#wow winchester bay i love that guy

[s11e17]

popping in to say i'm sorry to hear that and also your writing is so, so good. i get chills every time i read your work. got any excerpts or tidbits you'd like to share? anything you're especially proud of in past or current works?

wahh thank you so much anon! <3 <3

right now i'm kind of pleased over this little bit in the big bang fic - dean can't say "i love you" to cas, so instead, he asks him if he's ever been to the grand canyon.

Cas’s mouth tilts up sleepily, would be a smile if half of it wasn’t squashed against the pillow. He’d say it now, if he could, the thing that Cas deserves to hear, the thing Dean has never told anybody in his adult life.

Instead, he asks, “Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?”

also i started writing this like 15k pwp (the plot is basically that dean and cas keep having sex in dreams, aka put up your dukes but not as good) but i feel like it'll be ages before i actually finish it so here are the first two scenes (mostly under the cut bc its like 1600 words lmao):

The few times Castiel has been put under by a djinn, he hasn’t felt particularly disturbed by it. Dean flinches when djinn are mentioned. Sam is deeply distressed when the possibility of unreality is discussed. But Castiel is not so committed to this distinction as the Winchesters are.

Yes, undoubtedly, there are things that are real, and things that are, well, unreal. He likes the prefix un-. It implies a sense of reversal; undoing. Something is real, and then made fiction. Fiction, of the Latin fingo: to make. To invent. To create.

Things are, or they are not. If they are not, then they’re nothing — unless they’re something, in which case, they are. So on and so forth. This is to say, a djinn dream must be as real as Dean’s smile: both created and natural at once. Nature, creation, it is. I am that I am. We are.

This must surely be why Castiel is satisfied with being, when it comes to his love for Dean. Isn’t it enough to create? To speak, and to therefore move from nothing to something? From unformed feeling to articulated truth, Castiel has heaved himself down to Earth from out of the sun more times than he can remember. Dean is his lodestone, and Castiel dreams of him often. It is enough.

Sam’s the one to ask him, in the end. Castiel supposes that makes sense. Dean’s always aimed his comfort at Castiel’s shoulders and his stomach, offering back pats and warm meals, as if even his hands can’t meet Castiel’s gaze.

Sam invites Castiel out to the roof of the bunker to look at the sunset, while Dean is out buying supplies for his tune-ups from the 24 hour mechanic shop he likes to visit when the usual customers aren’t around. Castiel knows this because Dean once told him, once said that he liked to go when the guys were just “shootin’ the shit,” so to speak, liked to roll up with Baby and have them look her over and tell him he’s done a good job. Castiel knows he likes the camaraderie of it, likes having men touch his shoulders and slap his ass the way men do, the way Castiel does not.

So Castiel and Sam are on the roof. “It’s beautiful,” Castiel says.

“It’s real,” Sam says, as if in reply.

“Yes,” Castiel agrees. “It’s that, too.”

Sam sighs. His cheek twitches, and he looks at Castiel. His body is so big— that’s what Castiel thinks, whenever he looks at Sam Winchester. So much goodness, in that broad and wiry body— how could anyone beat him down? Castiel’s heart clenches with love for his brother, because that’s what Sam is to him. “You know— you know this is real, right?” Sam asks. “You know it’s not— you’re not— you’re not in the djinn— in the dream anymore.”

“I know.” Perhaps it’s some angelic power, which makes Castiel so certain of his place. “I know where I am.”

“Good. That’s good.” Sam sits back in his chair, then. “Do you— do you wanna talk about what you saw?”

It’s kind of Sam to phrase it that way. Dean would’ve asked him directly. He would’ve said, What did you see? And Castiel would’ve had to tell him.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask. In any case, Castiel says, “I’m happy to tell you if you’re curious.”

Sam huffs out a laugh. “Damn,” he says, “you’re well-adjusted.”

Castiel smiles, too. “I don’t have much to hide from you, Sam,” he says. And he thinks of Dean, who surely must know— who must feel the weight of Castiel’s desire every day. Dean sees how careful Castiel is. He sees Castiel’s hesitance to touch him, sees Castiel’s eyes shining when Dean makes dinner for him, and knows the depth of Castiel’s feeling. The depth of Castiel’s feeling drives Dean to the 24 hour mechanic shop whose men can give Dean what Castiel can’t.

But Dean comes home to Castiel, too.

“Okay,” Sam says, “sure. If you’re really okay with it, then yeah, I’d— I’d love to know what an angel dreams about.”

Castiel wonders how to say it. “We had a house,” Castiel starts, “me and Dean.”

It was a small house. Castiel remembers that vividly. It was tall enough to feel comfortable, but with only a single floor. Two bedrooms— their room, and a guest room. Roof access. It was the kind of house where you could bump shoulders with someone in the kitchen easily, the kind of house that built intimacy. Castiel remembers Dean standing in the back door with his coffee, face turned up to the sun, as he did every morning. He was so beautiful. He’d had a smile on his face, an easy and gentle smile. He’d taken a sip of his coffee, and said, glad we started shellin’ out for the good stuff, Cas, because he knew Castiel was behind him. After so long together, Dean could trust that Castiel would always want to watch him in the morning sunlight, freckles coming in across the bridge of his nose. Some days, Castiel would kiss his shoulder, and say, You are who I cherish most in my life. Do you know that? and every time, Dean would say, Yes, sweetheart. I know.

