, Y/N. I had no choice. I needed to ensure you recovered, that you kept your end of the deal we made." Crowley spoke matter of factly.

"You had no right, Crowley.” Y/N's anger intensifies, her fists clenched in frustration.

 "I understand your anger, Y/N. But I assure you, I had no other option. Your recovery is vital, and I needed to make sure you didn't falter."

Y/N falls silent, her anger mingled with a sense of helplessness. She despises being a pawn in Crowley's schemes.

“What is it you want.”

“There's a man out there who has been mercilessly hunting down and killing my men. I was you to find him and put an end to it."

“Wait, the King of Hell, a Demon, wants me, a Kitsune, to go after a hunter that's targeting demons? Are you joking?" Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Do I look like I'm joking?” Crowley raised his eyebrows while slightly tilting his head up in ‘superiority’. “This isn't just any hunter. There's something different about him. He shows no mercy and strikes down anyone or anything that crosses his path, not just demons. The body count he's racked up is significantly higher than any ordinary hunter I've encountered including the Winchesters."

"Crowley going after a hunter like this, it's dangerous. I'm just one Kitsune. What makes you think I can handle this?" Y/N’s confusion turned to a mix of apprehension and concern.

"Oh, my dear Kitten, I have complete faith in your abilities that make you the ideal candidate.” Crowley has folded his hand in front of him on the table by this time. “And besides, you don’t have much of a choice. We did make a deal.” He reminds her.

Y/N takes a moment to contemplate the situation, realizing that this task is more significant than she initially thought.

“Alright, Crowley. I'll do it But I need as much information as you can provide about this hunter. Do you have a name, a picture, any idea of his whereabouts or his next move?"

 "I thought you'd never ask, my dear. Here's what I've gathered so far." Crowley leans back to reach into his pocket.

Crowley pulls out a small folder from his pocket and slides it across the table to Y/N. Y/N opens the folder and finds several photographs of his handy work, documents, and a map detailing the recent activities of the hunter; but nothing on what he looks like.

 “This is more than I expected. It looks like you've been thorough."

"Well, when it comes to protecting my interests, I leave no stone unturned. I want this hunter dealt with, Y/N, and I trust that you're the one who can get the job done."

“I have a good start with this information. I'll keep in touch." As Y/N gathers the materials and carefully tucks them away, she feels a mix of determination and apprehension. The weight of the task ahead is apparent, but she knows that with the information Crowley has provided, she has a fighting chance to bring an end to the hunter's reign of terror.

Over the next few days, Y/N throws herself into the hunt for the relentless hunter, determined to bring him down. She traverses through dark alleyways, abandoned buildings, and the seedy underbelly of various supernatural communities, following the trail of destruction he leaves behind.

Y/N seeks out demons, werewolves, and other creatures willing to share any information they have on the hunter. She uses her wit and charm to coax out even the smallest tidbits of knowledge, piecing together a clearer picture of her target.

During her relentless pursuit, Y/N's efforts are rewarded when she manages to obtain a piece of clothing stained with the hunter's blood. With this invaluable clue, she now has his scent, which she carefully preserves for tracking purposes.

Y/N employs her keen sense of smell, honed by her Kitsune abilities, to follow the faint trace of the hunter's scent. It guides her through forests, urban landscapes, and even desolate wastelands, pushing her to the limits of her physical endurance.

The journey is fraught with danger and close calls, as Y/N encounters various obstacles and confronts dangerous adversaries who try to impede her progress. However, fueled by determination and her desire to protect both innocent lives and her own, she presses on.

Y/N's focus intensifies as she zeroes in on the hunter's whereabouts. She moves with swift agility, her senses heightened, as she closes in on her prey. Each step brings her closer to the ultimate showdown, where she will face the hunter head-on.

As the days turn into nights, and the hunt reaches its climax, Y/N remains steadfast and unwavering in her pursuit.

Y/N sits in her parked car, the engine humming softly as she speaks on the phone with Sam. The town of Chancellor, South Dakota surrounds her, the quiet streets illuminated by dim streetlights. She leans back against the seat, the glow of the phone casting a faint light on her face.

“Hey Y/N, we're hanging in there. Just wanted to check in on you since we hadn’t heard from ya in a while. How's the case going?” Sam’s voice was calm and almost soothing. She hadn’t realized it but this might be the longest she had been away from the brothers since she teamed up with them.

“I'm getting close, Sam. It's been a bit tougher than expected, but I think I'm nearing the end. Sorry, it's taking longer than I thought.” Y/N's voice is filled with a mix of weariness and determination.

 “No worries. But hey be careful out there, I've heard reports of a random hunter causing havoc in different towns. People are getting killed.” The concern in Sam's voice is palpable as he expresses his worries.

 Y/N's grip tightens on the phone, her brows furrowing slightly. She knows that the dangerous hunter Sam is referring to is the same target she's been tracking. However, she chooses to keep this information to herself, not wanting to burden Sam with the specifics of her pursuit.

“I promise I'm being careful.” Her voice carries a sense of confidence, although a hint of fatigue lingers beneath the surface.

“Alright well you know if you need backup or anything, just let us know.” Sam's concern persists, his words filled with genuine care for Y/N's well-being.

“Will do. Talk to you soon.” The call ends, and Y/N sits in her car, the weight of her secrets and the concern from her friends lingering in the air. She takes a moment to collect herself.

“Was that Y/N on the phone?” Dean asked as he walked into the room with a sandwich in hand.

“Yeah, it was. She's still working on her case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “How much longer is she gonna be out there?

“I'm not sure. She said she's close, but…. something didn't sound right over the phone.” Sam’s worry was evident on his face.

