#sam winchester x original character

[werdlewrites]

Fix This (Sam Winchester x Reader)

Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Early spoilers, death, big sad. A re-write of an 8 year old post I did.

Word count: 816 v small dabble

She never seemed to have trouble with distance. Traveling for days, and completely content in simply watching the world fly past the windows as she was more or less forced to relocate for the umpteenth time with her companions. Always eager to learn something new about wherever she was staying, even if it was only for a short while.

There was acceptance in being days upon weeks away from her family and that old ranch home she was raised in. No matter how greatly she missed their familiar voices and the silly games they all would play on the Holidays, it was all a tolerable ache.

She could handle a lot of things, but not this.

Standing at the opposite end of the dark, eerily empty hotel room, her gaze lingers on the tense muscles of his back as he sat slouched forward just at the edge of the bed. His eyes dark and heavy-lidded from sorrow, pain, and a clouded mind that refused to acknowledge anything beyond his hurt.

Despite their closeness within the same room, the two couldn’t have been further apart. That little space between them seemed to stretch on for miles, a hallucination - as if you could chase after him and never manage to close the gap. And she wanted to chase.

She wants to reach out, break this painful silence they’ve been encased within for what seemed like an eternity. She wanted to fix him - to fix this. Take the pieces of the entire mess and put it all back together somehow. Make it so he had never agreed to follow his brother down this path all those years ago, though it had been for a good cause. But how was anyone to know that this would happen? That a good cause could end with such heartache?

How were they to know that this young man would be forced to watch his father give up his life for his oldest son, who in turn, gave up his own for this disheveled mess in front of her.

Save John and go back to your normal life. That was the deal, yet here the duo were. There was hardly any sleep to be had with a rare stop for a bite to eat as they searched in desperation for any way to bring his brother back, and the lack of answers only made him worse. Sam was falling apart before the girls eyes, day by day and there was no stopping it. The man she loved was becoming a mere shadow of himself.

She takes a sharp breath, bracing herself for the wave of emotions to soon come crashing into her, pulling herself away from the faded and peeling wall only to walk right past the empty and neatly kept bed that he would have slept in, ignoring the chill that danced through her spine at the thought of seeing his 6’3” form tangled up in the sheets. Completely lost in his much happier dreams.

“Sam,” his name falls from her lips, vanishing into the darkness and going unnoticed. Not even the skin to skin contact was acknowledged, as if they had become ghosts to one another.

It was with a squeeze on his shoulder that had finally caused his body to relax and slowly he had turned to her, the sight of tears threatening to spill over with a rosy tipped nose had her breath halted within her chest, the crushing tsunami of hopelessness settling deep into her bones.

His lip begins to quiver as he tries to speak, though he hadn’t been given the chance as she moves around the bed, standing just between his parted knees to hold him close. Her fingers roam through unwashed hair, cradling him as he leans in against her - surrendering, letting emotions and fatigue weigh him down to the point where his arms are unable to reach out in return. They stay in the moment, basking in the silence until there is a sudden tremble as her hand runs along his back, a small sob breaks through just after and she swears her heart is being held in an iron grip, tightening with every gasp of air.

He held her then. Strong arms wrapped around her thighs, pulling the girl impossibly close as he now began to imagine a life where he had to do this all on his own. He was grateful she hadn’t left him through all of this torment - grateful he didn’t have to be alone. And yet, he did feel alone without his brother at his side.“It’ll be okay,” she says, body folding forward to place gentle kisses along his mess of hair, swaying him softly from side to side as he continues to dampen her sweatshirt with fallen tears

“We’ll find a way to fix this, Sam. We always do.”

#sam winchester #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x original character #dean winchester #supernatural angst #supernatural imagines #spn imagines

[hogwartsalumni08-slytherin]

Innocent And Sweet

My name is Holly Plake; and I am thirty-three years old. I am currently dating the younger Winchester brother, Sam, whom is seven years older than me. He is forty. His big brother, Dean, is eleven years older than him, which, means he is forty-four.

Yeah, sure I've kissed and made-out with multiple guys. Even gave a few guys oral; and, let those few finger me. However, I have never had sexual intercourse and anal sex. I always thought I was going to save sex for marriage; but once my family died because of a group of demons my idea of the world drastically changed. Dean and Sam saved me from this group of demons. Soon after that, I started dating Sam regardless of the age difference between the two of us. You see I usually dated guys my age or a couple of years younger. I always thought that I would only date guys three years younger to three years older that seemed like a good age bracket at the time.

Sam Winchester changed my entire perspective of the world. His 6'4" compared to my 5'6". His hazel blue eyes compared to my dark brown eyes. His light brown hair to my dark brown hair. When I told him that I was a virgin, he respected me and said, "I will wait until you are ready." 

One night after we fought off this nest of vampires, Dean starts driving us back to the Men of Letters bunker in his 1967 Chevrolet Impala. He cranks up Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In (The Flesh Failures) by the 5th Dimension. I laugh and Sam asks, "What is it?" I say, "I remember my dad playing this song in the car. I always thought the song was a little bit weird but it reminds me of jamming out to songs in his car." As Dean continues singing off-key, I whisper into Sam's ear, "I am ready." Sam mouths, "Are you sure?" I nod and Sam gives me the biggest grin. Dean asks, "Everything alright, Sammy?" Sam rolls his eyes, "Yes, Jerk." Dean says, "Bitch." I laugh and say, "You two should have your own comedy show it can be called Loser Squared." Dean smirks and says, "Love ya too." Sam says, "My girl, Dean." Dean laughs.

We finally make it back to the bunker. I think to myself, "I am so nervous. Sam has had sex before with multiple women. I am so inexperienced. What if he doesn't love me anymore after we hookup?" Dean asks, "Anything on your mind, Hol?" I say, "Oh just thinking about how I am going to shower up after this hunt. I feel gross. Sam, wanna join me?" Sam smirks and says, "Sure thing, baby." I walk away toward my bathroom swaying my hips side to side. I overhear Dean say to Sam, "Damn. Holly has got all the curves in all the right places. She must be like a D-cup and she has a butt that matches it." Sam says, "Shut up, Dean. Go to the bar and get a beer." Dean snorts and says, "I am leaving now."

Sam meets me back in my bedroom and bathroom in the bunker. He whispers in my ear, "I love how innocent and sweet you are, baby girl. It means that I get to teach you everything about sex." I blush and ask, "Is it normal to be this nervous?" Sam chuckles softly and says, "Yes it is, Holly." I smile. 

We slowly start kissing and making out on the bed. Then we both start taking off the clothes off the other person. I rub my right hand across his anti-possession tattoo; and, Sam looks down to wear I got mine which is on my pelvic bone. I smile at him and say, "I am ready, handsome." Sam smiles and starts leaving a trail of kiss down my neck; and, then he starts sucking my boobs. I let out small moans. Sam asks, "Do you like that?" I nod. He continues moving down my body with kisses. Then, he starts eating me out. Vaginal fluid starts oozing out of me. Sam says, "So, wet. For me?" I whisper, "Only for you." Sam whispers, "I am going to ease my cock up your cat." I look down and I'm in shock. Sam's cock must be eight inches long. I ask, "How is that all going to fit?" Sam laughs and says, "Don't worry, baby girl. It will fit." He slowly eases his cock up my vagina. I tense up some. Sam asks, "Are you okay?" I say, "I am. Keep going. Thrust me and fill me up." Sam smirks and starts thrusting back and forth. My moans keep getting louder and louder. There was a little bit of blood that starts coating Sam's cock. I say, "Sorry." Sam says, "Don't apologize. I am glad that I am your first." I smile. Around fifteen minutes later, we both reach our climaxes at the exact same time. Sam rolls off of me and says, "Wow." I ask, "What is it?" Sam says, "That was the first time ever that my climax has been in unison with the girl's climax." I say, "I've waited so long for sex. I wondered if it was going to be worth it." Sam asks, "Was it worth it?" I say, "Yes it was. It was worth all the waiting because my first time was with you, Sam. The guy that I want to spend the rest of my life with." Sam kisses my forehead and says, "I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. I know that I don't have a ring. But, do you want to commit to be together and never breakup?" I say in my southern accent, "Hell yes." Sam laughs and says, "That Texas-Alabama accent combination is so sexy to me." I blush and say, "Well good because you are stuck with it." We both fall asleep. Sam wraps his arm around me and I cuddle up next to him.

The next morning, I hear Dean come into my room and ask, "Where's Sammy, Holly?" I cover up my body; and, Sam says, "I am right here, Dean." Dean says, "Oh wow. Sorry you two. So, you two finally had sex." Sam looks to me; and, I say, "Dean, Sam was nice enough to wait until I was ready to have sex. I was saving myself before marriage before the demons killed my family. Since I began hunting with y'all and dating Sam, I realized that marriage is just on a piece of paper. Sam is the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don't know I could get killed today or next week or two years or fifty years from now in a hunt. All I know is is that I hope that I will be with Sam for the rest of my life." Dean looks shocked. Sam says, "Dean, I feel the same way. I feel the strongest connection with Holly than I did with anyone else including Jess." 

Dean says, "Well I guess that means welcome to the family, Holly." I say, "Thank you, Dean. So what about you and Castiel?" Sam smirks as Dean blushes. Dean says, "Oh, I don't know, Holly. I have had more one night stands with women and some with men. I don't think I could ever be enough for him. Cas deserves so much better than me." I say, "Dean, any woman or man would be lucky to have you. You raised Sam into the wonderful man that he is today. You protect us and save more lives than I could ever dream to. Definite plus is that you can cook." Sam laughs. I roll my eyes and say, "Don't sell yourself short, Dean." Dean nods. Castiel pops up behind Dean. Dean says, "Cas, get out of my ass." Castiel blushes. Dean says, "Cas, we have known each other for a long time. I am just getting the courage to say that I love you. I understand if you don't feel the same way but..." Castiel interrupts him and says, "About damn time, ass-butt." Dean looks surprised. 

I slip on Sam's plaid shirt. I roll out of bed and start walking but it looks like I am hobbling. Sam asks, "What are you doing?" I say, "I am going to start the coffee pot." Castiel asks, "Why is Holly hobbling?" Dean and Sam both turn bright red. I say, "Cas, I lost my virginity last night." Cas asks, "To Sam?" I say, "No to Dean." Dean and Sam both start snort laughing. Cas asks, "What?" I say, "I was being sarcastic, Cas. Of course I lost my virginity to Sam. Dean is all yours." Cas nods. 

I walk into the kitchen and I see Jack looking at me. I say, "Before you say anything, Jack. I lost my virginity." Jack nods and asks, "Does it really hurt the first time?" I say, "Well for me at first it just felt a little bit awkward. I guess it depends on whom you lose your virginity to. Sam was very easy and soft with me while I adjusted to his size. So, no it didn't hurt for me." I feel someone hugging me from behind. I turn around and see Sam. I smile and he kisses my forehead. Dean and Cas walk in holding hands. Jack says, "About time my two dads are together." Dean and Cas laugh. Dean says, "Oh your Uncle Sammy finally got together with Aunt Holly last night. Looks like you owe me five bucks, kid." Jack reluctantly handed Dean five dollars. Sam says, "Seriously? You bet on us, Dean?" Dean laughs and says, "Of course." I roll my eyes and I say, "Coffee is ready. Dean, can you scramble the eggs and cook the bacon? I am making Sam and I our Southwest Vegan Breakfast Skillet." Dean nods and says, "You two are perfect together." Sam and I say in unison, "Thank you." 

#supernatural #original character #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #sam winchester smut #sam Winchester x original character #Destiel #bisexual Dean Winchester #Bisexual Castiel #Sam Winchester x original female character

[spnhunter4life]

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic. 

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon. 

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted. 

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be. 

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again. 

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary. 

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside. 

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean. 

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name. 

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice. 

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh. 

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground. 

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife. 

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster. 

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious. 

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-” 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused. 

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves. 

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone. 

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve. 

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.” 

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm. 

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense. 

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed. 

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile. 

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?” 

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care. 

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time. 

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it. 

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#not so bad #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #confessed feelings #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x original character

[noweakergirl]

dare I say... superior trope

#lover gone dark #p.s. for those who don't know sasusaku actually has a happy ending I just love angst #(another fun fact! in the original rots idea padme was meant to kill anakin) #the first and the last quote is from vampire academy (if you know you know) #at first I wanted to make it all about my favorite characters who either went dark or were nearly there (like sam winchester) #but then I decided to go down 'if your beloved goes to the dark side you must save them by either bringing them back or killing them' road #me shipping sasusaku since the age of 10 and then discovering anakin when I was 20 has brought us where we are today btw #being a within temptation stan as a child didn't help either #I love me a story of a good man who has too much power and gets corrupted on his way to revenge mmmm delicious #I don't know how to tag this post cause it's a bit niche but I hope my soulmate people will find it <3 #sasusaku #sasuke x sakura #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #pro sasusaku #(obviously) #star wars #star wars prequels #anakin skywalker #anidala #vampire academy #otp: irreplaceable partner

[winchesterfanatic1967]

The L Word

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,273 

Warnings- Season 5 spoilers

You awoke with a deep gasp, your heart pounding and eyes wide. Sitting up and looking around the room you realize that you’re ok. Sam was asleep on the motel bed next to you, while Dean slept peacefully beside you. His chest rose and fell steadily, and you were more than grateful that you didn’t wake either of the boys up. 

This hunt had been particularly difficult, and you knew the boys were exhausted and they needed their sleep. You were also exhausted, but the nightmares that usually occurred stopped you from being able to sleep. 

The truth is, you were defeated. You and the Winchester brothers were working non stop and it was beginning to be one hunt after the other without a break and casualty after casualty with more lives lost than saved. It was kind of Sam’s fault that the world was coming to an end, but he received so much backlash from everyone you figured he’s been punished enough. 

You couldn’t help but sigh softly and buried your face into your hands, then running your fingers through your scalp in frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried desperately to hold them back. All you wanted to do was sleep and get some well needed rest. 