“We were so happy,” Castiel whispers. It’s all he can think to say. He looks at the sunset. Dean will come home in an hour with new parts for the ‘58 in the garage and a spring in his step, and Castiel will say, Welcome home, Dean, and Dean will say, Thanks, man. They will sleep in separate rooms. Dean has no need for the kind of love Castiel dreams of. Dean is already as happy as he will ever be. In his own way, in the way Dean has outlined with his words and his body, Dean has delineated what it is that he wants and what it is he finds unnecessary. Castiel is honored to fit almost entirely into what Dean wants. The only thing he wishes is that he could jettison the remains.

“Did you— did you know you were in a dream?”

“The whole time.”

“And you—” Sam cuts himself off. “Jesus. That’s— wow. Did it, uh… I mean, what did you feel?”

Castiel considers the question. “I think a better way to phrase it is that I knew it… I knew it wasn’t material. That what I was experiencing was a construction. But it’s not… that distinction isn’t meaningful to me, the way it likely is to humans.”

“No shit,” Sam barks, too aggressive to be a laugh. Castiel looks at him. He’s hunched over, knee wiggling. “It’s— it’s important to me to— to— to know what’s real. That means something to me. Being certain about what the truth is.”

“I understand.”

“But I can’t know,” Sam says, and he looks at Castiel. Half-chuckling still, he says, “I think about it every day, but I can’t know. And you do know, but you don’t care. How fucked is that?”

Castiel’s mouth twitches, but he isn’t happy. He knows Sam isn’t either. “I wish I could give you my certainty,” he says, and Sam looks away. “All I can say is that you are real. I see you. I sense you, in all ways.”

Sam nods. He breathes, deeply, and asks, “Do you miss it?”

Castiel doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. Does he miss his house with Dean, the warm sunlight through the bay windows, the way Dean’s hands would slide over Castiel’s thighs in the front of the Impala? “No,” he says, because he thinks also of Dean’s bunker kitchen chili, and his unfettered delight at cowboy movies. “No, I don’t think so. Once — you remember, with God — once Dean asked me what about all this was real.”

“Yeah. I had the same question.”

“I told him we are.”

Sam exhales. “Oh.”

“Maybe that’s why it doesn’t matter to me,” Castiel realizes. “I know that Dean and I are real, that our friendship is— is a truth which has shaped our paths, in all ways. Whether it’s a djinn dream or a material place, I know the truth.”

Sam nods, considers it. Eventually, he asks, “What made you wake up?”

“I tried the moment I first realized,” Castiel says. “And again, a few— what I perceived as a few weeks later. That was when you found me. The first time I was too weak to escape on my own, and the djinn captured me again.”

“Shit, Cas,” Sam breathes. “You— you— you did it twice?”

“I’ve killed more often for less,” Castiel says. “Killing myself was easy.”

Sam doesn’t ask. Perhaps they’ve all tallied each other’s body counts. Castiel wonders if Sam keeps a list of all the people Castiel has killed.

Instead, Sam says, “Well. Here’s a— okay. The distinction between dreams and real life doesn’t matter to you. I get that. My question is, is it right to say that the material world has— that it’s primary, I guess?”

It’s interesting, to attempt to apply dialectical materialism to an angel. But perhaps faithful to God’s original purpose. “You’ve seen Heaven,” Castiel says, working it out as he says it. “It’s nothing but memories. Consciousness. You’ve seen Hell, too.”

“Yeah.”

“The only way to describe these places is through metaphor. A hallway. A cage. Ripping, tearing. I think that tells us that Earth is where true creation happens. No matter what Chuck says or does, you create your own destiny. Here.”

“Shit.” Sam shakes his head. The sun has gone down; now, Sam and Castiel are accompanied by twilight mosquitoes, by stars coming in up above. “We make our own choices, huh.”

“We have to.” That’s perhaps what was wrong with the djinn dream, the reason why Castiel couldn’t stay there. It had nothing to do with whether it was real or not. It was about choice. That Dean in that back doorway of that sunlit house must have had no choice — because this Dean, his Dean, would’ve chosen otherwise.

#asks #anon #suicide tw #(fictional suicide to get out of a djinn dream) #agoodsoldier fic

[themrsdeanwinchester]

Two Souls - Part 1

Welcome to my first mini series! I had originally planned on this being a one shot but I got attached while writing it and it’s a story that is very close to my heart. I decided why not turn it into my very first mini series! I say mini because I don’t plan on it being longer than four, five parts tops. But that could change. We will see how it goes. :) In this series, Dean has retired from hunting but still lives in the bunker with Sam.

I’m the only one who has read this, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. I read it and did my best to find all my errors. You can find more of my work here.

Pairing: Dean x female reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being adorable. Possible trigger warnings in future parts of the story.

Word Count: 3,866

Series Summary: Dean starts a job working as a mechanic as a locally owned auto shop. The owner’s daughter, who works at the shop, makes Dean’s heart ache from the moment he sets eyes on her. But, does she feel the same way? What will her dad think? When her life starts crumbling, is it Dean who will be there for her and help her pick up the pieces?