“Well, she's a tough one. She can handle herself.” Dean would say as he took a bit.

“Yeah, I know, but still... I can't shake this feeling. It was something in her voice.”

Dean notices Sam's worry but doesn't say anything as the two exchange a look filled with concern.

Y/N stood outside her car, dressed in her hunter attire, ready to face her target. She wore black cargo pants that were tucked into her sturdy boots, providing both mobility and protection. Her choice of clothing allowed for easy movement while still blending into the shadows. The vibrant purple halter top added a touch of her own personal style to the practical outfit.

With her weapons at the ready, Y/N meticulously checked her pistol, ensuring that it was loaded and secured in its holster on her right hip. She knew the importance of being prepared for any situation that may arise. On her left thigh, a knife holster held a sharp blade, easily accessible for close-quarters combat. Strapped to the back of her waist was her twin sai, deadly weapons that she wielded with precision and skill.

As a Kitsune, Y/N's heightened senses allowed her to be acutely aware of her surroundings. Her fox ears twitched as she listened for any signs of danger or movement, her focus honed on the task at hand. The weight of responsibility and anticipation filled the air as she took a final moment to gather herself.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Y/N closed the trunk of her car with a decisive thud. The sound echoed in the silence of the night, a symbol of her readiness and determination.

Closing the trunk of her car, Y/N's keen senses detected Castiel's presence the moment he landed nearby. She turned to find him standing there, his intense gaze fixed upon her. Y/N, unfazed by his sudden appearance, voiced the obvious question.

“Cas, what are you doing here?”

Castiel glanced around their surroundings, taking note of their location before answering. "Sam and Dean sensed something was amiss during their last conversation with you. They asked me to check on you."

Y/N, her tone firm and assertive, dismissed the idea of needing someone to watch over her. "I don't need a babysitter, Cas."

"I had no intention of revealing myself, but… something doesn't feel right here. We should leave this place immediately." Concern was routed deep in Castiel’s voice.

"I appreciate your concern, Cast, but this is where my case has led me. This is where I find my target. I can't abandon it now."

"I understand your resolve, Y/N. But please, consider the dangers. I only wish to ensure your safety."

As Y/N remained firm in her decision to stay and face the challenges ahead on her own, Castiel weighed his options. He couldn't shake the feeling of malevolence emanating from the eerie building before them. With a deep breath, he turned to Y/N, a determined look in his eyes that sent shivers down her spine.

"Y/N, I can sense something dark and malevolent within that building. I may not have all the answers, but I can't let you face this alone. Please, tell me about this case. What are you hunting?"

Y/N hesitated, her eyes locked with Castiel's intense gaze. She understood the risks of involving him, but there was an undeniable sense of concern and determination in his words.

Y/N though will stand her ground, refusing to reveal the details of her hunt to Castiel and rejecting his offer to assist her, a voice interrupted their conversation. Crowley's voice filled the air, causing both Y/N and Castiel to turn their attention towards him. Crowley's tone was filled with amusement and a hint of authority.

"Now, now, no need to get your feathers all ruffled. Y/N is just fulfilling her end of our little deal."

“You made a deal with him?” Castiel asks.

Y/N sighed, her frustration evident as she glanced between Crowley and Castiel. The situation had become more complicated than she had anticipated, knowing that Castiel would likely inform Dean and Sam about what he had discovered.

“Yes. In exchange for Crowley’s help during that Alpha Vampire situation, I made a deal with him that I would owe him a favor. I was hoping to keep Dean and Sam out of this one.” Y/N admitted.

 "Well, Kitten, that's a problem, isn't it? Seems like you've got yourself caught between an Angel and a Winchester. Quite the sticky situation."

“Enough distractions. I have a job to do.” Y/N would huff as she walked past Crowley and Castiel, her steps resolute and determined.

As Y/N ventured further into the building, her senses on high alert, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. The dimly lit corridors added to the eerie atmosphere, casting long shadows that seemed to dance in the corner of her vision. With each step, she followed her intuition and the scent that led her closer to her target

“Where are you, you son of a bitch?” She would whisper to herself. Her voice echoed through the desolate halls, the only response being the faint sound of distant dripping water. As she turned a corner, a sudden movement caught her attention, and she froze in her tracks. There, at the end of the hallway, stood a figure cloaked in darkness. The presence emanated a malevolent energy that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

“Show yourself!” Y/N yelled as she drew her pistol and held it tightly.

The figure slowly stepped forward, revealing himself.

“Well, well, well... Look who's come to play. My little fox, all grown up.”

Y/N stood frozen in place, her entire body trembling with a mix of terror and anger. The man before her, the hunter she had been tracking, was none other than her own father. The man responsible for the unspeakable act that had forever scarred her.

“No…” Y/N whispered, her voice barely escaping her lips as she tried to comprehend the horrifying truth. Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to burst from the overwhelming emotions coursing through her.

“I must say I am impressed you've come so far to find me. Your determination matches that of your mother's.”

His voice dripped with arrogance, relishing in the power he held over her. Memories of her mother's death flashed before Y/N's eyes, fueling a surge of anger within her.

“You…. you..” Y/N’s voice quivered with a mixture of anguish and fury. She longed to speak, to confront him, but her voice remained trapped within her dry throat.

“You know, I've searched for you all these years. Ever since that night in the forest. I heard whispers, and rumors of your betrayal. Turning your back on your own kind, aligning yourself with humans. Oh, the audacity!” His voice dripped with contempt, each word laced with a vindictive satisfaction. The darkness within him emanated, engulfing the space between them.