“Y/n? S’matter?” 

You looked to your right to see Dean looking at you with squinty and sleepy eyes. Guilt coursed through you. “M’sorry De. Go back to sleep I’m alright.”

“What happened? Another nightmare?”

You look at him confused but he knew you better than you knew yourself. “We share a bed at every motel we stay in, and when we aren’t staying in a motel we’re living in the car. If you think I don’t know you by now or picked up on the fact that you’re not alright, you’re crazy.”

You quietly sigh, and look to your arms that were holding onto your legs. “You’re right. M’not alright. I haven’t been for some time.”

“I know.” He says teasingly with a smile playing onto his lips and yours did the same. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,-” You shook your head. “But..I really should.”

“I know I’m not the best person to talk to or get advice from. Hell, I bottle everything up and explode when I can’t take it anymore, but take it from me. Talking about your issues is way better than letting your mental health go down the drain…”

“I just…I feel like a failure. We’ve lost so many people in the last few years and with everything going on with the apocalypse… I feel like were losing more casualites than actually saving lives..”

The way he was looking at you was making your heart melt. His complete attention was on you, no distractions and every word you spoke you felt more and more comfortable expressing your feelings to him. You should’ve talked to him more, but you were stubborn just like him. 

The truth is, your heart belonged to Dean and it always will. You’ve had your fair share of hookups with him and you knew that’s all you would ever get. Let’s face it, hunters don’t get a happy ending and he made it perfectly clear that it was a friends with benefits relationship. 

Everytime he got close to someone it ended up in hurt and death. It’s the reason why he and Cassie never worked out, or why he had to walk away from Lisa. He knew he would never be able to get anything real and that’s why it was easy with you. No feelings or strings attached and you knew about the Supernatural so you understood the life. 

Everything went well except you broke the number one rule of your friends with benefits relationship. You grew real feelings. Of course you wouldn’t say anything to Dean, because having him as a friend was better than not having him as anything at all. 

“I just… I don’t know how to move forward. Trying so hard to save the world everyday and knowing it’s all on our shoulders is putting so much pressure on me. The clock is ticking and we’re running out of time. Jo and Ellen are dead because of us, Bobby can’t walk because of us…at his point I feel as if the world would be a better place without me” Your eyes welled up with tears and you were desperately trying to push them down. 

“Hey hey hey, c’mere…” He cooed gently and pulled you into him. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his torso while burying your face into the crock of his neck. 

He felt the tears sliding against his skin and his heart broke at the silent sobs that racked your body. He was so in love with you and it terrified him. He fell in love with you at the first hello. His past relationships never worked out but he couldn’t hide his adoration for you. He didn’t want to see you get hurt or to lose you so he figured innocent flirting and hooking up would do no harm. 

You meant way more to him than just a hookup. He was scared as fuck to tell you especially now. If he told you how he really felt knowing his luck you would die on him tomorrow. 

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are..” He says softly. “The world would be a worse place without you in it. It would most likely already be destroyed if you weren’t here. No, this isn’t easy and it takes a toll on me too every single day. But I know for a damn fact without you, me, Sam and Bobby..it.. It wouldn’t be half the world it is. No, things aren’t the best with Bobby but unfortunately in our line of work it’s unpredictable and anything can happen at anytime. I really thought I would be dead by now and here I am at 30 alive and kicking. We’re doing our best and I can’t promise that any of us are going to make it through it, but I know for a fact we’re going to stop the apocalypse. If we go down, then we’re going to go down together and swinging…”

Your silent cries turned into tears, which eventually turned into occasional sniffles as he spoke softly. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel better. “Thank you…” You sniffle quietly and he wraps his arms around you tighter. 

“I wish our lives were different sweetheart, because I would love to be normal with you…white picket fence with a dog and some kids..”

You look up at him and the amount of vulnerability in his features made your heart flutter. “I want that more than anything too De…I have strong feelings for you and it scares the shit out of me…”

“I, I feel the same way. I want to use the L word so much…because you deserve nothing more than to hear it every day…but I can’t. M’ scared to shit that if I tell you you’ll be taken from me and I can’t…” He took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay De. I understand.” 

“C’mere.”

You snuggled deep into him as much as you could while burying your face into his neck once more. He placed a kiss to the top of your head while wrapping his arms around you snugly. 

“If somehow we do make it out of this…things will be different. I promise.” He spoke and now you had a reason to want to make it through this and live.

#dean winchester #dean angst #dean winchester angst #sam and dean #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x reader fluff #dean x reader imagine #dean x reader angst #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #dean winchester x original female character #supernatural spn #supernatural #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #Sam Winchester #fluff #fluffy #dean fluff #dean winchester fluff #angsty #angst

[pascaloverx]

Dean Winchester Masterlist

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

AO3LINK

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

#supernatural masterlist #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #mary winchester #sam winchester #castiel #john winchester #supernatural characters #female reader #original character #enemies to lovers #future smut #jensen ackles characters

[laurel-finch]

'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch10: Winds of Change

Summary: Returning to the Winchesters does not meet expectations... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Alcohol. Arguing. Normal Supernatural things. Another ridiculously long chapter, my b. Word Count: 8209 Recommended Song: Winds of Change -- Scorpions Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

I gnawed on my lower lip as I jammed another number into my phone, praying that this time one of the brother’s would pick up. I had a handful of Dean’s phone numbers and only two of Sam’s, but I knew they had more that they hadn’t felt the need to share with me. It all came down to which phone they were actively using for the case they were on. There was no consistency with them.

I glared down at the number I knew to be linked to Dean’s ATF persona. There was a chance he would answer, but it was slim. I really needed a better way to get ahold of the brothers. I sighed and hoped I would have better luck with Sam as I dialed one of his numbers next.

After six long rings, the call dropped. No answer. I pinched the bridge of my nose and kicked at a pebble in the middle of the deserted motel parking lot. Apparently, I'd need to call all of their numbers.

Three numbers in I finally heard a receiving click on the other end and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hello?" came Sam's gruff voice on the other end. I was surprised to hear his voice instead of his older brother's.

"Sam? Hey, it’s me," I heard a lot of shuffling from the other end, like he had bolted upright from shock. “Where, um… where are you guys?”

Sam was silent for a beat before speaking again. "Is everything alright?" I flinched at the wariness in his tone.

"I'm fine, Sam. Better than fine actually," I answered quietly. I placed my other hand over the speaker of the phone and turned my back to the motel parking lot conspiratorially. My voice dropped to a soft tone. "Look, I… I know it’s been a while and you probably don’t want to see me, but-"

"I do," he interjected quickly and I clamped my mouth shut. "Believe me, I do- we do. But what about your pack? And, well… I mean, Dean’s pretty pissed. He’s been pissed. He’s been throwing himself into this hunt for dad."

I frowned at the worn pavement beneath my feet. I figured he would be mad at me, but facing the reality of the situation hurt regardless. Maybe I could just… ignore it all. Go back to my pack, forget it ever happened. Like I never met them. Would that be easier?

No. No, that would hurt more. I mentally cursed myself for getting so attached. "Did you tell him why?”

"Yeah, yeah I tried to explain it to him. But… well, look at it from his perspective. Dean’s spent his whole life killing, and the one time he decides not to…" he sounded distraught and I heard more shuffling from the other end.

He didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he meant. Dean had done me a favor by not killing me when we first met. At the time it hadn’t felt like much of a favor – maybe death would have been safer. But now, with how much our lives had changed… it was understandable that he was frustrated. The one different choice he made led to a human being killed and me running off without a word.

I fell silent, pondering what to say next. How was I supposed to explain to them why I left? I think Sam understood better than he was letting on. It wasn’t too dissimilar to why he left for college, although his reasoning wasn’t nearly as bloody. But Dean… it made sense that he would be hurt…

"I want to see you, Sam – both of you. I want to apologize to Dean, but I can't do that unless I see him."

Sam sighed from the other end. "OK. I'll… keep you updated on where we are.”

After a flood of profuse thank-yous and Sam's chuckles, the line finally went dead. He had given me a location amongst my gratitude and I was already slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

—

After half a day of travel, the sun was setting and I was thoroughly exhausted. Upon seeing the welcome sign that coaxed me into the small city I stretched my arms high above my head and allowed myself to slow to a steady walking pace.

Oddly enough, my heart felt heavy, like something severe was weighing on me. It was... an odd sensation that I hadn't felt in a very long time - not since my parents were still with me. Oddly enough, it was less of a weighing feeling and more of a tug. The tug itself was heavy, and it felt like it was pulling on a part of me that I didn't want to be released.

Something didn’t feel right.

I hummed and frowned slightly, my eyebrows creasing with worry. Maybe it was a mistake to come looking for the Winchesters before the pack? I had half a mind to turn back, but... I still didn't feel ready. If Sam and Dean were afraid of what I had done, how would my pack feel? They depended on the stability and different lifestyle my home provided. I kicked the occasional large stone out of my way as I traipsed down the road, headed toward whatever lay at the end of it. Hopefully a warm bed.

After another thirty minutes of walking, something I grumbled about to myself, I finally spotted dim lights behind a row of thick pine trees. My ears pricked at the sound of the engines roaring to life in the early night, something that oddly warmed my heart and made me want to prance. It wasn't long after that the stench of alcohol hit my nose.

The bar was a brick building on the edge of town, a neon sign glowing above the door and the building itself set into the corner of the block. The occasional car or motorcycle was parked out front. I smiled and brushed my hand affectionately over the front of an older motorcycle – I had always wanted to learn how to ride them. I wondered what it felt like to be on something so small, barrelling down a highway faster than I could run.

My eyes rose, scanning the line of cars until they settled on a sleek older model across the street. My eyes widened and a grin tore across my face. It was the Impala.

I whirled toward the door so fast that I nearly fell over, tripping over my own feet like a stumbling drunk. My senses dulled as the stench of alcohol hit my nose once again. The harsh smell practically threw me off my feet and made my eyes water. I couldn't place any other scent amongst the heavy, bourbon-filled air and that alone sunk anxious claws into my lungs, oxygen being stolen from them.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, grounding myself. The overwhelming scents and smells were driving my wolfish senses crazy, as they still hadn't calmed from my last escapade with the brothers. It had been weeks since I was in a room with this many people. I felt small and large at the same time. Small with worry and nerves. Large with fearsome hunger.

I rolled my shoulders and took a few more deep breaths, sifting through the heavily masked scents. My eyes flew open as a familiar scent hit my nose and I struggled to keep the rising gold color down.

Cherries.

I pushed my way through the crowd of drunkards and bikers. It was exactly the kind of scene Dean liked. Loud enough to quiet his own raging thoughts. Dark enough to dull the headache behind his eyes. Music he could get lost in, and a drink that burned just right.

"Hey," I spoke cautiously as I sat beside him and rested my forearms on the bar counter. Dean spared me a glance from the corner of his green eye and suddenly jumped. He did a double take out of shock and turned to me with wide eyes and parted lips. As suddenly as his surprise had come, it was gone and darkened with spite.

"What do you want?" he growled and took a long sip from his whiskey glass, failing to hide his frown.

I frowned, my brows knitted with frustration. I could already tell this wasn't going to be a good conversation. "I came to apologize."

Dean scoffed and tightened his grip on his glass. "Apologize for what? Abandoning us without a word?" he exhaled and glared at me. "That's not something I'll accept an apology for, sweetheart." I bristled. Although most of his nicknames were endearing, this one was spat out like it burned him.

"I had my reasons, Dean. You know I wouldn't leave without a good one-"

"Do I know that?" he snarled, spinning his stool to face me. "Cause it seems like you don't give a damn about Sam or me, or how we felt." I winced and opened my mouth to speak. He shushed me with a raised finger. "So what's your excuse? You got tired of us holding you back from going apeshit?"

Ow. I glowered at him. "You know I would never do that."

"Yeah? You seemed pretty content when you had your teeth sunk into Jared Bender's heart." I winced again, my glare cracking. "You didn't even know his name, did you?"

"He was trying to kill Sam," I growled, trying to justify my actions. "You would have done the same."

"Damn right I would have killed him. I would have shot his ass dead, would’ve been dead before he hit the dirt. But I certainly wouldn't have torn him apart and strung his organs around the room!" he growled between his teeth. He tried to keep his voice low, despite the uninterested roar of the bar occupants.

I balled my fists in my lap and glared at him as he twisted to face me. His jaw was set sternly, lips pressed into a thin line. It was the same look he gave Sam when the two argued. “You’re a hypocrite.” My tone caused my words to lose their bite.

"I'm a hypocrite? You fucking killed and nearly ate a man, and now you're trying to justify it to me!" he snapped, one corner of his mouth drawn up in a sneer. "You left Sam and me without a word! And now you're crawling back here to apologize and call me a hypocrite?"

My blood was boiling and once more my senses were raging. I couldn't quite grasp it, but it almost felt like a separation inside me, one side longing to beg for forgiveness and the other itching to sink its fangs into Dean's neck. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes, struggling to ground myself again.

Maybe a few months as friends wasn’t enough to convince him I wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he should’ve aimed for the head when we first met.

Without missing a beat I snapped back at him. "Quit acting like a girl whose prom date stood her up. I had my reasons and if you'll shut up for a few minutes, I'll tell you what was going through my head," I exhaled shakily and glared, steeling myself for his own reproachful response. "I left to protect you, to protect Sam, and to protect everyone around you. I wasn't stable – you know that, you saw it. So stop talking like a self-righteous prick."

Despite the quick tongue-lashing, I still didn't feel better. I hadn't said half of what I wanted to. If I could have given Dean a glimpse inside my thoughts, I would have in a heartbeat.

His frown remained stalwart on his features, furrowed brows unyielding. His viridescent eyes surveyed my own with contempt and barely contained anger, an emotion I mirrored. Eventually, his gaze reluctantly dropped back to the beer I had passed him, which he took a swig of. I felt a small victory until he spoke up.

"Get out," he grumbled.