I would love feedback, please :) Also, please send me a message/ask if you'd like to be added to my tag list.

Dean pulled his Impala into a spot at David’s Auto Shop for his interview with the owner and office manager. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked at the shop bays, all seven of them full of cars. The shop was a busy one because it was popular with the locals. The owner, David, was well respected and had been in business for over twenty years. Dean was nervous that his resume wouldn’t impress the veteran mechanic since he had never worked for an auto shop before. 

He got out of the Impala and ran his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He had chosen his nicest plaid shirt, buttoned all the way up to the collar and tucked into his jeans. He had done his best to clean up his boots but they were still stained. 

Dean approached the shop, resume in hand. He grabbed the door, took another deep breath and stepped inside the shop. The phones were ringing off the hook, mechanics were running in and out of the door from the shop to grab keys, put paperwork on the counter and answer the phones.

A husky, tall man with broad shoulders walked through the door and set his gaze on Dean.

“How can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m here for an interview,” Dean said. He glanced at the man’s name patch. He was the owner.

“You must be Dean. I’m David.” He extended his left hand to Dean. Out of instinct, Dean reached out his right hand to shake David’s. Only to fumble and change to his left. David laughed. “I’m left handed. My handshake always throws everyone off. Go through that doorway,” David pointed to Dean’s right, “and the first door on your right is the office manager’s office. I’ll meet you in there. She’s expecting you.” 

Dean crossed the lobby and into the hallway. To his left was a hallway that lead to the shop and  a few feet ahead he could see the office manager’s door. As he approached it, he could hear music. To his delight, it was Led Zeppelin. When he entered the room, the woman looked up at him from the desk and his jaw slightly dropped. He hadn’t been expecting a woman as beautiful as she was. He stood there staring for a moment until she broke the silence.

“Hi. You must be Dean.” She stood up and walked around the desk. Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes travel up and down her body. She was wearing jeans that fit just right, hugging her curves in all of the right places and that flared slightly around her boots. She was wearing a plain black V-neck shirt with a mechanics shirt that matched David’s “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She extend her hand to Dean with a blinding smile on her face.

When Dean took her hand, he was surprised at how soft her skin was despite her very firm handshake. “Y-Yeah. Dean. Nice to meet you, too,” he stuttered.

David saved him by walking in the door. “I see you’ve met my daughter,” he said. “Turn the radio down.” He gestured to Y/N who turned the nob down to a whisper.

“Oh, I didn’t know she was your daughter,” Dean said. He looked back at Y/N who just smiled again.

“Shall we get started?” She suggested, taking a seat behind her desk again. 

Dean sat in a chair across from her and David sat next to Y/N. 

“So, Dean. It doesn’t look like you have ever worked as a mechanic before,” Y/N said, looking over his short resume. “But you say you’ve got a few decades of experience.” She looked up at Dean.

“No, I mean yes. Well, no I haven’t ever worked as a mechanic for a shop before but I do have a lot of experience. My dad taught me a lot and then I also learned as I went. I have rebuilt my car a few times. I do all of my own work on her. My other dad, well, my adopted dad, kind of, he owned a junk yard. I worked on a lot of cars at his place as well,” Dean explained. He took another deep breath and cursed himself for fumbling so much. 

Y/N and her dad nodded, exchanged a glance and Y/N smiled a little.

“I am mostly self taught as well,” David said to Dean. “Just classes in high school and college, mostly because it’s the only subjects I liked,” he chuckled. 

“It says you have been self employed all your life. Winchester Brothers. What did you do?” Y/N asked.

“My brother and I were in the business of... pest control.” Dean widened his eyes a little, realizing he didn’t actually know anything about exterminating bugs. He prayed they didn’t ask him details.

Again, the daughter and father duo nodded. Dean used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. He hadn’t been this nervous about anything in awhile. It didn’t help that every time he looked at Y/N, his heart lurched as if it were reaching out to her.

“Dean,” David’s voice brought Dean back down to earth. “I like you. And I’m always right about people. You’ve got yourself a job. Y/N will get your shirt size and have a few made for you. I’ve got to get back out there. I’ve got an engine I need to finish a rebuild on by the end of the day.” David stood up, stumbled a little and groaned.

Y/N jumped jump. “Dad, why don’t you take it easy. I can finish the rebuild for you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. She listened to Led Zeppelin, was beautiful, and could work on cars? He was impressed.

“I’m fine,” David snapped, causing Y/N to recoil and plop back down behind her desk. “Can you start tomorrow?” David directed at Dean.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great, see you at 7:30AM. We might have some old shop shirts you can wear until Y/N gets yours in. Have a good one.” With that, David lumbered out the door and disappeared.

Dean looked back at Y/N. Her eyes were glistening with tears but he could tell she was holding them back. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up, blinking back the tears. “Yes. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “What size are you, Dean?”

He loved the way she said his name. It was heavenly. “Large.”

“Okay. I’ll order you five shirts. Do you have a nickname you’d like on the name patch or is Dean ok?”

“Dean is fine. I don’t have a nickname.” Dean was now able to see the name patch on her shirt. It said Bud. “Is Bud your boyfriend?” He asked before his brain could tell his mouth stop.