Y/N's heart raced as she listened to her father's twisted words. She knew he was playing a game, manipulating her emotions to draw her closer like a spider ensnaring its prey. But she couldn't ignore the truth. She had stepped into his trap, willingly walking into the lion's den.

“Ah, my sweet, frightened Y/N. Don't worry, I won't hurt you... just yet. I simply wanted to remind you of your place, of the debt you owe me. Your little adventure with the humans ends here, my dear. You belong to me, and you will come to realize that soon enough.”

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as her father drew closer, his outstretched hand inching closer to her face. But as he approached, a surge of strength coursed through her body, fueling her desperate escape. With a burst of adrenaline, Y/N sprinted towards the door, her mind focused on finding a way out.

However, as her hand gripped the door handle and she pushed with all her might, the giant metal door remained stubbornly shut, refusing to yield to her frantic attempts. Panic surged through her veins, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she desperately scanned the room for another escape route.

Through the haze of fear and desperation, Y/N could hear her father's laughter echoing around her. It sent shivers down her spine.

“Oh, my dear Y/N, how thrilling! Just like the old days, isn't it? You run, I chase. The game is never-ending.” His voice dripped with sadistic glee, each word slicing through the air.

Feeling cornered, Y/N turned to face her father, her hands trembling as she raised her pistol and emptied her entire magazine into his chest. Each shot echoed in the room, but to her horror, her father seemed unfazed by the barrage of bullets.

“How..” Y/N's breath hitched as a mixture of disbelief and dread gripped her. She had hoped that this final act of defiance would end the nightmare, but it only seemed to fuel her father's amusement. Y/N's heart sank as she realized that her actions had only served to entertain him. Her efforts to escape and fight back felt futile in the face of his unstoppable presence.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fled from the locked door, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and her sadistic father. She knew that staying in the same room with him was a death sentence, and she had to find another way out. The echoes of her father's voice reverberated through the building, taunting her, and reminding her that he was always one step behind.

As she ran, Y/N's mind raced, searching for any possible escape route. She needed to find a way to the roof or a higher floor with a fire escape, anything that would lead her to safety. Her legs propelled her up the stairs, each step bringing her closer to a potential means of escape.

Her father's menacing voice followed her, his words dripping with malevolence. He claimed that she could no longer hide from him, that he would always find her. Fear surged through her veins, but she refused to let it paralyze her. Her mother's screams echoed in her head, fueling her determination to survive.

Finally, Y/N reached a higher floor, her eyes scanning for a fire escape or any means of exit. The building seemed to hold its breath as she frantically searched for a way out, her heart pounding in her ears. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of her father's presence pressing down on her.

Y/N's heart raced as her phone shattered the tense silence, the sound cutting through the air. Her trembling fingers fumbled to retrieve the device from her pocket, and as she glanced at the screen, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Dean's name displayed boldly. Tears welled up in her eyes, blending with the raw emotions that coursed through her veins.

Desperate for the solace Dean's voice could provide, Y/N answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear. Before she could utter a single word, Dean's voice burst through, brimming with anger and demand.

“Why the hell are we hearing from Cas that you’re working for Crowley like some kind of dog?” But Y/N couldn't find it within herself to care about Dean's anger at that moment. His voice, even laced with frustration, was a balm to her battered soul, and it evoked a floodgate of tears that streamed down her face as she choked out his name.

“... Dean..”

The single word, spoken through trembling lips, held layers of vulnerability and a plea for comfort. Dean's keen ears picked up on the rawness in her voice, the tears that mingled with fear and desperation, causing a surge of concern and worry to replace his initial anger. His tone softened instantly, shifting from frustration to genuine concern.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Dean's voice was now filled with worry, his protective instincts taking hold as he sensed the depth of her distress.

Sam, standing nearby, noticed the shift in Dean's voice. Concern etched across his features, mirroring the worry that had settled in Dean's eyes.

"Dean, what's happening? Is Y/N okay?" Sam stepped closer, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N's voice, laden with sorrow and fear, quivered as she whispered into the phone, tears cascading down her face. "It was a trap, Dean. He found me."

Dean's concern mingled with confusion as he urgently questioned, "Who found you, Y/N? Who's got you?"

Through choked sobs, Y/N managed to utter the name that struck fear into their hearts. "My father... I'm trapped."

Panic etched across Dean's face, his mind racing with the gravity of the situation. With conviction in his voice, he reassured Y/N, "Hold on, Y/N. We're coming for you. Sam and I are on our way. It's going to be okay, I promise."

Desperation echoed in Y/N's voice as she uttered Dean's name once more, her words filled with an unspoken plea for rescue. But before she could say anything further, the cell phone signal abruptly vanished, leaving them with dead phones in their hands.

Turning to face Sam, Dean's expression hardened with determination. "We need to get to her, Sam. Now."

Sam nodded in agreement, the urgency reflected in his eyes. Both brothers turned to Castiel, who had silently observed the conversation unfold. Sam's voice was resolute as he addressed the angel. "Cas, we're taking us to Y/N right now. We can't waste any more time."

Castiel nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

As Y/N's phone went dead, the ominous sound of footsteps reverberated through the dimly lit halls. Panic surged through her veins, urging her to find a means of defense. Frantically scanning her surroundings, she realized she was standing in a break room, equipped with a small kitchenette.

A nagging thought crept into her mind: What if her father was not acting alone? What if he was possessed by a demon, rendering him immune to her earlier shots? The uncertainty only heightened her fear, intensifying her need to take precautions.

Her eyes darted towards the cabinets, desperately seeking something that could aid her in this perilous situation. Relief washed over her when she spotted a container of salt tucked away in one of the cabinets. With a silent prayer, Y/N grabbed the salt, her mind racing with the possibilities.