"What?" I demanded with equal, if not more, frustration.

"Get out," he ordered more firmly this time with rage coating his words. I blinked in confusion – not just at his harsh words, but at the gripping pain in my chest and the harsh scratching, I felt in the back of my mind, like something fighting to escape. It struck me that Dean was really, truly angry with me for leaving, despite my reasoning – and from what I knew of him, he wasn't just going to forgive and forget.

He swore under his breath and whipped his head toward me, eyes raging with rage and, to my amazement, pain. "Are you deaf?" he snarled lowly, "I don't want to hear your excuses. Fuck off." He gripped his beer tightly and guzzled it then slammed it onto the counter.

Wrath hit me like a semi-truck, and that familiar clawing sensation I kept hidden in the back of my thoughts lunged forward. Those nagging thoughts took the form of my wolf, black fur ruffled and fangs bared in anger.

Whatever wolfish instincts I had let escape were now clawing to take control. For the first time in a long time, I felt like two beings at once. As I had surmised earlier, I had the very human side that wanted nothing more than to avoid conflict, that just wanted to apologize to Dean and work things out. But my monster side...

I gulped and glared viciously at Dean.

I felt a rumble low in my chest, a familiar rumble that I had last felt with my father. My wolf wanted me to tear into Dean, a human that we had somehow bound to our pack. Now this pup was blatantly challenging me, as she put it. She snarled at him and I resisted the urge to follow suit.

She was pacing in my mind, stalking back and forth, her molten eyes fixated on Dean. My own eyes faded to match the warm gold of hers, whiskey-colored in the faded glow of the bar lights.

I hadn't even realized just how much I was shaking. My wolf wanted out, wanted to shred him for his disloyalty. It was an odd feeling to be separated from a piece of myself, although the more I focused on her, the more I realized that we had been separated for a long time. For years, I lacked the fluid mobility between myself and my instinct, not the mobility that I once had. I hadn't had it since I was fifteen. It felt like I was holding back a tidal wave of torrential emotions, a painful instinct that wanted me to embrace the monster I was and chow on some hearts. Not Dean though. She wanted him back in his place as my... pack member? Was that what she- I viewed him as?

Dean swore again, finally breaking eye contact. He reached for his beer with a shaky hand and took another final swig before wiping his mouth and standing. "Fuck this," he grumbled, "I'm out."

He hadn't even made it three steps before something in me snapped and I snarled. "Sit your ass down before I sink my teeth into you and drag you back."

Dean whirled on me, chest heaving with fury. I turned my blazing golden eyes on him, slowly, with my mouth set into a firm line and eyebrows slightly drawn together. It struck me that this was the same look my mother had given my father when she was pissed as all hell, a look that clearly said he needed to shut up if he wanted to keep his testicles intact.

Like my father, Dean responded with a slack jaw, opening and closing his mouth in surprise and confusion. His resolve, although still strong, was withering.

 I nodded toward his vacated stool. He sat and shot me an angry glance, trying (and failing) to mask his nerves.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. I stretched my fingers, feeling my joints pop after being balled into tight fists for god know how long. With a sigh, I locked eyes with Dean once more, his narrowed and wary.

"You know full well I had to leave, Dean." I snapped. "If I hadn't left, I guarantee you would have eventually sent me home, thinking my pack could help. Don't act pissy with me for doing what I felt was right."

Dean glowered and his nostrils flared. "Having a reason doesn't change that fact that you left without a word-"

"- If I had told you I was leaving, would you have asked me to stay?"

"Of course, I would have!" he hissed and leaned forward. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this family now. I'm not going to just let my family walk out on me like that."

"That's the problem, Dean!" I argued. "I know that, if you had asked, I would have stayed! Sam wouldn't have asked, he would accept my decision and move past it, because he’s made that decision before for himself! You though, you would have gotten so caught up in your familial ideas that I wouldn't have been able to leave!"

"What's so wrong about staying with us!? About staying with me!?" he shouted back, a snarl set on his features. My eyes widened and he followed suit, realizing just what he had said.

"Dean, I had to leave," I uttered quietly. "For the second time in my life, I royally fucked up. I needed- need to get back on the same page. You know that feeling better than most."

"Why are you risking it?" he grumbled. I smiled weakly.

"Because you're my family too, Dean. Whether you like it or not, you're part of my pack now. You're family," I answered quietly. His own eyes softened. "Are you still mad at me?" I inquired with a nervous smile.

"Hell yeah, I'm still mad," he grunted. "But yeah... I get it. Wish I didn't, it would make staying mad at you a hell of a lot easier."

My nervous smile grew to a true grin, the gold fading from my eyes. My wolf scoffed and sat back on her haunches, melting into the background of my thoughts.

My human side had won yet again.

"Don't think you're off the hook," Dean huffed and stood from his stool. "You've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, Scooby."

"Would pie be a good first step?" I teased, standing up with him.

His expression softened slightly. The harsh lines of his scowl faded and the corners of his mouth dipped down in a frown. His brows pinched inward, hiding slight surprise. “It’s a start.”

—

Unlike his brother, Sam was happy to see me. I practically threw myself at him when I saw him in the motel room. Dean sulked and ate his pie while Sam and I caught up, discussing hunts and my own journey.

"Wait, so what do you mean you can't change shape?" Sam said, raising a forkful of pie to his mouth. "Isn't that, like, literally part of being... you?"

"Kind of," I uttered through my own forkful. "It's a mental barrier. Sometimes I can get it… close, sometimes I can't. The times that I can take multiple tries and usually it's kind of painful. Hurts my joints."

"What kind of mental barrier? Like a trauma barrier or you just don't want to?"

I huffed and reached for another bite of my slice. "I don't know. It's... it's like my mind knows I won't always be able to control what I do in that form. It's like a piece of me is trying to keep that instinctive part of me tied down."

I heard a snort from behind me and spun to face Dean, who was sitting at a little table under the window next to the door. "Why're you talking like it's two separate people? It's still you, right?"

I exhaled softly, choosing my words carefully when I spoke up. "Yeah, it's still me, but it's a side of me that I'm not very... in touch with. I haven't been in a long time."

"So your wolf is that instinctive part of you that you're keeping 'tied down'?" Sam inquired. I nodded.

"I think so. And she's been a lot rowdier since Minnesota. Over the years I've just... made a habit of keeping her chained down so that I don't have any screw-ups."

"And yet," snapped Dean, "you still didn't have a strong enough grip on her." He shoved a large bite of pie into his mouth and chewed, his jaw tensing. I practically wilted and stared down at my feet that were stretched out in front of me. His opinion on the matter had changed so drastically since before I left.

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're pissed, but you don't need to be an ass-"

"It's fine, Sam," I uttered. "He's not wrong." I huffed and brushed a hair out of my face. "I know it's not an excuse but... when my pack is involved, I just lose control. I'm going to keep working on it," I sighed. "I've never had a pack before – never wanted one – so, it's all so new to me. And now I have to worry about six skinwalkers and two humans that have somehow wormed their way into my family-" Dean winced. "- I've got to worry about my self-control and make sure I don't kill anyone, I have to figure out these damn whispers, and-"

"Hold up," said Sam, throwing up a halting hand. "What whispers?"

I paled. I hadn't meant to let that slip out. I didn't want the brothers to worry about whatever weird-ass whispers I had been hearing - I knew that they'd get fixated on figuring it out and potentially killing whatever it was. They didn't have the time or resources to help me with that -- hell, I didn't even know if it was actually a living thing talking to me. For all I knew, some celestial entity was trying to give me advice. At worst, I was going nuts.

"I- uh," I stuttered over my words. I jumped as Dean stood, tossing his paper plate in a trash can and sitting on the bed beside Sam. I refused to turn to him and continued staring at my feet and my place on the floor. "I've just been hearing these weird whispers. It's nothing too crazy-"

"Whispers are pretty frickin’ crazy,” Dean remarked firmly. I frowned. "Keep talking."

"There's not much to tell, Dean," I snapped, twisting to face him with a scowl. "I just hear this whisper. When I try to follow it, it... it shows me things."

"It shows you things?" Sam asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Like, I was chasing it when I met Marcus and Caeden. I just... followed the whisper and it led me to them. And with Calliope, it was... it wasn't whispering. It was screaming, frantic. It made me frantic. It knew she was in danger and it took me to her."

Dean swore under his breath. "How long have you been hearing these things? What are they saying to you?"

I scrunched my brows in thought. "It's been about three months I think? Maybe a little more?" Dean scoffed.

"And you're only telling us about this now?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say!?" I snarled back. "'Oh hey Dean, just wanted to let you know that I might be going a bit crazy, cause this voice I know literally nothing about it talking to me'!?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "That is exactly what you tell us! And then we help you figure out whatever the hell it is and maybe kill it!"

I huffed and turned away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't think it needs to be killed."

"What?" Dean growled and leaned forward, "What if it leads you into danger huh? What if it drags you into something you can't handle!?"

I whipped around to glare at him. "Would you even care, Dean? Last I checked, you didn't want me around anyway."

"Guys," Sam silenced us with a warning tone, snapping out of his deep thoughts. "Quit going at each other's throats, it's pointless."

"She wouldn't go for the throat, Sammy," Dean growled, balling his hands into fists, "She'd go for the heart."

"If you don't shut the hell up I will beat the shit out of you," I hissed back.

"I'd like to see you try," he snapped back.

"Would you two just shut up!" Sam snapped and glared at the both of us like he was ready to maim. "We've got bigger problems than you dumbasses not getting along." Dean and I fell silent, dropping our harsh gazes from one another and onto the floor. I could practically feel Dean's blood boiling - he was seething. I was too. I hated the way he was talking to me, treating me. Sam placed his hands on his face, dragging them down languorously, and sighed out of frustration. I perked up as he said my name. "What are the whispers saying to you?"

I hummed in thought. "Things like 'come', mostly," Dean snorted and I glared at him. "Last time it said 'see' and 'go'. Pretty much as soon as I realized something was wrong it changed what it was saying."

"Is it always only one word?"

"Yeah, one word at a time. Usually, there's a long pause and then it says something else. Last time... last time it was screaming so loud that it felt like it was clawing inside my skull," I mused for a second, mulling it over. "Pretty much every other time it's been like an existential thing like I was chasing someone just ahead of me. That time it felt like it was... pushing me, almost. Like it was urging me forward instead of urging me to chase."

Sam ruminated for a few moments, looking puzzled. Finally, he turned to Dean and muttered, "What do you think? Have you seen anything like that in dad's journal?"

Dean shook his head and fiddled with the odd-looking charm hanging around his neck. "No, I haven't. Honestly, sounds like a possession of some sort," his words faded into deep thought. His eyes rose to meet mine. "Can skinwalkers even get possessed?"

"Not that I know of. To my knowledge, you have to have a soul to get possessed."

Sam's eyes widened and he leaned forward with interest. "You don't have a soul?"

I shook my head. "Don’t think so. My dad told me it's why we don't go to heaven or hell when we die."

Dean quirked a brow. "Then where do you go? And how did he know?"

I shrugged. "For all I know there's nothing after death for monsters. It's just... over..." my shoulders slumped. I had always hoped that my father was wrong, that maybe there was something, anything after death. I didn't want it to just be over.

"Well, if it's not possession," Dean grumbled and leaned back on his hands, "maybe it's a demon?"

"Dean, why would a demon be talking to her?" Sam countered. "It's not like she can sell her soul."

I frowned. "What if it's not anything bad? What if it's, like, her? Instinct? Maybe I just subconsciously know when something is wrong with the pack?"

"No," Sam stated. "It can't be that. You said it led you to Marcus and Caeden? They weren't part of your pack at the time. Unless your instinct latches on to potential pack members nearby, I don't think that's it."

“Well if it were that, it would have led me to Sasha, Booth, and Andrew long before you guys rolled into town.”

“Unless they were the catalyst that sent your… pack honing abilities into overdrive?” Dean offered. 

"Whatever the reason is for it talking to me-" I started, referring back to Sam's previous statement, "- as long as the thing stays out of my way, I don't care what it says or leads me to."

Sam chuckled. "Fair enough. We can figure out our game plan for dealing with this thing later." The younger brother yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.

"We?" I questioned teasingly. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

Dean huffed and stood from Sam's bed and marched toward his own. He flopped onto the bed, landing on his back and locking his eyes with the ceiling. "Damn right this is a 'we' operation. No way in hell are we letting you figure this out on your own."

I chuckled dryly. “Doesn’t sound like you’re mad at me anymore.”

He scoffed. "Sure, soon we'll be frolicking in a meadow full of flowers together."

Sam chuckled with me as he rummaged through his bag, hunting for a toothbrush within it and setting out a set of clothes for the following day. "Alright, you two," he said, "we've got a hunt tomorrow, so enough talking."

I quirked a brow, my grin falling away. "We've got a hunt?"

Sam nodded and hummed in response. "Murder in Chicago."

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, like that's uncommon for Chicago." A rustling caught my attention and I turned to see Dean rummaging through his own luggage.

Sam smirked down at his bag and turned to face me, toothbrush in hand. "This is the second one in two months. Two people found dead in their apartments, no sign of forced entry."

My brows rose in surprise. "Spirit maybe?"

Dean huffed. "We were thinking a cursed object. No way a spirit could move between houses like that." I nodded in agreement. I wasn't exactly knowledgeable on all the spiritual aspects of the supernatural world – ask me anything about certain monsters, and I could answer more than most hunters. But ghosts, psychics, witches... those were all foreign. Hell, I had only heard stories about psychics before meeting Missouri Moseley.

"We'll find out what it is soon," interjected Sam, always the mother of the group. "Just get to sleep - especially you, Dean, since you'll be driving tomorrow."

Dean grumbled something under his breath and flopped back onto his bed, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. I grinned and made my way toward a rather large armchair in the corner of the room. I dragged a cushion off the chair and motioned for Sam to toss me a pillow. To my delight, he tossed two and a heavy blanket that had been folded and lain across the end of the bed.