Y/N looked down at her name patch. “Oh, no. My dad calls me Bud. Has ever since I was a kid. I have one or two with my actual name on it but the ones that say Bud are my favorite,” she explained as she stood up. “Come with me. I’ll get you a few shirts for the rest of the week. Your shirts should be in by next Monday.”

Dean followed Y/N out of her office and down the hallway. Next to a door labeled Parts there was a coat closest. Y/N rummaged through it looking for shirts. She handed him four.

“That’ll get through until Friday and Monday morning I should have yours in. Oh, what kind of car do you have?”

“67 Impala.”

Y/N eyes widened a little. “Can I see it?” Her voice was bubbling over with excitement. 

“Absolutely.”

Y/N followed Dean outside. “Wow,” she breathed. “She’s gorgeous. How long have you had her?”

“A couple decades,” Dean answered. He watched as her hand hovered over the hood. He could tell she wanted to touch it, run her hands along the shiny and warm metal. She curled her fingers and retracted her hand. “You can touch her,” Dean said through a small laugh.

Y/N turned to him, a smile on her face. She gently placed her hand on the hood, soaking up the beauty of the Impala. “I might have to talk to you into letting me drive her someday.”

Dean laughed. “Maybe. I barely let my brother drive her.”

“Fair enough. I won’t let anyone drive my truck.”

“What do you have?”

“66 Ford F100. Caribbean Turquoise. It was my dad’s first truck. I helped him rebuild it a few years ago.” She turned to face Dean. “Want to see it?” Her smile was so big, there was no way Dean could say no.

He followed Y/N around back and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw her truck. It stood out, the Caribbean Turquoise bright and shiny compared to the darker and more neutral toned cars around it.

“Oh, wow. It’s nice. How long did it take you guys to rebuild?” Dean peeked through the window. The interior was the same color, even the seat. The inside was immaculate.

“A few months. We had an advantage, owning a shop and all,” Y/N said, gesturing up at the building. She looked at the shop for a long time. Dean watched as she admired it and her eyes started to glisten again. “Well,” she broke the silence. She curled her index fingers under her eyes, pushing her eyes closed to soak up the tears. “We will see you in the morning, Dean. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow,” Dean said with a wave. He watched Y/N disappear around the building before making his way back to his Impala and driving away.

Three months into working for David’s shop, Dean had managed to learn a few things about Y/N. She loved classic rock, the Doors, 13th Floor Elevators and Zeppelin being her favorites. One of those three was always playing in her office. She was just as good as any one else in the shop at working on cars. She filled in when other mechanics called out or were on vacation. She also had a few of her own regulars who only would let her work on their cars. Her favorite color was Y/F/C and she loved rainy days. He also never once saw her wear a shirt with her actual name on it, only ones with Bud. 

Christmas time had rolled around and the company holiday party was on a Saturday night at a local pizza parlor. Everyone was allowed to bring their families or partner with them and Dean was anxiously waiting to see it Y/N would bring anyone with her. He’d never heard her talk about anyone at work. Never even saw her take a phone call to anyone but customers or vendors. No one stopped by to see her either. Just customers.

In the back seat of the Impala Dean had a gift for Y/N. It was a scarf in her favorite color. He had picked a scarf because sometimes, when he’d stop by her office to say good morning, she had the collar of her shirt pulled up. He asked her why and she said it was always cold in her office in the winter time. It was practical but also thoughtful. 

Dean walked into the pizza parlor. It was nice and warm inside so he shrugged off his jacket and straightened out his plaid shirt. He surveyed the room until he saw some of his co-workers, including David, in the very back. They all threw their heads back in laughter. Beer pitchers were empty on the table but not for long. Soon he saw Y/N walking over, gripping the handles of four beer pitchers, two in each hand. She spread them out across the table before turning towards the door. Her eyes landed on Dean and she smiled. She waved enthusiastically at him and made her way through the crowd.

“Dean!” She said, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Dean smiled, the smell of her shampoo tickling his nose. “Pizza and beer at the table already. I’ll grab you a cold glass.”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, I’ll go get it,” Dean protested.

“I’m going back up there to grab my dad another soda, I’ll grab it. Join everyone else.” She smiled and walked away towards the counter. He watched her go, her steps a little jagged from the beer she’d been drinking. He smiled to himself and approached the table.

Everyone greeted Dean cheerfully. He was introduced to everyone’s guests they had brought with them and he did his best to keep up with everyone’s names and which kids belonged with which couple. A beer was set down in front of him. He looked up to find Y/N standing above him. He smiled and thanked her. She sat down in the empty seat next to him with her own beer.

“I got us special ones. It’s actually my favorite from a local brewery. I hope you like IPAs.” She put the glass to her lips, taking a generous drink. “Try it!” She smiled at Dean, making his heart flutter. 

He complied, his eyes growing large. “This is really good!”

“Told ya,” she smirked. “Pizza?” Y/N put two big slices of pizza on a plate and sat it down in front of Dean before he could answer. She then helped herself to some as well. Dean couldn’t help but smile. A girl who liked pizza and beer. There she goes, he thought, checking more things off my list. A list he didn’t even realize he had until he’d met her.

As the night wore on, people started leaving. A few of the kids had crawled into the laps of their parents and fallen asleep. Their group got thinner and thinner until it was just Dean, Y/N and her dad.