Hastily, Y/N retreated into the darkness of the break room, concealing herself from sight. Her heart pounded in her chest as she clutched the container of salt, her knuckles turning white from the grip. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, waiting for her father's approach.

Time seemed to stretch as Y/N crouched in the shadows, her senses heightened to detect even the slightest movement. She knew that her next move could determine her survival, and she steeled herself for the impending confrontation.

Y/N's grip tightened on the canister of salt as she unsheathed her knife, her movements fueled by a mix of adrenaline and determination. Her heightened senses honed in on the approaching footsteps, growing louder and more menacing with each passing second.

As the figure's shadow loomed before her, Y/N's muscles tensed, ready to strike. In one swift motion, she burst out of the darkness, unleashing a spray of salt directly into the man's face. Blinded and disoriented, he staggered backward, desperately trying to clear his burning eyes.

Taking advantage of the man's vulnerable state, Y/N charged forward, delivering a powerful shoulder check that sent him crashing to the ground. With her heart pounding in her chest, she swiftly drove her blade through his shoulder, eliciting a pained grunt from her assailant.

Seizing the moment, Y/N's voice rang out, her words laced with the ancient incantation of a demon exorcism. The air crackled with energy as she chanted, her voice unwavering. Black smoke billowed forth from the man's mouth, twisting and contorting before flying into the air.

As the smoke dissipated, Y/N stood there, breathing heavily, her gaze fixed upon the fallen man. Her eyes widened with realization and disbelief; it wasn't her father lying before her. The weight of her actions settled upon her, a mix of relief and confusion flooding her mind.

As the realization sank in, Y/N's mind raced with a whirlwind of fear and panic. Questions flooded her thoughts, amplifying her unease. How many more demons were involved? Where was her father now? And perhaps most concerning of all, how would Dean and Sam walk into this treacherous situation unaware of the impending danger?

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she grappled with the weight of her newfound knowledge. The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air, the silence punctuated only by the sound of her own rapid breaths. She realized that time was of the essence, and she needed to act swiftly to protect those she cared about.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel materialized just outside the imposing building where Castiel had last seen Y/N disappear. Dean's brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced around, scanning the surroundings. His voice was laced with frustration and concern, and he turned to Castiel, demanding an explanation.

"Cas, why the hell are we outside? Why didn't you just take us straight to Y/N?"

Castiel, his expression tinged with uncertainty, met Dean's gaze and sighed softly.

"I'm not entirely sure. Something is preventing me from going directly inside. There's a powerful force at work here."

Sam, his determination overriding any concerns about Castiel's current limitations, swiftly drew his pistol from its holster. He checked the weapon, ensuring it was loaded and ready for action.

"Doesn't matter, Dean. We need to find Y/N. Let's go."

Without hesitation, Sam took the lead, striding purposefully toward the entrance of the building. Dean, his concern etched on his face, followed suit, his own pistol firmly in hand. Castiel brought up the rear, his eyes scanning their surroundings.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel stepped cautiously into the eerie stillness of the building as they scanned their surroundings for any sign of movement or potential danger. The silence hung heavy in the air, amplifying the tension that filled the space.

Dean made a swift hand gesture, signaling to Sam and Castiel that he would take one direction while they would explore another. With a shared understanding, the trio each ventured into different sections of the building.

Dean's footsteps echoed as he moved stealthily through the dimly lit corridors, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for any trace of Y/N or the presence of the demonic beings they suspected were involved. He gripped his weapon tightly, ready to defend himself or his loved ones if necessary.

Meanwhile, Sam and Castiel each proceeded through separate sets of hallways, their senses attuned to any disturbances or anomalies that might indicate the presence of their adversaries. Sam's gaze swept across every corner, his focus unwavering. Castiel's celestial awareness allowed him to perceive the subtlest disturbances.

 As they ventured deeper into the building, the tension continued to build. The ominous atmosphere seemed to close in around them, and every creak and groan of the old structure amplified their apprehension.

Y/N, breathing heavily and adrenaline coursing through her veins, straddled the motionless body of the demon she had just vanquished. Her eyes scanned the room, assessing the aftermath of the intense battle that had unfolded. Blood stains marked the floor, evidence of the fierce combat that had taken place.

With a trembling hand, Y/N wiped away the fresh blood from her split lip, the result of a lucky hit from the fallen demon. The taste of iron lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of the dangers she faced. But there was no time to dwell on the pain as she knew there were more adversaries to confront.

As she stood up, her body aching from the exertion, a creaking floorboard echoed behind her. Y/N's instincts kicked in, and she swiftly turned, her senses on high alert. Her eyes locked onto the figure of another demon, a malevolent glint in its eyes.

Reacting with lightning speed, Y/N brought up one of her sai, the gleaming weapon poised to block the demon's attack. Metal clashed with metal as the demon swung a pipe at her, the resulting impact resonating through the air. The ringing sound reverberated in the confined space, a testament to the intensity of their confrontation.

Y/N's muscles strained as she pushed against the force of the demon, her determination and training driving her forward. She twisted her body, her movements fluid and calculated, aiming to disarm the demon that stood before her. The demon stumbled back a few steps, momentarily losing his balance before regaining his composure. A sinister grin spread across his face, his eyes flickering to a solid red that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. What were Red-Eyed Demons doing here?

Before the demon could take another step towards her, three gunshots rang out, their echoes filling the air. Each bullet found its mark, striking the demon in the chest and causing him to collapse to the floor. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting to the doorway where the shots had originated.

Standing there, his pistol still raised was Sam Winchester. His eyes briefly met Y/N's, a mixture of relief and determination reflected in his gaze. At that moment, a wave of reassurance washed over Y/N's body.