After putting together my relatively comfortable nest, Sam turned out the light and the sound of peaceful snores filled the room.

—

The Impala rolled to a halt on the side of the packed road and Dean expertly parked against the curb. Sam sighed and ruffled his hair, scanning the newspaper seated in his lap.

I leaned forward and gazed out the front window at the apartment building before us. The room was somewhere on the third floor. I fiddled with the hem of my costume and followed the brothers out of the car, my eyes following Dean as he moved toward the trunk and withdrew a toolbox. He had hardly said anything to me since the night I got back. The most he would do is give me the necessary information for the case or give me a clipped answer to a question.

I missed bantering with him. I didn't like this odd silent treatment I was receiving from him. It put me in a bad mood every time he gave me a brief answer or even none at all. I wanted nothing more than to scream at him to get over himself and just forgive me already.

"You know," Dean started as he paced down the sidewalk toward where Sam and I were standing, "I've gotta say, dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork." He grinned and swung his toolbox lazily at his side. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, a smirk dawning on his features. He stumbled for a moment, struggling to remember the name. "What was it - ‘Our Town’? Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

Sam scoffed and a blush tinged his ears and cheeks. I chuckled, punching him teasingly in the shoulder. "You never told me you were in a play, Sam."

He chuckled nervously and turned his head to me. "It was a long time ago, and I really didn't have a big part. I was a background character."

"Main character in my heart," Dean teased. Sam rolled his eyes.

"But honestly, Dean. This getup helps us look the part. Do you want to pull this off or not?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"I'm just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money."

"Whose?" I countered and glared teasingly.

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

It didn't take us long to reach the third floor and the door of the victim. The landlady grumbled and fumbled with the keys before pushing the white door open to let us in.

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam said to her politely. Dean and I paced around the hallway, him fumbling with the alarm system while I checked for any signs of forced entry on the door.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so..." she trailed off and sauntered into the room with Sam close behind. I shut the door and quirked an eyebrow at the severed chain lock. I caught Dean's attention and nodded toward it, holding the two ends of the golden chain delicately. Dean frowned and turned to follow the landlady and his brother. "You said you're with the alarm company, right?" the older woman asked and spun to face the brothers.

"That's right," answered Dean, flashing his most sincere smile. It looked more like a grimace, in all honesty. He really wasn't that good at the acting part of this job.

The woman huffed wearily in response. "Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I choked down laughter and covered my mouth with a hand. She leaned around the boys to cast me a sly grin.

Dean cleared his throat and flashed his own tentative grin. "Well, that's why we're here. To make sure it never happens again." The woman nodded and stepped aside to allow us to peruse the apartment.

"You found the body, right?" I asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She nodded and swallowed dryly. "Were there any signs of a forced entry?"

"Any windows open?" Sam asked. "Was the alarm still active?"

"Windows were locked, front door was bolted. We had to cut the chain to get in here," she grouched in response. Dean frowned – that chain was the only lead we had. We were back to square one.

"Did you find her right after it happened?" Dean asked, referencing the girl who had been killed. The landlady shook her head.

"No, a few days later. Her work called and said they hadn't seen her in a while. I knocked on her door. That's when I noticed... the smell," she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.

"And what condition was she in?" Dean pressed. The landlady huffed and glared at him.

"Meredith was all over the place, in pieces. I tell you, the guy who did it must have been a whack job. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was an animal attack." The brothers looked first at each other and then Sam's eyes met mine. My brows furrowed. What could possibly have shredded her like that?

Sam's eyes flitted toward the woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time and give this place a once over?"

The landlady shrugged in response. "Go right ahead, knock yourself out." My eyes followed her as she walked out of the apartment, waiting for the door to latch before giving the go-ahead to speak.

"So a killer walks in and out of the apartment, no weapons, no prints, nothing..." Dean grumbled, trailing off as he rifled through his toolbox. I hummed quietly in response.

"There's got to be a trace of something here, some sort of clue. There's no way something could have killed her and not left a trail," I said, tracing a few fingers lazily over the large spots of blood.

"I'm telling you, the minute I saw the article I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said, inspecting the windows. He jumped when Dean's EMF meter went off.

"I think I agree with you," Dean answered as he held up the box to show off the number of lights indicating supernatural presence.

"Did you ever talk to the cops yesterday?" I asked him.

Dean nodded and stood from his crouch position on the once white carpet. "Oh, yeah," he said, smirking. "I talked to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." I rolled my eyes.

"What'd you find out?" Sam pressed. I flashed him a quick glare which he looked rather confused by.

"Well, she's a Sagittarius, loves tequila - I mean, wow," Dean sighed almost wistfully, "Oh! And she's got this little tattoo-"

"Jesus, Dean!" I snapped. "Not about your hook-up, about the case!"

Dean grumbled something I didn't catch. I glared at the back of his head, almost wishing I could bore holes into it. "Nothing we don't already know," he carped. "Except for one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"Enough with the suspense, Dean," I said. At this point, I just wanted this case to be over. I already was not a fan of Chicago.

"You're no fun," he sighed. "Meredith's heart was missing."

Sam and I both jumped to attention, whirling on Dean with twin, wide-eyed stares.

"Her heart? What do you think did it to her?" Sam inquired.

"Landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe a werewolf?"

I barked out a laugh. "No way it was a werewolf. Moon cycle isn't right, and even if it was, I'd smell it. They reek, like the worst combination of rotten meat and cigarettes." I scrunched my nose at the thought. "My money's on a spirit. If it was a monster, I guarantee they would have left some trace other than blood."

"Yeah..." Dean mused thoughtfully. His eyes scanned the patches of blood, drawing a pattern in his mind. "Sammy, see if you can find a roll of tape."

Sam dug through his brother's toolbox as I went to stand beside Dean. "Notice something?"

"Maybe," he offered, holding his hands up to catch the roll of tape Sam had tossed his way. "We'll see in just a minute."

Dean got to work, connecting the patches of blood in a pattern I had never seen before. Hell, I wouldn't have even thought it would make a pattern like that. I chuckled morbidly, thinking that whatever killed Meredith must have been some sort of abstract artist - first the body, now the blood.

Dean stood and surveyed his work, crossing his arms. Sam moved to stand beside him, a puzzled look on his features.

"You ever seen a symbol like that?" Sam inquired, eyes following the sharp corners of the z-like symbol.

"Never," Dean responded curtly.

"Me neither."

—

"He could at least be helping us, Sam," I grumbled, flipping through the worn pages of their father's journal. "Instead of off doing- whatever it is with that poor bartender."

Sam snickered. "He is helping. Meredith worked here, so the bartenders are bound to know her."

"There's a distinct difference between helping us with the case and flirting with some painted bimbo, who we all know he is never going to call," I muttered, resting my chin in the palm of my hand as my eyes lazily scanned the page.

Sam opened his mouth to retort and quickly shut it, seeing Dean make his way back over. My gaze moved quickly toward him and fell right back to the paper. Honestly, the journal was a hell of a lot more interesting than anything Dean had to say.

John was incredibly thorough – he rivaled my uncle, who had always been compulsive and meticulous about his case notes. The journal might look like a mess of pages and hastily scrawled notations, but to me, it showed his dedication.

I flipped another page slowly, tuning out the brothers' conversation. My finger dragged along each line of writing with my eye following closely behind. My eyes fell on a string of numbers and my finger stopped its movement. I exhaled shakily.

I knew those numbers.

"Hey, Sam!" Dean called out, a tight grip on his beer. "Where are you going?"

I lifted my head, staring with a glazed look after Sam as he marched away from the table. Dean turned his confused eyes on me before standing and following his brother.

I looked back at the page, my finger running haphazardly over the string of digits. Why would John have his number..? I tightened my jaw and marked the page so I could find it later and shut the little book, tucking it under my arm and following the brothers. My eyes widened as I noticed Sam talking to a blonde girl, giving her a tense hug. My ears tuned in to their conversation as I stalked up behind Dean.

"Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while," the girl said, fluttering her lashes at Sam. I took a deep breath, ready to interject, and coughed, gagging on air. God, this girl was drenched in perfume, it was blocking all of my other senses.

Dean cleared his throat and patted me lightly on the back. I brushed his hand away and took shallow breaths.

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts – Andover," the girl said with a giggle. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." Although his back was turned to me, I could tell he was puzzled. It must have been written all over his features.

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong..." she trailed off and gazed up at Sam from under her lashes. I rolled my eyes. Dean cleared his throat and the girl's eyes snapped to his, a disgusted glare rising on her features. "Dude, cover your mouth."

Dean looked shocked and I suppressed a laugh, for fear of inhaling more of her sharp perfume. God, the girl must have bathed in the stuff. Did the boys really not smell it?

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean," Sam said, scratching the back of his head. The girl, Meg, looked surprised.

"Oh! This is Dean?" she confirmed. Sam nodded and Dean smirked at her.

"So you've heard of me," Dean mused, attempting to be smooth. Now it was Meg's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," she snapped. "Real nice, how you treat your brother like luggage." Dean’s eyes widened and I stared at Meg in shock. When did Sam even have time to meet this girl without Dean knowing? "Why don't you let him do what he wants?" she continued, spite lacing her words. "Quit dragging him all over God's green earth-"

Sam held up his hands in a silent plea to make her stop. "Meg, it's fine, really, we're fine." The three of them stood there awkwardly, Meg surveying the two, glaring at Dean with contempt and at Sam with an almost overprotective gaze. Her eyes skirted over me, likely because I hadn't been introduced.

I cleared my throat. "I'm, uh- I'm going to get a drink. You want to come with me, Dean?"

"Yeah- yeah," he said, already moving toward the bar. I flashed a sheepish grin toward Sam and Meg, waving goodbye and running to catch up with the elder Winchester. "Damn, that was awkward."

I sat on one of the bar stools, placing John's journal on the counter and running a finger over the spine. "So... when did she and Sam first meet."

Dean scoffed. "Probably after our first real hunt with you, in Kansas. He and I got into a spat and he left for a few days."

I glared at him, clenching my fist and resting it on the counter. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Well, we weren't exactly super close then. It was kind of a family matter, not something for you to stick your snout into."

"You are family, Dean," I hissed. "I have a right to know when these things happen."

He frowned and rested his hands on his lap. We sat in silence for a few minutes, long enough for Dean to get another beer from the bartender and have about a third of it.

"Listen, I-" he started. I cut him off, flipping open his father's journal to my marked page.

"Dean, I found something in the journal earlier, when you first came back to the table." He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something and shut it when I cast him a warning glare. Whatever he wanted to say, I really wasn't in the mood for it. He looked toward his lap bashfully and then his eyes rose to face mine, his jaw tightening.

"Anything relevant to the case?" he asked.

"No," I answered quickly. "But look at this," I slid the journal toward him, highlighting the phone number at the bottom of the page. His eyes flickered toward mine and he raised a brow in confusion. "I recognize this number, Dean. It's-"

"Hey!" called Sam, sauntering back toward us with his cell phone in hand. "You guys ready to head out."

Dean turned to face me, a promise being held in his green eyes. "We'll get back to this later." He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and following Sam toward the door.

I groaned and dropped my head dramatically on the open journal. "Sure we will..." I muttered to myself. I stood, slamming the journal shut a little more roughly than I intended, and followed the brothers out the door.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange," I heard Sam say as I rushed to catch up with the brothers. "Like, maybe even a lead."

"What makes you say that?" Dean probed, sparing me a glance as I jogged up to him.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Oh. They were still talking about her.

"I don't know," Dean said with a dramatic sigh. "Random coincidence? It happens."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong-"

"Dean," I interrupted Sam. "I think maybe Sam's right. There's something off about her. I mean, did you not smell the buckets of perfume on her? Had me gagging within ten feet of her."

"Perfume doesn't make someone a murder suspect," Dean countered.

"It does if it causes me to choke and die."

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not dead, right?"

"-I'm just saying that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on," Sam added to his unfinished sentence.

"I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" he chuckled and nudged Sam with his shoulder. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes as we stopped on the side of the road, waiting for the go-ahead to walk. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor." Sam marched away from Dean and I before his brother could protest.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked as he ran to catch up.

"I'm going to watch Meg."

Dean laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "Yeah, you are!"

Sam grimaced and shrugged Dean's hand off his shoulder. "I just want to see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

The two bickered, Dean teasing Sam, and Sam arguing. I stopped on the sidewalk, watching the brothers make their way toward the Impala, Sam fishing the keys out of his pocket.

I glanced down at the heavy, leather-bound journal in my hands. Something about this case didn't add up. First the weird symbol, and now Meg showing up? Something was wrong, I could feel it. She was hiding something.

Dean called my name from his spot beside the passenger door and I perked up immediately. "You coming or not?"

I nodded and shoved the journal under my arm and crossed the street to where the boys were waiting.

#ugh here comes john winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #x reader #female reader #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #supernatural fanfiction #monster reader #monster #original characters #original monster characters #fluff #angst #slow burn

[samlacy]

Masterlist & Intro

HELLO!! My name is ila (for short, ilan also works idc tbh^^)

I am a HUGE reader and part time writer :)

I highly suggest to check the tags before reading my fics because I mostly write angst with a side of smut

REQUESTS : OPEN

Im multifandom, which means I write about marvel, supernatural, csm, etc.!!

I write ships AND x readers, just request!!