“I’m heading home, Bud.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Dean, thanks for coming.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Can you make sure, Y/N gets home okay? She walked here and it’s kind of late.” David eyed his daughter who was sipping on another beer.

“Definitely, sir.” 

As everyone left, Dean turned to Y/N. “Are you ready to head home?”

“I guess…” Y/N trailed off. She was lost in thought for a second. She downed the rest of her beer. “Alright, let’s go.” She stood up and lurched towards Dean, putting her hands onto his chest to catch herself. Dean instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps.

“Whoa there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I am definitely a little bit buzzed.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks growing red.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean assured her.

Dean lead Y/N out to his Impala and opened the door for her. He let her get in on her own, his hand close by just in case she needed it. 

“Oh! I’m honored to get a ride in Dean Winchester’s Impala,” she remarked. She looked up at him from the passenger seat, an enormous grin on her face. Dean couldn’t help but think she looked perfect in the passenger seat, as if she was always meant to be its passenger.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of Y/N’s house. It was a modest home in a nice neighborhood. All of the homes were older, built in the 50’s. Y/N’s was light green with a white porch and steps. Her F100 was parked in the drive way. It was the only car there, Dean observed.

“Do you want to come inside?” Y/N’s invitation caught Dean off guard.

“We won’t wake anyone up?” Dean posed the question carefully. He was prying for an answer, but didn’t want to be too obvious that he was trying to figure out if she was taken or not.

“Nope. This is my place. Just me. Party of one.” She smiled, her eyes slightly glassy.

Dean hesitated a moment. He got his answer but since Y/N had been drinking, he didn’t want her or her dad to get the wrong idea about him taking her home and ending up inside her house. He did want to give her the gift he’d gotten her though. “Okay. I have a gift for you.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really? I actually have something for you, too,” she said quietly.

Dean smiled and his heart, again, leaped forward, always in the direction of Y/N. “Let’s get inside, it’s getting cold.” Dean got out of his Impala, grabbed the gift box from behind his seat, and then walked around to open Y/N’s door. He held out his hand to assist her. She took it, squeezing his slightly as she hoisted herself out of the car. 

He followed her up to the door, she fumbled with her keys, first using the wrong one. “Oops, that’s my dad’s. They look the same as mine. Here it is!” The door creaked as she opened it. She stepped in side. “Welcome to my humble little home.” She gestured for Dean to come inside.

Y/N’s house had all hardwood flooring and was accented with Y/F/C, her favorite, and smelled like cinnamon. She walked over to the small Christmas tree she had in the corner and turned its lights on. The lights were white and the ornaments were all different kinds. There was no theme to her tree, just random ornaments she liked, ones that reminded her of people, places, and things. She grabbed one of the presents from under the tree. 

“Let’s sit on the couch and open them together.” She made her way to her couch and plopped down. She patted the cushion beside her, beckoning Dean to sit with her.

As soon as he sat down, Y/N shoved his gift from her into his lap. “Open it! I’m terrible at keeping secrets when it comes to gifts.” The grin on her face was bigger than he’d ever seen it before. 

He chuckled as he unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a few things. First was a nice, heavy duty travel coffee mug with his name on it. “So the guys at the shop know it’s yours” Y/N said through a laugh. One time, Dean and another mechanic had gotten their coffees mixed up. The other mechanic liked his coffee extremely creamy and sweet, Dean liked his black. Y/N had witness them both spit out each others coffee all over the shop floor. Next was a picture of Dean’s Impala in front of David’s shop. It was from a low angle, the car taking up the foreground with the shop’s sign hovering over it. There were raindrops on the Impala and the sky above was dark and angry. He looked at it in awe. It was a beautifully crafted shot.

“I thought it was a neat picture,” Y/N said quietly with a shrug.

“Did you take this?” Dean turned to her, awestruck. She nodded her head, a small, closed mouth smile on her face. “I love it. It’s… it’s a really beautiful shot. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Y/N smiled. “There’s one more thing in there.”

At the bottom of the box was a black mechanics jacket with Dean’s name on it. He pulled it out and turned it around to reveal the shop’s name on the back.

“That one is from my dad and me. Only he and I have one. And now you,” Y/N half whispered.

Dean turned to her, overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity she, and her dad, had shown him. They took a chance hiring him and now, they were giving him a jacket, something that clearly held a special meaning for the two of them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’re so happy to have you be part of the shop family.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean taking in his gifts and Y/N watching him. He gently placed his gifts back into his box before handing Y/N hers.

“Now I feel like I should have gotten you a little more…” Dean trailed off.

“No,” Y/N said, dragging out the O’s, and waving Dean’s remark off with her hand. She pulled the bow off of the decorative box and popped the lid off. She pulled out the Y/F/C scarf Dean had picked out. She ran her hands over it, taking in how soft the fabric was. She wrapped it around her neck and looked up at Dean. “You remembered my favorite color.”

“Of course,” Dean said through a grin, his voice hushed. “Now you won’t be so cold in your office in the mornings.”

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” Y/N pulled the ends of the scarf forward, taking in the details and feeling the warmth around her neck.