Sam's eyes met Y/N's, no words were spoken. Determined and relieved, he made his way over to her, keeping a watchful eye on the fallen demon to ensure it wouldn't rise again.

Once he was close enough, Sam lowered his gun and enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace. His grip conveyed his relief, his worry, and his deep care for her well-being. As he held her, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/N nodded against his chest, her silent affirmation. The warmth and comfort of Sam's embrace provided a temporary respite from the fear and chaos that surrounded them.

Sam's grip loosened slightly as he pulled away, his eyes searching Y/N's face for any signs of distress. His voice was laced with regret as he apologized for letting her face this danger alone. He couldn't help but blame himself for not being there to protect her.

Y/N remained silent, her expression reflecting a mix of emotions. She understood Sam's guilt and appreciated his concern, but she couldn't find the words to console him. The weight of the situation weighed heavily on her, and self-blame consumed her thoughts.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” His determination was evident, his devotion to keeping her safe unwavering.

But Y/N shook her head, a hint of resignation in her voice.

"There's no way out," she admitted. "Every door, every window... They're sealed somehow. My father has finally got me right where he wants me. God, I feel like an idiot for walking into this trap and dragging you all here."

Sam's expression softened as he put his arm around her shoulder to pull her into his side, he rubbed his hand along her arm. “We’ll find a way out.”

Sam and Y/N swiftly exited the room, their hearts racing, as they heard gunshots and the chaos unfolding below. Y/N's worry for Dean was evident in the gasp that escaped her lips, her voice filled with concern as she called out his name.

Without hesitation, the two of them sprinted towards the stairs, their urgency pushing them forward. Their minds raced with the unknown, desperate to offer their support and assistance to their brother in need. Each step felt like an eternity as they descended, their hearts pounding in their chests.

But as they reached the ground floor, an eerie silence engulfed the once tumultuous scene. The echoes of gunshots and the commotion had dissipated, leaving only an unsettling stillness behind. Sam's grip on his pistol tightened, and Y/N's sai remained at the ready, both preparing for any potential threat that lay ahead.

Moving cautiously, Sam led the way, his senses heightened and alert. Each step was calculated, and his focus honed on detecting any signs of danger. Y/N mirrored his movements, her footsteps are light and deliberate, her eyes scanning the area for any subtle movement or indication of their enemy's presence.

Sam's instincts guided him toward the source of the gunshots, leading them through a maze of hallways and corridors. The air grew heavy with anticipation, both Sam and Y/N preparing themselves for what lay ahead.

Finally, they arrived at the source of the disturbance, their eyes widening as they took in the scene before them. The room was empty, devoid of any immediate threat or signs of a struggle. Confusion marred their expressions as they exchanged a quick glance, uncertainty clouding their thoughts.

Sam and Y/N cautiously surveyed the seemingly empty and pitch-black room, their senses on high alert. Their eyes strained to penetrate the darkness, searching for any signs of movement or threat. Suddenly, the overhead lights flickered to life, illuminating the room and revealing Y/N's father standing in the center, seemingly alone.

As the figure of her father stood before them, a mixture of emotions surged through Y/N. Fear, anger, and deep-rooted pain intermingled, causing her heart to race and her hands to tremble. Sam instinctively raised his pistol, ready to defend them against this formidable foe.

But in a chilling display, one by one, several other demons materialized beside Y/N's father, surrounding him in a sinister formation. The room was now filled with a nefarious presence, their eyes glinting with malice, and a twisted grin etched upon her father's face.

Y/N's heart sank, panic gripping her once again as began to recognize more and more of the demons who appeared, their faces unchanged since she last seen them all. Her nightmares had come to life, her greatest fears personified before her very eyes. The presence of these demons, these men only added to the overwhelming sense of dread that enveloped her. Then she watched all their eyes flicker to solid red.

Her father's voice filled the room, dripping with a sickening satisfaction.

"Thank you all for joining us," he proclaimed, his voice laced with malevolence. Y/N's blood ran cold, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of the threat they now faced.

Sam's grip tightened on his pistol, determination burning in his eyes. He refused to let fear to overpower them, his focus unwavering as he aimed at Y/N's father. "We won't let you hurt her," he declared, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Y/N's father, the source of their torment, chuckled mockingly, relishing in the power he held over them. He turned his gaze towards Sam, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of knowledge.

"Oh, Sam Winchester, I am well aware of who you and your brother are," Y/N's father taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your arrival was sooner than I expected, but fear not, I always have a contingency plan."

With a snap of his fingers, another demon materialized by his side, holding a knife perilously close to Dean's throat. Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the dire situation unfold before him. He called out to his brother, shock, and concern lacing his voice.

"Dean!" Sam's voice trembled with a mix of fear and anger.

"Got a little jumped, Sammy. But I'm fine, just a scratch." Dean, his face a mix of apology and determination.

As Y/N's wide, terrified eyes locked with Dean's, a rush of memories flooded her mind. The potential scene of Dean's life being snuffed out before her eyes played like a haunting replay of the past, triggering an overwhelming surge of fear and anguish within her. It was reminiscent of the night her mother had been taken from her, the same person responsible for both tragedies.Y/N's body trembled uncontrollably, she couldn't bear the thought of losing another person she held dear, especially in such a cruel and familiar manner.

Dean, perceptive as ever, caught a glimpse of the sheer terror reflected in Y/N's eyes. He knew all too well the trauma she had endured, as he and Sam had witnessed her mother's tragic death when they fought against the Soulweaver. Dean's smile, once a mask to protect her, wavered for a moment as he sensed the depth of her distress.