Okay enough about me, here is the masterlist

MARVEL

**ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE

- Hobie Brown

• Sunsets at the beach (red dots I fell inlove with)

Angst & Hurt no comfort / x reader

• Your Only Flaw Is That You‘re Flawless

Angst & Hurt no comfort / x reader

• False pleasure (I will be good for you)

Semi-Angst & Smut/ x reader

• Hot Man

Drabble / x reader

• Apron

Fluff / x reader

**AVENGERS

- Steve Rogers

• Love Me, Touch me (be the first who ever did)

Smut / Virgin!Reader

• Tall Baby

Smut / x reader

• Thighs

Smut / x reader

- Tony Stark

• …

ORIGINAL WORK

- MLM (men love men)

• Don’t Leave Me Here (Shivering In The Disappearance Of Your Warmth)

Angst / slight smut

SUPERNATURAL

- Castiel

• Let me go, I’m starving

Sastiel (SamxCastiel) / Smut & Angst

- Sam Winchester

• Let me go, I’m starving

Sastiel (SamxCastiel) / Smut & Angst

• One Last Time

Sabriel (GabrielxSam) / Smut

- Dean Winchester

• …

- Gabriel

• One Last Time

Sabriel (GabrielxSam) / Smut

#i love angst #angst fanfic #gay men #one sided love #smut fanfiction #unrequited crush #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #gayhot #supernatural #fanfiction #gay mlm #original work #original characters #masterlist #multifandom account #requests #introduction #steve rogers x male reader #dom steve rogers #top steve rogers #top castiel #top tony stark #bottom sam winchester #top sam winchester #bottom reader #bottom male reader #bottom female reader #bottom gn reader

[wrenwinchester]

Millie gives people knives as a form of affection. Sometimes she’ll spend days choosing the best knife (style, design, etc.) that best fits the person.

She’s also the type of person who you need something done, she’s got a knife for that. Need a letter opened, “oh I’ve got a knife for that.” And it’s like specifically a small knife that’s probably better labeled a letter opener. Need a machete to kill a vampire. “I’ve got 10, pick your favorite…. But there’s a high likelihood I want it back” *death stare of seriousness* Need a blade forged in dragons breath to kill a dragon? “Oh I got this one when I was like 15, from some old lady, cause I thought it was cool.” Need a knife made out of a specific bone to kill some creature or another? “Oh I picked one of those up last week at such in such. Didn’t know it would come in handy so soon.” “We need an obsidian knife for *insert spell to do something*” “oh well, here you go. I’ve had this one since I was like 17.” *cue confused looks from everyone* “how does a seventeen year old get a— you know what. Never mind.”

Just. More shit like that.

Also she has like three of these displays around the bunker by season 9, and very quickly adds to her already large collection of knives.

Wren also keeps a collection of small switch blades and other small knives to give to the kids she meets on hunts. She teaches these kids how to take care of the knives, being specific to the knife she gives the kids (often giving her own knife sharpener to said kid) and gives the kids clear instructions on knife storage and safety.

She spends hours making sure her knives are clean and sharp, always ready to use. It’s nice having something so routine. After she and Dean meet up, and get Sam from college, the three of them quickly fall into the routine of Dean cleaning the guns, Sam doing the research, and Millie cleaning and sharpening the knives. It’s just the way it’s always been, it felt safe, normal. As normal as it gets for a Winchester anyway.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #millicent winchester #millie wren Winchester #wren Winchester #Millie wren #millie wren is my roman empire #millie wren my beloved #millie wren vibes #millie wren is my roman empire and i can’t stop thinking about her #millie winchester #Millie wren x knives #Millicent wren Winchester #millicent wren #the winchesters sister #the Winchesters sister oc #original character Winchester #guys I have a problem. I want to cry #I love her so much #spn #the winchesters #fanfiction #the winchester brothers #guys i have a problem #i really need help. #I wrote this months ago and it’s been sitting in my drafts forever.

[sweet-heart-jack]

Made a plus size page where I'll be writing characters x plus size OC's so please go check it out and follow me

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #daybreak netflix #eli cardashyan #fiona gallagher #lip gallagher #platonic #no smut #soft fluff #fluff story #angst story #cobra kia #tory nichols #robby keene #eli hawk moskowitz #sam larusso #miguel diaz x chubby reader #chubby oc #original female character #cubby girl

[werdlewrites]

Those Two Words (Dean Winchester x OC)

masterlist-about-ao3-twitter @ djomomma

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summary: He watched her, too. The way she floats through the home with a now sleeping baby in her arms, head just on her shoulder. She doesn’t make a sound, and even if she had, Eric was known to be a heavy sleeper. But it’s effortless - like she was made for this, despite never picturing her future with a child. Until it happened. And then it didn’t. warnings: small amount of dialogue, hurt/comfort/depression, miscarriage, Dean is a family man, AU? mentions of two OC's. This might be triggering for some wc: 4,075

There’s a light that flickers inside. A bundle of life to soar within your chest like thousands of butterflies to kiss your skin. It loves, forgives, and guides through this short journey left on Earth. It’s filled with beauty - something to never know pain or darkness, and yet it comes. Heartache penetrates this shimmer - wounds left behind as violent claws reach through your soul to tear it in two. There’s no peace, not even in grieving for the loss of someone you loved - or the loss of a piece of yourself. Time is the only ally, yet enemy all the same. Time brings distance from the pain, allowing wounds to stitch together with the hope of becoming whole again. Then the guilt comes - fallen from the tongue of someone unseen, yet buried in your mind. It calls you “selfish” and “unloving” as you move - not on, but forward. You allow fingers to pry their way through a healing light, and rip it open to bleed and create an ugly scar. A reminder of the hurt - the suffering.

The light heals but is weaker than it once had been. Tired from the time spent in recovery, yet strong enough to carry on - for you to carry on. It quivers and shakes as the memories come flooding in, yet you remain strong on two feet. Sometimes it falters - flickering in and out to leave its person in a daze, fighting to catch their breath or understand their surroundings. Like now, a mere two words rang out like a church bell in her ears. Yet, not of something to celebrate and praise, but rather, a time of mourning. Two words to lock her in place, mouth hung agape as she tried to understand..if she heard correctly. They trickle in like the start of summer's rainfall, until the pressure builds and breaks through the dam, dousing the light.

“I’m pregnant,”

She’s stuck in the dining room chair, hands splayed out over her knees - squeezing, though she doesn’t know it. All senses die as her life flutters and falls to the polished wood beneath her bare feet. Her best friend of a decade was pregnant - someone so beautiful, carrying a frail, tiny creature to call her mother. “Please say something,” Allison begs, voice warm and filled with sorrow for her friend - the color drained from the woman's face. She doesn’t seek a “congratulations” to come spilling out in the heavy quiet - more so forgiveness, for carrying a reminder inside of her belly, something her friend once dreamed of. The solemn eyes of the dying woman shift to intertwined hands to rest over her stomach, shielding this new spark from the cruel world it would soon face. She finds tears reaching just the corner of Allison’s eyes - weighed down by uncertainty and confusion. It’s then that her once darkened soul sparks with light again - in and out, sputtering until it brings her to stand from the chair, with Allison soon wrapped in a tight embrace. “I’m so happy for you,” she mumbles in the crook of the girl's neck - the only acknowledgment being a frantic nod of the head, untrusting of herself to speak.

Two words were all it took to remind Carmen of what she had lost.

Allison grew, and so did the threat against Carmen’s stability. She wore genuine smiles, though they wavered the moment curious eyes looked her way. “It’s not about me,” she tells him. Folding up the laundry with the help of her husband, who asks almost daily how she is doing with a little Winchester on the way. One that hadn’t been hers. “They’re bringing a baby into the world. It’s a beautiful thing,” she continues, packing away their neatly done clothes - a trait adopted after dating Dean for so long. All military and structure. “It doesn’t mean you can’t feel a certain way about it, y’know?” She hated these conversations - she hated the way it forced her to look inside at the damage done, to feel the pain as life slipped from her grasp. She lets go in the quiet moments, a bleeding heart spilling out into her partner's hands. He doesn’t try to push it all back in - to stop the flow with a firm hand on her fragile heart. Instead, he lets himself float within her misery - a moment of suspension for the two of them. To feel, see, and accept this reality. Dean holds her in the mornings, afternoons, and nights - never allowing her to feel lonely. Other times, she holds him. Fingers tangled through freshly washed hair as he lay over her emptiness, thumb soothing across the bare skin that once held life. She apologizes for failing him - for failing their baby, and he holds onto her tighter. “You could never fail me.” But soft words are buried beneath self-loathing. Carmen gives into his comfort, letting it wash over her to cleanse a tortured spirit. But it’s tainted, and beyond the help of sweet words.

Family dinners and game nights are hosted by none other than the expecting couple themselves. Meals were cooked with love and the table was cleared by the guests once dinner was finished. They would play board games from their childhood - or rather, from Camen and Allison’s childhood. The women would exchange sly glances with one another across the table, hidden smiles behind their hands as their partners sat in silence, plotting a course of action like they have for their entire lives. “What’re you lookin’ at?” Dean would spit out - a look of annoyance in his eyes. “Nothing,” she sighs out, a shit-eating grin still shining brightly beneath the dim lights. “You’re just..so pretty.” He scoffs, a light smirk seen just at the corner of his lips - doing all he can to not smile - to not give in to her. “I’m going t’be the God damn Pretty Pretty Princess if it’s the last thing I do.” “Not with that ring you’re not,” she gestures towards the black, plastic ring. It sits snug around his pinky finger, barely hanging on and ready to snap should he make a fist. While his brother adorns purple earrings, a child-sized ring, and a bracelet - nearly a winner of the game. “This is a damn joke,” Dean mutters to himself, finger flicking at the numbered board for his next move. The games go on for hours, it seems. Leaving everyone sleepy-eyed in the living room while they talk about nonsense. Dean catches sight of his wife leaning into her palm, pretending to listen to his brother while a hand lays idle over her abdomen - a silent admiration of Allison, and what it must all feel like. He laughs at his brother's jokes - a distraction to keep attention off of Carmen, while a strong hand slips its way through. Fingers tangle to pry her focus away from the loss, giving a squeeze of reassurance - and she returns the gesture with a softened sigh.

Eric Winchester is born at 1:10 AM, weighing seven and a half pounds - crying and screaming until he is bundled up in his cocoon of warm blankets. The tears are unavoidable - cradling his tiny body against her chest with eyes full of wonder and adoration. "He's perfect," she offers in a hushed tone, letting the boy continue to bask in his peaceful dreams. Dean watches with a softened smile, heart warming until it’s agonizingly hot - boiling and damn near killing him on the spot. His vision flashes white from the ache, thoughts, and words left scrambled and lost on his tongue. But Sam is with him - a comforting hand on his shoulder to let him know he is there for support should his brother need to fall. But he remains steady for her; his wife, who offers the newborn to his uncle with trembling hands. He doesn’t realize at the moment that he is shaking just as much, dismissing the kind touch to his hand as he accepts the infant with a dazzling grin. For a moment, it’s as if the bliss had been their own. Leaving the hospital in the early morning to find something to eat, and catch up on long lost sleep. Together, they swoon in the car - faces lit by the oncoming sunrise, skin kissed by the vibrant orange. The couple smile together, filled with love and happiness as they talk about this new baby to enter the world. How small his hands were and the puffiness of his cheeks. When the quiet comes, he finds Carmen’s gaze cast out the window, unfocused on their surroundings but doing all she can to bury the creeping ache. She wipes at the corners of her eyes with the back of her sleeve, and he steals away her hand to lay a kiss across the surface.

Nearly nine months have been spent in healing for the two of them since his birth. He becomes a focus - a beacon of light to drown out their sorrows. It’s when three words reach her ears that suddenly shift the tides, fighting against the familiar current. “Will you babysit?” It’s just like before - a disembodied moment, a disconnection. Her knees weaken and he doesn’t notice the way her fingers tighten over the edge of the counter. Instead, his gaze drifts away - flickering to take in the sight of anything that wasn’t her lifeless eyes. “I’m sorry, I just-” “It’s fine, Sam.” Her voice is enough to surprise her, crawling over the barricade lodged in the woman’s throat. “Allison’s parents are out of town, and..she really needs some fresh air,” he finishes with a nervous laugh, which in turn pulls her dull expression into something joyous. “She definitely does. Of course, we’ll babysit.” Hazel eyes fill with light, grateful, and understanding of what his sister-in-law has agreed to, knowing it may not be an easy task. And then, the day comes. It washes in like a dark, threatening cloud seen just over the horizon the night prior. It inches closer as time passes, waiting to douse her in its heavy burden. It casts a shadow just over her shoulder, while Dean’s carries a little less shade - a sign of healing, but unforgetting. Carmen gives in to the pull as she moves down the hallway, pushing a once forever sealed doorway open to reveal shades of forest green and plush carpet. Who knew a lively space could feel so hollow? A place meant to overflow with laughter left eerily quiet since the last photograph was hung. It shines in the daylight - rays streaming in from thinned curtains, not once feeling the breeze dance along its threads. So alive in the day. And as the sun fell, it took the light with it, stripping vibrance away to let the darkness in. Stuffed animals sat upright in their places - on the chair and shelving. Books collect dust - childhood favorites left untouched. The crib was still - no imprints or rustle of fabric to show it had been lived in. To show that it had loved, and warmed someone once upon a time.