She looked up at him, and held his gaze for a moment. Then, she closed the gap between them to place a soft kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, Dean took a deep breath. He’d been wanting to kiss her for months and he didn’t want to stop now.

“It’s late. I should get going.” Dean stood up, gathering up his gift box.

Y/N followed suit, still wearing her scarf as she walked Dean to her door. He stepped out onto the porch and spun around to face her. She was holding onto the door, letting it support her. But not because she had been drinking, no. It was for a different reason. It was because kissing Dean had taken her breath away and made her knees weak. Her hands were trembling and she needed to steady herself, not wanting him to notice what he’d done to her, what he’d been doing to her since they had met in her office months prior. She had been pining for Dean, but she was so sure he had a significant other. There was no way a man as handsome, kind, funny, caring, and… her list went on. But there as no way, so she thought, that a man like Dean was single. 

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Dean’s question pulled Y/N from her thoughts.

“I’d love that.” Her answer was quick, zero hesitation, and Dean noticed.

“Pick you up at 6?”

“I’ll be ready. Casual or fancy?” Y/N questioned.

“Which one would you like?” 

“Casual.”

“Casual it is, sweetheart.” Dean smiled, wished her good night and almost skipped back to his Impala.

Y/N waved to Dean in his car and closed the door, locking it tight behind her. She leaned back against it, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She had a date, for the first time years. And, it was with the man of her dreams.

Tags: @akshi8278​, @notan-applepielife​

There is a pinned post with my Masterlist on my blog. Thank you for reading! 

#Dean Winchester #Dean x reader #Dean x female!reader #Dean x fem!reader #Supernatural fic #Dean fic #Dean drabble #Dean fanfiction #Supernatural #SPN #SPN Family #Jensen Ackles #Jensen x reader #Jensen deserved better #Dean deserved better #Dean feels #Dean!girl #Deans girls

[queen-of-deans-booty]

A Whole New World

Characters: Dean Winchester x Virgin!Reader,

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, mental illnesses, no self esteem, depressed!reader, very small mention of killing oneself

Summary: You decided to move in with Dean into the Bunker. It’s a new home, a new life, and a whole lot of new monsters you’ve never heard of. Are you sure you can handle all of the “new”? Is Dean worth it?

Part One

Author’s Note: This is the second part of six parts of the commission for @sea040561​​​.

You can’t believe you’re actually moving into the Bunker with Sam and Dean. Jody had a long talk with you when she managed to convince you that this is what you needed. You’re forty-six, a virgin, never really had a boyfriend, and you need new friends. It does no one good that you’re sitting alone in her house all the time. At least with living inside the Bunker, you get to have company. It’s big enough to warrant you space when you need it, but it’s small enough to be close to your new roommates.

Castiel and Jack are bubbly creatures, and you have to remind yourself that Jack is barely a year old, so he has a lot left to learn. Castiel at least knows to keep his distance when you look like you need it, so you’re grateful for that. Dean has been nothing but kind to you ever since he met you, and you honestly don’t know why. He could spend time with some other woman, so why is he wasting his time with you?

Your anxiety keeps you from speaking up about it, so you just let it simmer deep inside you until it eventually comes out in the form of a depressive episode or some shit like that. As soon as you get to the underground Bunker, he leads you to his room. There are a lot of rooms much like an apartment building. This place is huge, and you know you’ll get lost just trying to go to the bathroom.

Your new room is bare except for a bed, a dresser, and a night table. If you want to make this your new home/comfort place, you’re going to need to go shopping for a lot of things that makes you forget you’re living in a world with monsters. Dean can sense how nervous you are, and he chuckles at the thought of the memory of when he and Sam first found this place.

“I know this can be overwhelming, but you’re not alone in this,” he states.

You’re not alone. The sentence brings tears to your eyes, but you force them at bay so he doesn’t see you cry. You’re ugly enough as it is, you don’t need to add tears to that.

“Thanks, Dean.”

“I can help, you know, make it your own if you want.”

“No, thanks. I think I can manage,” you chuckle.

“Okay, well, take all the time you need. When you’re ready, come to the library. We can get you familiar about this place and what we do.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Dean leaves the room a few moments later, and you take a seat on the empty bed. You thought you could handle this. You thought that coming here might be a good thing for you, but you’re not so sure anymore. Dean’s words float in the back of your mind, reminding you of how nice he is to you.

You’re not alone in this.

No, I’m good right here.

Wow look at you. You look amazing.

It could be fun having you there with us. I know I’d like it. Think about it. You don’t have to be alone anymore.

He doesn’t have to be nice to you, so why is he? Why now? Why are you now having some care for you in all the ways you wished? Why not before? What did you do in your life to deserve someone like Dean Winchester? You’re only feeling shittier about yourself because of this because you know you don’t deserve it. No one has ever been this nice to you, so you know he is only trying to be polite. Does that mean he never wanted you here? Was Jody pressuring him to ask you to move in?

You feel more alone now than ever, and you don’t know why. You have four great people waiting for you in the library, excited to have you live with them. Why are you beating yourself over this? Salt covers your bottom lip, and you realize that you’re crying. A panic attack is making its way up your body, but you have to force it down if you’re going to pretend that everything is fine. This is so overwhelming, chaotic, and stressful for you. Everything was so much easier when it was just you and Jody.