Y/N's vulnerability was laid bare before him, and he couldn't ignore the pain etched on her face. He understood the magnitude of her fear, knowing that the memories and emotions tied to her mother's death had resurfaced. At that moment, Dean realized that his attempt to downplay the situation wouldn't be enough to ease her anxiety.

“Hey, Y/N.” Dean tried to get her attention to focus, though when he spoke the demon holding him jerked Dean back and pressed the knife slightly harder into his throat. Dean didn’t care though. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Hearing Dean's attempt to comfort Y/N only fueled her father's amusement. His chilling chuckle echoed through the room, taunting them all. Y/N's father took a step closer, relishing in the fear he instilled within his daughter.

"You know, Y/N," he began, his voice dripping with sinister delight, "your mother once said something quite similar." The memories of her mother's words haunted Y/N, intensifying the gravity of the situation.

Y/N's father's voice grew more commanding as he made his offer. "All I want is you, Y/N. Join me willingly, and the Winchesters can walk out of here unharmed. It's that simple."

Dean, unable to contain his anger, shouted in defiance from his restraints. "Bullshit! We're not leaving without her."

Sam, his brow furrowed with determination, directed his attention to Y/N's father. "What do you want with her?" he demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

Y/N's father's eyes glinted with a mix of malevolence and something else, something Sam couldn't quite discern. He studied Y/N with a possessive gaze before finally answering. "She's special, Samuel. Special in ways you can't even fathom. I have plans for her. Plans that involve unlocking her true potential."

Y/N's heart felt heavy as she made her decision, torn between the conflicting emotions pulling her in different directions. Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet Dean's eyes. This moment shattered the stare they held since Dean first appeared in the room.

"No!" Dean's voice rang out with anguish and disbelief, his heart breaking at the sight before him. He couldn't bear to see Y/N surrender to her father, to give herself up for their safety.

Y/N dropped her weapons with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the room as her resolve wavered. She sank to her knees in submission to her father's demands, her heart aching.

Sam, his mind struggling to process the situation unfolding before him, stared in disbelief. He couldn't comprehend Y/N's decision at first, but when the realization struck, he stepped forward, determined to intervene. His hand reached out to grasp Y/N's arm, to pull her back to her feet.

But before Sam could reach her, Y/N's father waved his hand with a flick of his wrist. An unseen force sent Sam hurtling through the air, crashing into the nearest wall before landing on the ground, momentarily stunned.

“Sam!” Dean's voice shook with concern as he called out to his brother, his rage for both Sam and Y/N’s safety consuming him.

“Well done, my dear. You've made the right choice.” Y/N's father chuckled with twisted satisfaction, admiring his daughter's compliance. He flicked his hand, signaling his demonic minions to take action. Two demons materialized behind Y/N, their presence chilling and menacing. One demon gripped her shoulders tightly, while the other approached with a large shackle adorned with symbols to seal her abilities.

The demon fastened the shackle around Y/N's neck, the chain leading from it to his hand for control. As the weight of the shackles settled upon her.

“Now then. Since you’ve been such a good girl, I will let you in on a little secret. I’m not really your father.” A malevolent grin spread across his face.

Y/N's eyes remain fixed on the ground, her expression unreadable. Meanwhile, Dean and Sam exchange bewildered glances, their confusion growing.

“Alright, enough with the games! If you're not her father, then who the hell are you?” Dean angrily demanded answers.

“Ah, Dean Winchester, always so impatient. Well, you see. Long ago, Y/N's mother, in her true form, descended upon our world disguised as a beautiful woman. She sought refuge in my village, and I offered her shelter and protection. It was love at first sight between us.” The man smirked as he spoke.

“Ah yes, love. We shared a connection, a bond. But little did I know, she was already with child when she arrived. She convinced me that the child was mine, and I was ecstatic about becoming a father. However, when the child was born, it became evident that she was not human.” His voice became more and more bitter as he spoke before it turned into complete angry dripping with betrayal. “The monster deceived me, lied to me about the true nature of her existence and our child's. I couldn't bear to let that treacherous bloodline continue. Their existence had to come to an end.”

Silence hangs heavy in the room as the truth sinks in. Y/N's father stands there, his expression filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction and vindication, while Dean's fury intensifies.

“Oh, but hunting Y/N and her mother was a delight! A thrilling chase that lasted for years.  We all relish in the hunt much more than you can imagine.” He gestures towards the demons in the room.

“What did they do to deserve this?” Sam asked as he picked himself up off the ground, his non-dominant arm wrapping around himself as pain shot through his side.

 “Deserve? My dear boy, their very presence taints this world. They are abominations, creatures that shouldn't exist.” The man laughed.

“Open your eyes! You're so blinded by your hate that you can't see you're doing their bidding. You're working for the very creatures you want to kill!” Dean yelled at the man.

With a wide grin the man looked to Dean. “Oh, Dean, you always were a sharp one. But let me correct you. I don't work for them; they work for me.” His eyes then became solid yellow.

Sam's expression hardened as he processed the man's twisted revelation. His eyes narrowed, filled with a mix of anger and determination. "You made a deal with….," Sam stated, his voice laced with contempt. "You think you're some righteous judge, but you're nothing more than a pawn in their game."

The man chuckled, his yellow eyes gleaming with malevolence. "You can't comprehend the power I possess now. I am the judge, the executioner, and the savior of this world."

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he shot back, "You're just a monster hiding behind excuses. Killing innocent people doesn't make you righteous. It makes you a coward."

The man's face contorted with rage, his voice rising. "I am no coward! I am the instrument of justice, delivering punishment to those who deserve it."