The deer and other small wildlife stare outwards from the wallpaper, never having the chance to protect someone - but always seeking the opportunity. She remembers how much of a pain in the ass it all had been. Choosing decor to leave both soon-to-be parents happy, but especially the wallpaper. Sights had been set on the pattern, and she spent an entire day convincing a Hunter that it would be beneficial for the imagination. Dean caves with a kiss to the lips, proceeding to help apply it before an argument fueled by hormones ceases the process. Carmen spends her day in bed, surrendering the project to the brothers who take care of not laughing too loudly, fearful of the woman. She cries in the doorway, thankful for all they’ve done, and apologizes for being so emotional. And as Dean cradles her tired body, he studies the finished wall and confesses his newfound love for it. That was nearly two years ago, time flew by before she’d even had the chance to catch it. Spending hours, weeks, and months in mourning. He calls for her, voice booming from the living room as he slips on his shoes. It all happens so fast. She blinks, and suddenly she’s walking through her friend's doorway - ignoring the cloud to now hover just above. “Our movie starts at six,” Allison begins, nearly out of breath as she becomes frantic with organization and the lists she’s prepared. “And this is the name of the restaurant we’re going to after, and-” “Okay, okay,” Carmen cuts in with a laugh, grabbing at her friend's shoulders to spin her around, pushing the girl closer to the front entrance. “I’ve got it taken care of. I’m a big girl, y’know?” “I know,” her friend responds with a sigh. “I just - it never gets easier. Leaving. I feel guilty for-” There’s a heavy pause, meeting her friend's eyes as a hard swallow chokes her on the spot. “I - I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t-” Carmen leans in a little closer, expression unreadable until her lips twitch into a sly smile. “Get out of here. Go have some fun, momma.” Allison embraces her words, though with great reluctance before wrapping herself up in the other’s arms. “Thank you,” she mutters, slipping away into her husband's hold as they both move into the evening. “Don’t you dare let that woman come home within the next few hours,” she warns, pulling a hearty laugh from Sam’s chest. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

The littlest Winchester is already swept up in the adoration of the eldest. Barely speaking a word to his brother as he moved with purpose, finding the boy slouched as tiny hands slapped carelessly against the buttons. A cluster of sounds emitting from the plastic table, until they suddenly stop as Dean towers above him. Gleeful cries follow only seconds after, making attempts to pick himself up to pull at his uncle's jeans. But just as he tumbles onto all fours, Dean kneels down to his level, a pointed finger holding all of Eric’s attention. He watches in wonder as he reaches for the table, pressing down on a vibrant pink button to release a bright tune in the silence. Again, more delight shines on in sweet eyes. His joy was heard through squeals and giggles. “You’re too easy,” Dean states with a prideful look on his face. “C’mere, squirt,” he grunts, swiftly plucking the boy up from the ground to hold against his side. “We’re gettin’ up t’no good today, aren’t we?” Carmen has only just seen the other couple leave, locking up for the night until their return. She can hear the coos and plotting buried in hushed whispers just around the corner. “We’re stayin’ up late. We’re watching movies-” “Excuse me?” Carmen interrupts, finding her partner with a guilt-ridden expression, though he fights past it to appear confident - maybe even a little offended by her playful prodding. “Nothin’,” He blurts out, tucking the boy deeper into comfort. “We’re talkin’ business, okay? Big boy stuff.” Her face contorted, amused and disbelieving of his defense before reaching across the way to wiggle her hands between the two. “You’re not forcing him to watch Poltergeist,” Carmen chuckles, successfully stealing away the infant to kiss soft cheeks. “It’s a classic!”

The hours passed with ease, filled with vibrance, laughter, and some delicate moments where the other was simply too afraid to break the spell. Some of those moments being when Carmen overhead her husband encouraging the infant to speak. “Can you say, ‘Best uncle in the world?’” Eric would spit and babble in response, gnawing on his tiny fingers as his shimmering eyes looked elsewhere. “Well, that sucks. Because I’m your only uncle.” Or, when he watched her dance along the slick tile of the kitchen floor, all for the boy's entertainment as he sat on the other side of the baby gate. Eyes were wide, watching with amazement and sloppily clapping his hands together every time she did a dramatic spin. Other times, she would study him from the couch as he read the boy a story. Thick pages nearly blocked from view as Eric laid his palms across the pictures and words with every flip. Dean would laugh, “I can’t see, bud,” as if the child could understand. She soaks in these gentle moments. A spotlight filled with a warm, summer glow cast down upon the two. His rough hands and angered spirit were now watered down. A dying garden filled with rotten weeds and poison now thriving with delicate flowers and joy. He watched her, too. The way she floats through the home with a now sleeping baby in her arms, head just on her shoulder. She doesn’t make a sound, and even if she had, Eric was known to be a heavy sleeper. But it’s effortless - like she was made for this, despite never picturing her future with a child. Until it happened.

And then it didn’t.

Carmen lays him with care in the crib - a rich mahogany to match the changing table. The color compliments pewter walls and perfectly white accents. It had always been clear, that this was no hollow place. A soft rug held a singular stain at the edge, having experienced an accident as the new parents struggled to adjust to new life. Toys were littered across the floor, though hastily pushed aside as they were left with no time to clean before their night out. The ear of Eric’s favorite dog was crumbled and permanently disfigured as he gums it. Colored blocks were stacked to the side, with other loved items frantically tucked into storage with arms still hanging out from the box. This room sang a joyous chorus in the day as sunlight poured in, and a velvety lullaby as the moon took its place. You could hear the adoration bleed out from the walls even in the quietest of moments, and it was heard throughout the home as Eric’s door was always left open. Even now, as his caretaker slips from the crib with ghostly steps, slipping back out into the hallway to meet her partner. “Down for the count,” she sighs, allowing a tired body to rest against the wall just at his door. The woman waits in the silence - waiting for his deep voice to cut through and warm her flesh. To make a sarcastic comment or joke that lights a smile on her face. Instead, she lingers under his stare. Green eyes sparkled beneath the dim lights, alluring and filled with something she couldn't place in the moment.

It was yearning.

Plump lips twitch into a smile, a sensation of butterflies bursting within his chest - sickening, yet warm and encouraging goosebumps to the surface of freckled skin. Dean averts his gaze, feeling as though her curious stare was ripping through him to pull out unspoken thoughts not yet ready to reach his tongue. "What is it?" She questions, watching as he licks at his lips before shrugging away her invisible touch. Just before confessions spill to the floor, revealing all he’s dreamed of as Carmen lives out a life once lost to them. “Nothin’,” a strong hand reaches and tangles with delicate fingers, tugging her along until they settle on the cream-colored couch. She doesn’t buy it - not after having known this man for just over a decade. His wife can do more than simply read through his hazy shield. She predicts, understands, and reasons - while her past self had spent energy she couldn’t waste on fighting a stubborn, arrogant, man-child. “Sam says they’ll be home soon. I guess Allison started crying.” The imagery brings unexpected laughter as she settles into his side, fingers fanned out over a denim-clad thigh. “She lasted longer than I thought.” It’s a deflection. Dean Winchester has grown and shifted with the tides. Swimming with them, rather than against as they seek to pull him under with violence. There’s a storm at his back and it holds reality - turmoil and emotions he struggles to express. So, despite the bliss in their hearts and laughter in their chests, he’s lost somewhere in that sea. Eyes carved from jade staring out into nothingness, swimming faster from the heavy cloud. “What is it really, Dean?” His resolve shatters from her kind voice, gripping at her fingers as they work to pry them from her flesh. Words act like water caught in his throat, choking and suffocating until he finally forces them out, and with it comes a new light to cast out the shadowy sky.

“We got dealt a shitty hand,” he begins, not yet brave enough to face her, instead electing to watch as her thumb soothes circles over his skin. He refers to more than just their loss as a joined family. But to the loss of Carmen’s sister, before they had ever met. He means the sacrifice of his father's life, the murder of his mother, and each painful journey they fought through up until this moment. “Doesn’t mean we have t’stop playin’ the game.” Confused by his words, her brow knits together as she tries to make sense of it all. Lips parting to ask what he means, though silenced as he shifts his body to face her directly. “I’m tired of our girl’s room being shut.” Her breath hitches as Dean tears down that dam to keep her own storm at bay. Angry, grey waters crash and grip until she’s fighting for air. She could die here in his arms from sheer pain. From a broken heart. “I see you and Eric, and I - I just can’t stop it, y’know?” He can see the glisten in her eyes - sorrow climbing to the top and threatening to wipe the woman out like a plague. He inches closer, pulling her legs to drape over his lap, a comforting hand against her cheek. “I think about you. I think about us, and what it was like. T’have her, and-” Mentions of her loss leave him sick and gagging on foul words, but he manages to choke them out as a tear spills down her cheek. “She lived, Carmen. She lived, and she was perfect.” Another tear on tinted cheeks and she surrenders to his touch, a thumb brushing them aside. “Yeah, she was,” is her mumbled reply, followed by a sniffle and an aggressive swipe just beneath her nose. “We can walk away from it. We can leave that dream behind, just say the word. Whatever you want, I’m with you. I just-" He doesn't finish, watching as those waves crash within tearful eyes. It's familiar territory, she doesn't need to hear the rest as she fights against the current. Her only focus was to keep her head above the waves.

A strong hand falls to her hip, all too close to a once full belly - a home provided now echoing with the haunting cry of a ghost. He hopes to let it sing again, if she only reaches for his hand for guidance in the murky waters. The shoreline awaits in the distance, beckoning them in closer to taste its warm security. But it’s not a journey to take on alone. And though painful, they would come out of it together - so she takes hold of him. She has long been dreaming of that empty crib, whether it be in nightmares or something rare like a dream she couldn’t pull herself from. Had it been the trick of a Djinn, she would have died if only to see her daughter grow. And as Eric’s gentle breaths and grumbles of sleep slip through the baby monitor, sadness shifts into hope and longing. “I don’t want to keep it closed, either,” She whispers, untrusting of her own voice to carry the following words filled with power. But there’s strength as she meets his stare. “Let’s try again.” They’ve touched land - brilliant sunlight stripping the weight of water from their clothes, so they may walk freely across the sand without burden. A sunrise dances across his skin as excitement sinks in. Beauty and love are seen shimmering like crystals in his eyes. That flickering light in their chests fighting for survival now glows with radiance. “Yeah? You want to?” She can only nod, a faint chuckle from nerves slipping through painted lips that are captured in his kiss. “I love you, so damn much.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x original character #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester #dean winchester is a family man #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #sensitive topics #dean winchester angst #jensen ackles

[princessmisery666]

Samnesia - Master List

Summary: Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam's life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, language, stalking, mentions of cheating, kidnapping, shitty friend, canon level violence mentioned. 

W/C: 54k (11 Chapters)

Rating: E (explicit - 18+)

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Rowena McLeod, brief - Mary Winchester, OFC, OC’s. 

Pairing: Sam Winchester x OFC (Brooke)

Notes: set around season 14. Chapters 1-8 flick between “then” and “now” but all in timeline order and labelled.

A/N: This has been a labor of love since 2019. I wanted it to be perfect and finished before I started posting. Thanks to @slytherkins it's perfect to me and finally finished.

Betas: @slytherkins // @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.

Special shoutout to: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba // @manawhaat - who took a look, offered encouragement and helped at some point during the creation.

Graphics: all made by the wonderful and talented @talesmaniac89

Series Complete

Prologue - Questionable Decisions

Now: Sam has to explain to Brooke and Dean why he kidnapped her.

W/C: 1.9k Warnings: angst, language, kidnapping.

Chapter 1 - Photographs

Now: Sam has to convince Brooke that he kidnapped her for her safety.

Then: Sam wants a quiet night but ends up rescuing Brooke.

W/C: 4.2k Warnings: angst, fluff, kidnapping, shitty friend.

Chapter 2 - The Cheek

Now: Brooke decides to trust Sam.

Then: Brooke gets stood up, but Sam is there to save her night.

W/C: 5k Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, language, stood up. 

Chapter 3 - Girls' Night

Now: Sam and Dean try to narrow down the cause of Brooke’s memory loss.

Then: Sam and Brooke share their first kiss and get to know each other a little better.

W/C: 5.4k Warnings: slow burn, fluff, angst.

Chapter 4 - Expectations

Then: Sam makes Brooke dinner, and they discuss what they want from their relationship. Dean invites himself to meet Brooke.

W/C: 7k Warnings: fluff, angst, slow burn, very mild smut.

Chapter 5 - Confessions

Now: Brooke hints at knowing there’s something Sam isn’t telling her but she doesn’t want to deal with it right now, instead wanting to hear more about her and Sam. Sam tells Brooke the truth about the Supernatural, how will she take it?

Then: Free of all interruptions Sam and Brooke finally get to be intimate.

W/C: 7.6k Warnings: smut, slow burn, fluff, angst.

Chapter 6 - Calm The Chaos

Then: Settled into a sporadic routine Sam and Brooke spend as much time together as they can. Until Brooke realizes her stalker isn’t who she suspected, and it all becomes too much.

W/C: 4.4k Warnings: angst, stalking, fluff.

Chapter 7 - Cold Shoulder

Now: The timing is off and Sam doesn’t want to tell Brooke how he feels but actions speak louder than words.

Then: Drunk phone calls lead to a confession, but Brooke unexpectedly gives Sam the cold shoulder.

W/C: 4.8k Warnings: angst, fluff, argument, love confessions.

Chapter 8 - Poker Face

Now: Sam’s frustrated that he’s no closer to figuring out the cause of Brooke’s amnesia. Could a friendly game of poker with Dean reveal the answer?

Then: Sam tracks down Brooke to find out why she’s giving him the cold shoulder, and he doesn’t like what he finds.

W/C: 4.6k Warnings: angst, confrontation, kidnapping.

Chapter 9 - Misplaced Intentions

Now: Brooke loses more than her memory, but finally, they have answers. How is Rowena connected? And more importantly, can she restore Brooke’s memory?

W/C: 5.5k Warnings: house fire, shitty friend, angst, fluff, Rowena being the badass she is, canon-type violence.

Chapter 10 - Magical

Now: Sam has to make the decision of how much he wants Brooke to remember. Is it too much of a risk to have her remember everything? 

W/C: 4.3k Warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angst, happy ending. 

Master Lists: Sam Winchester // All The Fandoms

#samnesia #long post #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x ofc #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x original female character #slow burn #fluff #angst #canon divergent #dean winchester #smut #amnesia

[spnhunter4life]

Bullets and Ballgowns

Summary: In the summer of 1813, the arrival of a new family in Brighton causes much excitement for the townsfolk. Anna Foster is shocked to realize she has already met the elder of the two sons, Dean. As she gets to know the family better, she must fight her feelings for him. Though she finds herself drawn to him, it is impossible that they could ever be together.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Here it is, the first chapter of the regency era fic I promised. Set in England because it just seems wrong to write for this time period in any other location. Thanks to everyone who has shown excitement for it! I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Masterlist

(I have a header put together that will go here eventually, but I'm waiting on permission to use a picture)

Anna Foster was greatly enjoying the ball her parents were hosting. It was a beautiful evening. Despite the late hour, the sky was clear of clouds and the full moon shone bright enough to see clear to the horizon. Their country home located a few miles outside of Brighton thrummed with energy. The windows were cracked to let some of the mild summer air into the warm room. The room itself was occupied by a crowd of people. Gentlemen in suits and ladies in beautiful gowns twirled together on the dance floor, accompanied by the town’s most well-respected musicians. Even more people lingered around the edges of the room, chatting amongst themselves and admiring the dancers. It was an overall pleasant and joyful way to end the day.