You have to tell Dean you don’t want to do this anymore. You’re going to be a burden to this family because you don’t know how to kill monsters or what all of them are, so all you’re going to be is in the way. Your heart pumps faster, your breathing picks up, and your chest starts to tighten. Your hands ball into fists so hard that your nails dig into the palms of your hands. If you feel pain during your panic attacks, then you can feel somewhat grounded.

You’re the only one who can help you through them, so you had to learn how to make them go away on your own. The indents from the last panic attacks are still there, so your nails bust the wounds open. Drops of blood spill over your fingers the harder you dig your nails in. Along with the deep breaths you’re taking, the panic attack comes dormant inside your body.

There will be time to set up your room later, but you don’t know if you’ll get the chance to. You can’t stay here, and you have to tell them that. You abandon your room and head over to the library. Everyone is gathered around one table, and you stalk right up to the table to give them the news. When Dean sees you, his smile grows on his face, and that halts you in your steps.

How can you say no to him? How can you wipe that smile off his face? He looks so happy that you’re here, so how can you take that away from him? Maybe you can learn to love it here, you just have to give them a chance. The rest of the men look happy that you’re here too, and that is the only reason why you’re not going to tell them you want to leave.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Y/N, this is Castiel and Jack,” Sam introduces. “We haven’t properly met either. I’m Sam.”

“I know who you are,” you chuckle and take a seat at the head of the table so that no one is sitting next to you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” Jack smiles.

Wait, what? Who was talking about you? What were they saying? Bad things? Do they hate you? Dean senses the panic in your eyes, and he is quick to shut those bad thoughts down.

“It was all good things, I promise,” he chuckles.

“So, what are you guys doing?” you ask.

“We’re getting ready for a hunt. I hear you’re fairly new to this all?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I was attacked by some vampires when I was visiting--” you stop yourself short at the thought of your sister being dead, so you change the subject. “Anyway, I don’t know much about monsters. I didn’t even know it existed.”

“We have some time before we need to prep. We can explain some stuff now,” Dean smiles.

“Okay, that sounds great,” you chuckle.

“Well, we don’t want you going on hunts right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be prepared if something were to happen,” Sam explains. “We mostly see creatures like vampires, djinns, ghouls, shapeshifters, demons, and angels.”

“And you’re an angel?” you ask Castiel and then look at Jack. “And you’re a half-angel?”

“A Nephilim if you want to be correct,” Jack smiles.

“Who made you half-angel?”

“Lucifer.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think we’re getting off topic,” Dean interrupts. “You know about vampires, but to kill them, all it takes is a machete to the head. Dead Man’s Blood works as well, but you’d have to have enough of it to kill them. Decapitation is a lot better.”

“Then we have Djinns which are monsters that are kind of like genies, but murderous. They use poison to feed off your blood while giving you everything you wish inside your head. To kill them, you need a silver dagger dipped in lamb’s blood,” Sam explains.

“I’m more curious about demons and angels.”

“Angels are dicks,” Dean blurts, and then looks at Castiel who just gives him a bitch-face. “No offense.”

“Yes, well, some of us are… dicks… but not all. We’re very hard to kill, but an angel blade has to be used,” Castiel says.

“There’s an angel blade?”

“And a demon knife,” Jack beams.

He’s just too happy, but then again, he is just a kid.

“A demon knife?”

“Demons are like ghosts but with a soul. They’re assholes and will take every opportunity to inflict pain. There are several ways to kill them, and yes, the demon knife is one of them. Exorcising is also an option, and we can teach you the incantation later,” Sam says.

“Ghouls are creatures that are born, not made. They feed on the blood and flesh of the dead, so they mainly hang out in cemeteries. To kill them is to completely destroy their head, so bashing them in works pretty good. Rawheads are dangerous, but we’ve only seen them a few times in our whole life. They are creatures that love to feed off children, and the only way to kill them is by electrocution,” Dean takes over.

They go on to tell you lots of things about the monsters they hunt. For instance, shapeshifters can only shift into other people when they have their DNA, and silver is the only way to kill them. Werewolves turn on the full moon and eat hearts, and silver is also their weakness too. Wraiths have this long spiky stick that comes out of their wrists so they can eat parts of the brain, and while silver is their weakness too, mirrors can show their true forms.

There are a whole lot more monsters out there, but there is so much your brain can handle all at once. They started with the easy monsters, but you know you’ll get to learn about all of them in time. You don’t think you are going to be able to do this. You’re not fit enough to run from monsters, you’re not strong enough to take them down, and you’re not smart enough to know how to handle them. You’re two hundred and fifty pounds, overweight, and not that smart. You’ll never pass for a hunter, much less a good one.

By the time you learned all that you could, it was already dark. The Bunker has no windows, but you can tell it’s dark based on how tired you feel. You’re tired all the time, but your body starts to feel exhausted whenever it starts to become late.

“I think this is a good time to stop,” you chuckle.

“Yeah, we need our sleep for tomorrow,” Sam says and turns to you with a kind smile. “Don’t worry. You won’t be alone, Jack will be here with you.”

“Dean taught me how to play foosball,” Jack grins childishly.

“Good for you,” you nod.