Suddenly the demon holding Dean let out a blood-curdling scream, his body convulsing as flashes of blinding light burst from his eyes and mouth. As the light faded, the demon's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, revealing Castiel standing behind him, his angel blade in hand.

With a determined look in his eyes, Dean swiftly reached for his Angel blade, its cool touch reassuring in his grip. He lunged forward, driving the blade deep into Y/N's father's chest, the sharp steel piercing through flesh and bone.

"You think you're doing some righteous cleansing?" Dean's voice resonated with a mix of anger and conviction. "You're just a monster, no different than the ones we've hunted and killed. And we're gonna put an end to your reign."

 However, Y/N's father simply grinned in response, seemingly unfazed by Dean's attack. It sent a shiver down Dean's spine, a cold realization creeping in. Something was terribly wrong. Suddenly, Dean felt an intense force grab hold of him, his shirt tightening around his chest. Helplessly, he was lifted off the ground, his body suspended in mid-air.

Dean's eyes widened with both surprise and alarm as he was swiftly hurled across the room, crashing into the wall beside Sam. The impact rattled his bones, leaving him momentarily winded and disoriented.

Sam rushed to Dean's side, concern etched on his face. "Dean, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with urgency.

Dean groaned, pushing himself up from the floor. "Yeah, just a little bruised," he replied, his voice strained but determined.

Castiel swung his blade towards the man, aiming to sever his head from his body and put an end to his vile reign. But as the blade descended, the room was filled with a chilling silence. Castiel's movements abruptly halted, frozen in place by a simple raise of the man’s hand.

A wicked grin spread across the man's face, his voice dripping with a dark amusement. "You must have forgotten who I am," he taunted, his tone filled with arrogance. "I am a child of Lilith herself!"

The room now stood divided, Sam and Dean on one side, their eyes filled with determination and concern for Y/N, who remained kneeling on the ground in chains, caught between the clashing forces. On the other side stood Y/N's father, surrounded by his demonic companions, reveling in his power.

Amidst the echoing laughter of Y/N's father, a chilling sound cuts through the air like wolves in the distance. First one, then two, the howls grow louder, their mournful cries carried by the wind piercing the darkness. The intensity of the howls grows as more join in, creating a haunting chorus that sends shivers down the spines of all present.

Dean breaks the silence, his voice laced with a mix of dread and disdain. "Sam, tell me we're not hearing what I think we're hearing."

Sam's face tenses, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. With a nod, he confirms Dean's suspicion. "Yeah, Dean. Those are Hellhounds.”

“I hate Hellhounds," Dean clenches his fists, his voice filled with memories of past encounters.

As if responding to Dean's words, the windows on either side of the room exploded inward, sending glass shards flying. Though there are no visible animals, the room fills with the menacing growls and barks of the Hellhounds.

Y/N's father, once arrogant and confident, now wears a look of displeasure as he witnesses the unexpected turn of events. The demon at his side, sensing the imminent danger, starts to retreat slowly, eyes widening in fear. The hulking forms of the Hellhounds were visible to only them, their fierce eyes locked onto their prey.

Snarls and growls fill the air, punctuated by the horrifying sounds of flesh being torn apart. The demons, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, either vanish in a desperate attempt to escape or find themselves ruthlessly brought down to the floor, their bodies reduced to shreds by the relentless Hellhounds.

Sam and Dean stand at the ready, their weapons clenched tightly in their hands, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger, though they know they won't see it coming. However, to their surprise, they find themselves untouched by the Hellhounds' onslaught. The supernatural beasts seem to focus their attention solely on the demons, leaving Sam and Dean unharmed, yet wary.

Y/N, still in chains but unscathed, watches the chaos unfold with a mix of relief and awe. The Hellhounds, her unexpected saviors, move with precision and ferocity, targeting the demons surrounding her. The demons, once arrogant and powerful, now cower in fear as they are torn apart by the relentless hounds.

Amidst the chaos, Y/N locks eyes with her father, who wears a twisted smile of both displeasure and wicked satisfaction. His words echo in the room, promising a future encounter and a watchful eye that never sleeps. With a final glance, Y/N's father vanishes, leaving behind an eerie silence that contrasts with the lingering echoes of the Hellhounds' snarls.

The room is now filled with a sense of both relief and unease. Y/N's immediate danger has passed, thanks to the unexpected intervention of the Hellhounds. Yet, the knowledge that her father still lurks in the shadows, vowing to return, hangs heavy in the air.

The room falls into an eerie silence as the last remnants of the demonic presence dissipate, leaving only the lingering presence of the Hellhounds. Y/N remains calm in the midst of their presence.

As one of the Hellhounds approaches Y/N, its hot breath blowing loose hairs around her face, the tension in the room heightens. But instead of fear, Y/N addresses the Hellhound with a surprising familiarity.

"Hello Juliet," she says, her voice steady and without a trace of apprehension.

Sam and Dean exchange puzzled glances, their confusion evident.

“Did you say Juliet?” Sam asked the recognition dawns upon them—the name of Crowley's favorite Hellhound. The familiarity between Y/N and the Hellhound allows them to relax slightly, realizing that they may not be in immediate danger.

Dean, ever the skeptic, raises an eyebrow but keeps his guard up, remaining cautious. Castiel, observing the interaction, remains silent but maintains a watchful presence, ready to act if needed. The Hellhound, Juliet, seems to respond to Y/N's words, her demeanor softening as her menacing growls transform into a more subdued sound.

As Sam and Dean cautiously make their way toward Y/N, their attention is suddenly drawn to the sound of a creaking metal door behind them. They turn to see the massive entrance of the building swinging open, revealing Crowley, the King of Hell, standing there with his characteristic air of confidence. He casually stands in the doorway, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets.