There was always a great deal of excitement surrounding any ball, but this one was doubly exciting for the town, and Anna’s mother in particular. A new family had moved to town today and would make an appearance at the ball. A wealthy man with his wife and two eligible sons. Naturally, everyone was quite anxious to meet the new family – particularly mothers with eligible daughters – but none more so than Anna’s mother. She had been a ball of excitement since the announcement of the new family’s arrival several weeks ago and had been nearly literally bursting with joyful anticipation today. Anna could do nothing but shake her head and smile fondly.

She was just finishing a dance with Mr. Littleton – a sweet older gentleman who spent each ball dancing with as many ladies as he could, determined that none should be left out – when the sudden outbreak of whispers in the room alerted her to the new arrivals. She curtsied to Mr. Littleton and retreated to the edge of the room, taking up a position next to her friend Charlotte near the door to watch the unfolding excitement. 

As tonight’s hosts, Anna’s parents were, of course, the first to greet the new family. They were already standing beside the newcomers, welcoming them not only to their home, but to the town. As the family of four made their way further into the room, Anna found herself staring curiously at them, much the same as everyone else. Her eyes flitted over the line they had formed, first the father, then the mother, and then the two sons. 

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester were quite an attractive pair. He was tall with dark hair and had a certain ruggedness about him. Her blonde hair and slighter build complemented him well. And it appeared their good looks had been passed on to their two sons. It was hard to say which was older, but the one standing next to their mother was taller. His brown hair was on the longer side and fell attractively around his eyes. He had a friendly smile that Anna was sure would have caught the attention of girls even if he did not come from a good family with money. The second son was just as attractive, maybe more so. Though he wasn’t as tall as his brother, he was by no means short. His hair was shorter and a lighter shade of brown and he wore an equally charming and friendly smile. Anna felt the blood drain from her face at the sight of him.

Why was he here? How could this be happening? He was a stranger from London, one of thousands of people there. How could he be here of all places? Surely he must have been sent here to torment her, to remind her of that night. 

“They are quite handsome,” Charlotte noted of the sons. “I suppose that means the fight for their affections will be even more fierce than expected.” She was not upset or bitter about this fact, merely making an observation. Charlotte did not fall all over herself anytime a new eligible man came to town. She was as eager to be married as any young lady, but she was determined to marry for love. Therefore she had no interest in the Winchesters at present beyond perhaps a desire to get to know them.

Managing a calm that she did not feel, Anna agreed with her. Her hand twisted nervously in the skirt of her gown as she watched her parents. The musicians started up a new song and couples shuffled off to the dance floor, no doubt still keeping a curious eye on the newcomers.

“Anna, darling, come here,” her mother requested when she noticed her standing nearby. She was absolutely beaming, smiling so widely it looked like it hurt. Even though she dreaded what might happen, Anna obeyed immediately, coming to stand next to her mother who wasted no time before getting to introductions.

“This is my daughter, Anna.” Anna said a polite hello as she curtsied. “Anna, this is Mrs. Winchester,” she continued giddily. “My childhood best friend I’ve told you so much about.”

She had indeed told Anna much about Mary Winchester, and always spoke of the other woman fondly. Mary had moved to London with her husband shortly after marrying, and Mrs. Foster had missed her friend dearly. Anna had never seen her so happy as the day she learned they were soon to be neighbors.

“This is her husband Mr. Winchester. And their sons, Sam and Dean,” Mrs. Foster finished. All three gentlemen bowed as they were introduced. 

“How do you do?” Anna asked. “I hope you are finding Brighton to your satisfaction.”

“We've only been here but an hour or two, but my dear Mary is quite excited to be back,” Mr. Winchester said. “I must admit, I do have fond memories of the place myself and I believe we are both hoping Sam and Dean will grow to love it here as much as we once did.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Anna answered. 

“I hope your expectations haven't been raised too much,” Mrs. Foster said to the younger Winchesters. “For while I find it hard to believe anyone could not be pleased with this fine city of ours, I find expectation a hard thing to live up to.”

“I don't doubt that we should be very happy here,” Dean answered with a polite smile. Anna forced herself to maintain eye contact as their gazes met. She saw no recognition on his face and couldn't decide whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

“Come now, dear,” Anna's father interjected. “Surely Mr. Winchester and his family should like to make the rounds to reacquaint themselves with old friends and meet their new neighbors. We mustn't keep them to ourselves all night.”

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Foster immediately agreed. “Shall I introduce you to the Baileys? They are your closest neighbors.”

“I should like to make their acquaintance, but first I think we're forgetting something rather important,” Mrs. Winchester said. “We have not given either of my sons the opportunity to ask your daughter for a dance.”

Anna's heart started to race. Surely she would be allowed a little more time to settle her nerves before being thrown into a dance with this man.

“I assure you I would not mind if you wished to make a few more acquaintances before being thrown straight into the dancing.”

“Nonsense. It would be poor manners indeed not to ask for a dance from such a lovely new acquaintance, especially one whose family is graciously hosting this ball,” Mrs. Winchester insisted.

Before Anna could protest further, someone else spoke up.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me, Miss Foster?” It was Sam, and he wore a smile Anna recognized well, full of apologetic exasperation and fondness.

“I would love to,” Anna agreed immediately, smiling back at him. She was relieved it had been him who asked and not his brother.

As her parents took the Winchesters off to meet more people, Anna made her way back over to Charlotte.

“Well then, are they deserving of all the attention they’ll no doubt be getting from every eligible lady around?” Charlotte asked immediately. She was nothing if not to the point.

“I hardly know,” Anna answered. “I only spoke to them for a moment. I daresay they do appear to be quite kind though. I am to dance the next with the younger Mr. Winchester. I shall give you a better formed opinion after.”

“Wonderful,” Charlotte said. She sighed wistfully. “I do hope at least one of them has a character as lovely as his face is handsome.”

Anna smiled. “That would be quite lovely indeed. But of course nothing less could ever be deserving of you.”

As the two girls talked, Anna noticed Dean excuse himself from the conversation with the Baileys and make his way across the room. He stopped beside George Young and they warmly clasped hands. George had just returned home from university and Anna assumed that must be how they knew each other.

“Anna, you’re staring,” Charlotte informed her gently. Anna blinked in surprise before turning back to her friend, feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks. 

“What is going on with you?” Charlotte asked. She sounded torn between concern and amusement. “I thought I detected a hint of unease when you saw his family tonight, but I dismissed it as nerves. But now to catch you staring as well. That’s not like you.” She paused, waiting for Anna to respond. When she didn’t, Charlotte continued. “He is very handsome. Perhaps you find him particularly so? Should I focus my attentions on the other brother then?” The ‘assuming he’s worth paying attention too’ went unspoken.

“No, it’s not that,” Anna protested. “I mean, he is quite handsome. But you know as well as I that I could not hope to be pursued by him even if I wished it. It is only…” Charlotte waited patiently for her to finish her thought. Anna sighed, steeling herself to admit something she had hoped never to speak of. If anyone deserved to know though, Charlotte did. “It is only that I’ve met him before. And I am quite ashamed of the way I behaved.”

Charlotte seemed puzzled by this news. They usually confided in each other quite openly after all. It wasn’t usual for something to happen, especially something big enough to cause discomfort at the mere mention of it, that the other was unaware of.

“What happened?”

“Nothing I want to speak of in such a public place,” Anna replied. “But I promise to tell you soon.”

“Alright,” Charlotte agreed worriedly. The closing notes of the song rang through the room and Anna saw Sam excusing himself from the small group of people he was talking to. “But… everything is alright?”

“Everything is alright,” Anna assured her.

Sam stopped in front of them with a bow and offered his hand to Anna. She took it and he escorted her to the dance floor where they lined up with the other couples.

“How are you enjoying your evening so far Miss Foster?” He asked as the musicians started up with the next song and they moved together in the first steps of the dance.

“Very well,” Anna answered. “Although I think it is unlikely for anyone to feel otherwise at a ball.”

“Yes, I believe you are right,” he agreed. Anna glanced around and saw all the ladies who were not currently dancing eyeing either her and Sam or Dean.

“I suppose you have a long night ahead of you dancing with every eligible lady in the room,” she said sympathetically. She did not know of anyone who did not enjoy dancing, but to be new to town and expected to get to know everyone through an endless stream of dances seemed rather tiring. “I should be happy to make introductions for you if anyone catches your eye. Or if at any point you need a break from all the dancing, I shall brave the displeasure of all the young ladies here and sit and talk with you.”

He smiled widely. “A very generous offer.” He was either amused or grateful. Possibly both, Anna couldn’t tell for sure. They danced in silence for a few moments before Sam spoke again. “I must apologize for being so quick to ask for a dance when I know it’s possible you would have preferred the invitation to come from my brother.”

“Why should I have preferred that?” She asked calmly, desperately hoping it hadn’t been that painfully obvious how nervous his older brother made her.

“Well, as the eldest son he is a better prospect than me. I shouldn’t blame you if you would prefer to get to know him.”

She supposed that was true enough, but why anyone would turn their nose down at Sam – who seemed to be a very kind, well-mannered man – simply because he was not the oldest was a mystery to her. He was still a very advantageous match.

“I do wish to get to know him,” she answered truthfully. “I have actually been quite anxious to make both of your acquaintances. But not in the hopes of securing an offer from either of you.” He looked at her questioningly, so she continued. “It means a great deal to my mother that all of us get along.”

“Ah,” Sam said, the understanding clear on his face.

“So no, I am not offended that you offered me a dance before your brother could. I should not feel slighted in the least to not dance with him at all tonight. I believe there shall be ample opportunity for us to talk in the future.”

“That may be true, but you can be assured you will not have to wait until after tonight for a chance to talk to him. Our friendship means a great deal to my mother as well, and she would not hear of us leaving here tonight without both of us having had at least one dance with you.”

Anna chuckled. “It should not surprise me to hear that your mother and my own appear to have a great deal in common.”

“No, it should not,” Sam agreed with a smile. He hesitated a moment before speaking again. “I hope it is not too forward of me to say I am glad that the young lady our mother so dearly wants us to become closely acquainted with is you. Though I do not know you well, I daresay I think it shall be quite easy to be your friend.”

“I quite agree Mr. Winchester. You appear to be just what I might look for in a friend.”

“I am glad to hear it.” 

They chatted quite contentedly for the remainder of the dance, at the end of which he escorted her back to Charlotte’s side. 

“Might you introduce me to your friend, Miss Foster?” Sam asked politely.

“Of course,” Anna agreed. Well, she thought, now Charlotte can form her own opinion of the man. “This is my good friend Charlotte Thompson. This is Mr. Winchester.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Charlotte said. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Sam replied. “Would you like to dance, Miss Thompson?” 

“I thank you, yes,” Charlotte agreed, taking the hand Sam offered her. 

The pair walked off, leaving Anna by herself. She retreated to the refreshment table, grabbing a glass of lemonade for herself. She noticed a small group of ladies gathered together in one corner of the room and was about to join them when a gentleman stopped her.

“Miss Foster,” he said. She turned to see Mr. Winchester grabbing a glass off the table. “Pardon me. I don’t mean to keep you from enjoying your evening.”

“Not at all,” she assured him. He took a sip of his lemonade, looking around the room as he did so.

“This is quite a lively ball your parents have put on tonight. My family and I are quite pleased to have such an event to attend on our very first night here.”

“As we are all quite pleased to have you here,” Anna said. He smiled.

“I think it will not come as a surprise to you to hear that my wife dearly wishes to get to know you,” he told her. “While I fear it will be some time before we host an event as grand as this, we should be settled enough in a few days' time to host small gatherings. I tell you this so you can know to expect a more formal invitation from my wife very soon as you are no doubt at the very top of her list of people to invite.”

“I thank you for telling me. And if Mrs. Winchester should ask, you may inform her that I look forward to forming a better acquaintance with her as well.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Winchester said gratefully. “I shall detain you no longer from your evening.” With that, he bowed and returned to his wife’s side.

The next couple of hours passed by just as pleasantly as the first couple. Anna danced several more times with several different gentlemen. When she was not dancing, she chatted with her friends. She and Charlotte were in agreement about Sam being a very pleasant fellow to be around, but Charlotte did not seem any more taken with him than she did any of the other gentlemen of the town.

Sam stayed quite busy dancing with various ladies but did take her up on her offer of talking when he needed a break. He spent some time acquainting himself with the gentlemen as well. His brother, while seemingly not quite as inclined to dance as him, still spent a fair amount of time escorting ladies to the dancefloor. He still had not asked her for a dance though, despite Sam’s assurance that he would. She was fine with that. The more time she had to steady herself before facing him, the better.

It was nearing the end of the evening, the musicians expected to play only three more songs when he finally approached her. He stopped in front of the group of four ladies she was talking to with a polite bow. 

“Forgive the interruption, but I was wondering if I might borrow Miss Foster for a dance.” 

Her friends looked to her in question. “I would be delighted,” she told him. Charlotte gave her a reassuring smile as she walked with him to the dance floor.

As the dance began, she found herself unable to stop from speaking the first words that came to her mind. “I was beginning to think I would not be offered a dance with you this evening after all, Mr. Winchester.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean to say you’ve been expecting an invitation all night?” Anna cringed internally. What an incredibly presumptuous thing to say. “If that is the case, I apologize for keeping you waiting so long. And for causing doubt that I, or any gentleman, would not wish to dance with you.”

“You misunderstand me,” she hurried to explain. “I did not mean to imply that I myself had any expectations. Indeed, if you ask your brother, you’ll find I had none at all. He assured me, however, that your mother would be rather displeased if the evening ended without both of her sons acquainting themselves with her friend’s daughter.”