“Hello, boys.” Crowley greeted. “Kitten.” He looked to Y/N with a nod.

Dean turned to Sam, motioning to him to help Y/N. Sam nodded with concern etched on his face and approached Y/N to inspect her shackles and see if he could find a way to free her. Y/N looks at Sam with a mix of gratitude and weariness.

Meanwhile, Dean strides purposefully towards Crowley, his anger palpable. He runs a hand over his face, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. His voice is laced with frustration as he addresses Crowley. "What the hell were you thinking, Crowley?" Dean demands, his tone edged with anger. "Sending Y/N alone after that... that lunatic."

"Dean, I swear, I had no idea who that man was. I was just trying to protect my own investments and collect what Y/N owed me. It was a simple exchange of services, no foul play intended." Crowley admits in all seriousness, his face bearing a rare expression of sincerity.

Dean takes a deep breath, his anger gradually dissipating as he considers Crowley's explanation.

"Well you showed up just in time, Crowley," Dean concedes, his voice softer but still filled with underlying frustration.

As Dean and Crowley engage in conversation, Castiel quietly approaches them, a solemn expression on his face.

“That is my doing actually.” Castiel sighed.

Dean's gaze shifts to Castiel, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Cas, you? You called Crowley?" Dean asks, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Yes.” Castiel confesses, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance. Castiel meets Dean's gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and reservation. "There are certain things I would rather not discuss, but I assure you, it was to ensure Y/N's safety."

“Yeah.. Alright.” Dean nods his head.

Sam knelt down in front of Y/N, his eyes filled with concern as he gently asked,

"Are you Alright?"

 "Yes." Y/N's voice was quiet and hoarse as she replied.

 "Alright, well  I'm going to remove the shackle around your neck.” Sam’s eyes were filled with heartbreak as he took in the sight of her.

Y/N nodded in approval. Sam carefully moved her hair aside, searching for the lock that held the shackle closed. His fingers traced the intricate mechanism as he focused on picking the lock, his movements steady and deliberate.

“Sam, I’m ready to go home.” Y/N’s voice was soft and broken as she tried to hold back tears as her stress and anxiety washed away leaving her feeling tired and drained.

“Yeah, don’t worry we’ll be home soon.” Sam looked up at her, his eyes filled with empathy.

Sam was successful in removing the shackles from Y/N's neck, carefully handling them as he set them aside. He reached out his hand, offering it to Y/N, who took it gratefully. With Sam's support, she managed to rise to her feet, her legs still shaky from the ordeal.

As Y/N stood upright, her gaze shifted to Dean and Castiel who had approached them. Her heart ached with the need to apologize to Dean for…. everything. But before she could utter a word, Dean enveloped her in a tight hug, pulling her close to him. Y/N's voice caught in her throat feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence.

Dean spoke softly, his voice filled with relief and genuine concern, "Thank God you’re alright.”.

Y/N remained in his embrace for a few more moments, finding solace and reassurance in his strong arms. With one hand, she discreetly took hold of the end of Dean's jacket and touched it, a small gesture that spoke volumes between them. Dean could feel her grip on his jacket, and at that moment, no words were needed just unspoken gratitude and reassurance.

During the six-hour drive, Y/N rode with Dean in the Impala while Sam took the wheel of her Corvette, accompanied by Castiel. The atmosphere in the car was filled with a mix of exhaustion, relief, and lingering tension. The radio softly played a familiar tune, providing a subtle backdrop to the silence that enveloped them.

Dean occasionally stole glances at Y/N, his concern evident in his eyes. He wanted to ensure she was alright, but he respected the silent agreement of just being there for each other in the quiet solitude of the car.

Entering the bunker, Sam's concern for Y/N was evident; her exhaustion palpable.

"Y/N, you've been through a lot. Why don't you go take a bath or something, try to relax, and get some rest?" Sam suggests as he genitally puts his hand on her back, rubbing it slightly.

Y/N nodded in agreement and quietly made her way toward the solitude of the living quarter.

"We need to find out more about that guy.” Sam addressed Dean as Y/N disappeared down the hallway, their eyes meeting in a shared understanding.

They both knew that the events they had just experienced had left an indelible mark. The boys make their way to the familiar confines of the bunker's library. Castiel followed closely behind.

Once settled in the library, Dean took the lead, his voice steady as he began to relay the information he had acquired from Crowley.

“Crowley had no idea. He didn't even know about his connection to Y/N or that he was a demon." Dean was pacing the library as he spoke.

“But he's not just any demon, Dean. He's a yellow eye, one of the high-ranking ones. Like Azazel."

The room fell into a momentary silence, the weight of their shared history and the menace represented by yellow-eyed demons sinking in. Sam and Dean knew all too well the havoc and sorrow that had been caused in their lives. Azazel, a yellow-eyed demon had killed their own mother.

"How is it possible that Crowley didn't know about such a high-ranking demon?" Castiel had spoken up to break the silence.

"I don't know, Cas. It's strange. Crowley seemed genuinely surprised. He said he would look into it." Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Did you talk to Crowley about Y/N's debt?" Sam turned to look at Dean with concern.

"Yeah, I did. It's a sore spot, but her deal with Crowley is complete. He doesn't have any hold on her anymore." Dean nodded.

“What do we do now?” Castiel would ask.

“Well.” Sam would let out a heavy sigh. “Y/N is a target now so we need to keep a close eye on her and stay on guard,” Sam admitted though he knew she wouldn’t like the idea of being watched.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean exchange determined looks, ready to face the challenges ahead and uncover the secrets surrounding Y/N and the new mysterious yellow-eyed demon.

Chapter End

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