“I see,” he answered casually. “So you are under the impression that I have asked to dance with you because my mother wished it, and that my own feelings had no influence on the matter.”

Up until now, the dance had required no physical contact between partners. They now reached the part where they were to clasp hands together as they made their way from one end of the lined up dancers to the other. His touch sent a jolt through her that she had not experienced with any of her other partners. She felt flushed as the contact reminded her of her actions on that night several months ago. Luckily any redness in her cheeks could be blamed on the exertion of the dance.

“My mother would be flattered to hear you have such a high opinion of her ability to influence my actions, but I am no longer a boy required to obey every wish of his mother’s. I asked you for a dance because it was my own desire, not anyone else’s.”

Anna could not deny the sincerity she felt in his words. Not being able to come up with a response to this declaration, she decided to change the subject.

“I asked your brother for his opinion on your family’s move to Brighton.” At the other end of the row of dancers now, they detached themselves and took their places back in line. “He confessed himself torn between an eagerness to know the people and sights here, and a sadness at the loss of his old home.”

“And you find this odd?”

“On the contrary. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to leave the only home you’ve ever known. Of course there must be excitement at meeting new people and experiencing new places. But that can only soften the feeling of loss so much.”

“That is very insightful of you,” Dean said. They clasped hands again as they began to weave in and out of the other couples.

“Perhaps not so insightful as you might think,” she disagreed. “I rather think every woman contemplates the difficulties, or perhaps in some cases joys, of leaving home, given that once she is married it is possible she will be settled quite far from her family.”

“And once you are married, what would you wish?” He asked. “To be near your family or to have a new city to explore?”

“I believe I should be content with either,” she answered, “assuming I am close enough to visit my family on occasion.” The topic of her marriage wasn’t one she wanted to dwell on right now, so she steered the conversation back to her original point. “What of you? Do you share your brother’s feelings?”

“I do not,” he answered. “But perhaps that is because I am only to spend the summer here with my family. After that I shall move into a place of my own.”

Of course. Sam had mentioned that he had just finished school. It only made sense that he would be preparing to start his own life then, a house being the first step before starting a family.

“And where do you plan on settling?” Anna asked.

“I do not know yet,” he answered as they came to a momentary stop, allowing the couples on either side of them to circle them as they waited their turn to do the same. “I hope to find a place in the country, just outside of London. I admit I have not seen much of the world, but I do not believe there could be a better place to live.”

They started moving again as Anna considered her reply. “I hope you are able to find the sort of home you are looking for.” 

They spent the remainder of the dance discussing such things as how the Winchesters’ journey from London was, upcoming social events, and their families. It was a surprise to Anna when the music came to an end. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed. They walked together to the edge of the room, out of the way of the couples who were lining up for the next dance.

“Thank you for the dance, Miss Foster. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Before Anna could reply, she became aware of the presence of another person stopping beside her.

“Good evening,” the new person said. Anna recognized his voice immediately. William Sanders. Her heart sank a little, but she kept a polite smile on her face. “I had meant to speak with you earlier, but I fear I got caught up talking with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Collins about tomorrow’s race,” he informed her. Then, as if just noticing she was not alone, he added, “Oh. I see you are already engaged in conversation. Would you introduce me?”

“This is Mr. Winchester. His family just moved here from London. This is Mr. Sanders.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Sanders said. “I had heard a new family was moving to town. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yours as well,” Dean agreed.

Never one for small talk, William appeared to consider the conversation over. He turned his attention back to Anna and his original purpose in approaching. “I do hope I am not too late in asking you to join me in the last dance this evening. Have no fear, if you have already promised the dance to another I will not be upset, for I have only myself to blame. I do believe it would be quite unfortunate if I did not dance at least once with the woman I am to marry though, particularly at a ball thrown in her own home.”

“You are quite right,” she agreed, determinedly ignoring the surprise she saw briefly cross Dean’s face. “And as it happens, I have no partner for the final dance, so you needn’t worry.”

“Very good. I shall return to you in time for the dance then,” he informed her before walking away.

“I should return to my family,” Dean said when he was gone. “We had a long journey today, and while she would never admit it to anyone, I believe my mother is quite tired and would like to return home and rest. Good night, Miss Foster.”

Anna wished him a good night in return and watched as he walked away. She couldn’t help but feel like something about this last interaction was off, strained. She could come up with no explanation as to why she felt this way though. He had been perfectly polite and had already been about to leave her side before William showed up. Why, then, could she not shake the feeling that something about their short interaction had caused Dean’s departure? With a frustrated sigh, she forced these thoughts from her mind and took some time to catch her breath before the next dance started.

Chapter 2

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @aylacavebear

#bullets and ballgowns #fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #mary winchester #original characters #original female character #dean winchester x ofc #regency era #non hunting au

[galacticwildfire]

Bobby's Daughter | Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester x Original Female Character

Dean and Stevie Singer have been inseparable since childhood. Now with Sam away at college and with their fathers no longer speaking they crave one another more than ever, and find that love they have for one another has changed as they’ve grown older.

When the demon who killed Stevie’s mother comes for her, Dean makes the decision to disobey his father’s orders to go after her, and the two of them hit the road, unable to deny what’s between them any longer.

Only to discover Azazel has the same fate planned for Stevie as Mary, which causes Dean to make a decision he can never take back while she herself battles with the most important decision of her life.

Both of them willing to do whatever it takes for their family, even if it means they hate each other forever.

A/N - Starts in 2002 with young Dean and Stevie, then jumps to season one and will continue through the first seasons loosely following canon.

Under construction/being rewritten

#dean fanfiction #dean winchester #dean #dean winchester x original character #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #bobby singer #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #wildfirewildflower #bobby's daughter #jensen ackles #dean winchester x female original character #fanfiction #smut

[justjensenandhisalteregos]

For the First Time

Chapter 2: Get it Girl!

WC: about 1.4k

Pairings: Dean Winchester x o/c Marie, (platonic) Sam Winchester x o/c Marie, and other o/c characters

Warnings: Fluff, language, suspense? Or maybe it’s angst? Dean admitting his feelings to himself? (That shouldn’t be a warning but what can you do?)

Authors Note: So I’m actually surprised that a couple people actually seem to like the things my brain comes up with, I like this chapter, writing is fun so I may as well live vicariously through my alter-ego, Marie. So sorry I’m later then I thought posting this...Enjoy chapter 2 y’all!

Marie’s POV

I can’t believe I have to lug this stupid thing around. I thought to myself looking in the floor length mirror at the bulky, red rollator walker in front of me. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I started walking slowly out to the kitchen smelling breakfast. As I turned the corner, I heard Sam and James’ voices in hushed tones.

“Morning, Ree.” Sam said between sips of coffee and glancing up from his laptop.

“Good morning Marie.” James added looking up from his plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

“Morning boys.” I say around a yawn.

“Coffee and breakfast are hot if you want any.” Sam said looking at me. I looked back at him mentally groaning. I knew that look. It was a look of pity. That was the last thing I wanted, I hated that people would now see not just me but my walking aide.

“Thanks Sammy.” I tried a smile.

“Do you need help?” He asked carefully. I sighed, but knew his heart was in the right place.

“I’ll need help getting some coffee, but I can just put my breakfast plate on the seat of the walker.

After I was sat at the table between Sam and James with breakfast and coffee, I glanced at the article Sam had up on his laptop, History of Cheyanne, Wyoming.

“Did you find a new case?” I asked, bacon midway to my lips.

“Yeah I got off the phone with Aunt Lynn right before you came out of your room. She said there’s a string of disappearances in Cheyanne.” Sam started.

“Does Lynn know what we’re dealing with?” James asked mid egg full of fork raised almost to his mouth.

“She thinks we’re dealing with a djinn.” Sam replied.

“A damn jinni?” Dean’s voice came so we could acknowledge his presence. I smiled at Dean from my place at the table. He winked.

“Morning, Sweetheart.” He added towards me.

“Morning, D.” I said smiling after I swallowed a bite of breakfast.

“What do you guys know about hunting djinn?” James asked towards Sam, Dean, and I as Dawn and Franklin and the pup made an appearance in the kitchen.

“From my research, djinn are found in ruins, places that have been long forgotten, deserted places.” Sam replied glancing up from his laptop.

Once we all finished breakfast, Dean spoke.

“Sammy, James, and I will go to Cheyanne and take care of this bastard. Dawn and Marie can stay here with Franklin and Little Foot and continue on research and holding down the fort.”

***

3rd Person POV

Marie sighed quietly to herself as she placed her empty plate and cup back on her walker seat to take to the sink. She knew she was in no physical condition to go on a hunt but she hadn’t realized just how depressed and sick to the stomach she would feel knowing she can’t be there to watch the boys’...watch Dean’s back.

Within a couple hours all three boys were packed and ready to go. Dawn kissed James goodbye and hugged Sam and Dean wishing them luck and safety. Marie hugged James and Sam wishing them the same. Dean came up to get a hug from Marie. With his arms stretched out for a hug, Marie held him tight.

“Please be safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Marie spoke hardly above a whisper.

“Ree, this is going to be a quick hunt, we’ll be back by the end of the week.” Dean said as comforting as he could.

As if her body had a mind of its own, Marie kissed Dean directly on the lips. Immediately Marie’s face flushed a deep crimson. Her eyes grew 3 sizes bigger realizing what she did. She bit her lip closing her eyes.

“I gotta go. I’ll be back soon.” Dean said quickly turning his back to Marie and went out to get in Baby as quickly as he could.

***

Marie’s POV

“What. The. Hell. I just kissed him.” I said staring at Dawn.

Dawn’s face was bright with a knowing smile.

“Get it girl!” She laughed. Franklin clapped his small hands smiling. Even Little Foot barked a “good job.”

“I need to go sit down. I’m gonna go to my room for a bit.” I said to Dawn. Turning I walked down the long hallway to my room. Shutting the door behind me, I walked to my bed and laid back. Pulling my phone off the charger on the bedside table, I opened my phone to text my aunt.

***

Dean’s POV

With the Bunker out of view, Sam looked at me with the biggest smirk I had every seen on his face.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked in an “I told you so fashion”.

“About?” I deadpanned in reply.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Marie is going to kill me... She likes you dean. She’s in love with your dumbass.”

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders for spilling her secret. James laughed out loud.

“That’s what this is about?” James started.

“Dean, brother, even I know that. Marie told Dawn about being in love with you like five years ago.” He added.

I remained silent continuing to drive to Wyoming replaying the kiss over and over in my head.

Marie loves my dumbass. She kissed me goodbye. Maybe we can have a shot of happiness after all?

Immediately my thoughts drifted to how I was going to go about this when I got back to her.

As if my thoughts came easier all a sudden, all I could think about was her soft lips.

How they sent a shock wave of tingles down my body. How my fingertips would feel tracing the curves of her breast and hips. How sexy she’d look in my bed wearing one of my flannels or band t’s and panties.

Smirking I looked down and saw just what she did, even though she wasn’t with me.

***

3rd Person POV

“If you can get on the therapy bed and lay on your back, I will raise your legs and put them in neutral to stretch while I use the massage gun to dissipate some of that tone.” Dr. Calvert, Marie’s neuro physical therapist said. Slowly, Marie sat on the bed and got into position.

For the next hour and a half they worked on stretching, vibration therapy, and walking with forearm crutches while she shared her life of what used to be hunting.

“Yeah, now all I can do is stay here and work behind the scenes while my best friends are doing the real work.” Marie said in frustration.

***

Dean’s POV

By 3:05 PM, Sammy, James, and I had rolled Baby into the town of Cheyanne. There was a lot of old, dilapidated buildings, a djinn’s paradise. Cheyanne was the oldest and biggest town in all of Wyoming.

This might actually be harder than I anticipated. I thought to myself as I continued down the main road to the closest motel. Ten minutes later I pulled into the Wyoming Motel. Once I grabbed a room with 3 queen beds and we got situated, Sam and James started doing more research.

“Hey I’ll be back in a bit.” I said quickly. Sam and James didn’t look up from Sam’s laptop but muttered their approval.

I jumped back into Baby and took a drive. Turning on the cassette, I lowered the volume as Imaginary Lover by Atlanta Rhythm Section started playing through the speakers. I drove for twenty minutes looking at all the buildings.

I’ve got to find this jinni and get back to Marie.

Chapter 3

#spn fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #Dean Winchester x original character

[pascaloverx]

Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and future adult content.

chapter one chapter two

PREVIEW

She didn't know what to say. Her publisher was about to choose another book instead of hers to launch. This was supposed to be her moment. After being the author of a bestseller, she was working hard to build her next sales success. But her fans and the publisher itself suggested that she spice up her narrative. The problem was that sex was something she hadn't done in a while. Sharing the apartment with her sister, she rarely thought about bringing someone to share the bed. So, in a desperate act, she sought him out. Perhaps her salvation. The failed neighbor who had a lot of success in romantic encounters; if they can be called that. The truth is that her next-door neighbor is the embodiment of everything that succeeds in a romance novel.

As for him, he prefers never to mix sentimentality with carnal pleasures. His last relationship still affects him a lot, so since then, he has only engaged in sexual encounters. He usually even tries to talk to the grumpy neighbor who lives across from his apartment. But she seems to disdain him, which ironically makes him even more interested.The problem is that he's feeling demotivated. Perhaps even lonely. His mother is about to give him an ultimatum to become more responsible, or she will stop supporting him. So he sees an opportunity in the neighbor's proposal. If his mother finds out that he's going to help a well-known (though almost declining) writer, maybe she'll leave him alone for a while.

But together, the two of them will try to get through this. Of course, if they can manage to go more than a few minutes without arguing.You are her, and he is none other than Dean Winchester. Follow along to discover how this story ends.

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #female reader #mary winchester #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural x reader #supernatural universe #john winchester #original character #supernatural #supernatural masterlist #enemies to lovers #jensen ackles characters #Spotify