“We should all get some sleep. It’s been a long day,” Dean says.

The group disperses from the library, and you immediately head to your room. Dean can see on your face that you’re overwhelmed by this all, and he can also sense discomfort. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable because he knows how this all might look. You need to be eased into it, and he’s more than happy to help you try.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asks when he knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, I will be. It’s a lot,” you sigh.

“You didn’t decorate?”

You open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. You close it and shrug, looking down at the floor.

“I won’t be a good unter. I’ll just end up getting everyone here killed,” you whisper.

“Death means nothing to us, if we’re being honest here,” he says and takes a seat next to you. “With enough practice, you can be a great hunter if that’s what you want. We won’t force you to go out there and risk your life.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“And that’s okay too. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions or concerns.”

“Say I practice, okay? Say I practice to be the best… What if I still manage to get someone killed?” you ask and look at him.

“That’s a possibility, and if we’re still being honest with each other, I’ve gotten almost all of my friends killed. But if you’re worrying about keeping other people alive, then you’ll get killed.”

Would that be such a bad thing? The only reason you’re alive today is because you never had the guts to kill yourself.

“Take this one day at a time. Get some sleep,” he says.

He touches your hand with his before getting up. He leaves your room without another glance, and you have nothing left to do but ponder his words. Would you be a good hunter? Would you live long enough to know?

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#supernatural commission #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff #spn angst

[winchesterwords]

“You and I” John Winchester x F!Reader

Summary:  Set before the boys raid the vampire nest to get the colt, John visits you to get insight on which vamps have it. Owning a bar, you are a highway of information for the supernatural and an “old friend” of johns. How will he react around you while his sons meet you for the first time?

Word Count: 3753

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, lil steamy moment

Song I Wrote To: “You and I” by Lady Gaga

Note: This is a bit canon divergence but I liked the concept. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t write smut, but I hope this lil steamy moment was okay. I don’t see enough John fics on here or ao3 so I wanted to do something. I wish we would have gotten more of his character. Tho i think that’s just cause I love JDM so much. 

-------

In the dark of a lone American road, a 67’ Impala rolled along the rain-slicked street. 

“You have that look on your face again,” Dean Winchester said, looking over at his brother. Sam turned to him, confused. 

“What look?” he asked. 

“The look that says you want to either punch Dad or punch him twice,” Dean said with a knowing glance. 

“I just don’t get why he won’t tell us where we’re going,” Sam said with a deep sigh as he stared at the taillights of their father’s truck ahead of them. “He just has to make everything so damn mysterious.” Dean laughed as his thumbs drummed on the steering wheel. 

“You’re just realizing that now, Sammy? Dad has always been like this, but he knows what he’s doing. Always does.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sam grumbled and Dean rolled his eyes. In their search for the colt, they had gotten word that the break-in was perpetrated by a nest of vampires. The problem was, they weren’t sure where to start when it came to the bloodsuckers. Then, John had mentioned he knew someone who could give them a hand. That was all he said before jumping in his truck and telling his boys to follow him. Sam and Dean had done what they were told and revved the Impala’s engine, but now, Sam was getting restless. 

----

John Winchester drove with an eagerness.

He knew where he was going.  He had the route memorized no matter which direction he was coming from. You were the kind of woman that he couldn’t forget even if he tried. There was something about the way you didn’t take any bullshit when it came to anyone. Then there was the fact that you handled a sawed-off shotgun as well as any hunter he had ever met. John always liked keeping you to himself, his own personal getaway when things were getting a bit too dark for his tastes. 

However, unfortunately, this visit would not be a social one. He needed your help and he was running out of options to find the colt. If anyone knew where to find a vamp nest with a desire for a mystical gun, it would be you.

John hit the gas and sped down the road, keeping Sam and Dean in his rearview mirror. He was actually nervous for once. There was so much of his life that he kept private from his sons. Dean knew a bit more than Sam, but they didn’t know about you. They didn’t know about how you had saved his life twice or that you had asked him to stay with you on multiple occasions, but he couldn’t. You always understood that he had a mission to complete. Not just for Mary, but for his boys as well and you respected that even when all you wanted was a bit more time with the man, just as he did with you. 

Turning off the highway, John rolled into a town that seemed like coming home. Dean followed him through the winding streets as John drove straight for your bar. You had owned “The Iron Outpost” since before you had met the eldest Winchester. The entire building was lined with pure iron to keep unwanted spirits at bay. Not to mention the devil’s traps at both entrances and holy water you added to all the drinks.

You were pretty lenient with most supernaturals such as wolves, witches, even the odd vampire on occasion, but demons was where you drew the line. They never got past the door and if they tried, they would be met by you or your business partner, Dawn, who was also a hunter. The two of you had become an information highway for everything going on in the supernatural world and that was why the Winchesters were now at your doorstep. 

Parking in front of the Outpost, John got out of his truck just as his sons pulled in. Sam still looked annoyed as he got out of the Impala, but Dean just looked confused. “Alright, Dad,” Dean said, “what’s going on? Who is this secret contact of yours.”

“Never said she was a secret, Dean,” John said, “I just said you had never met her.” 

“She?” Sam asked. 

“She’s a hunter,” John said, nodding towards the front door. “Sort of.” 

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before following John into the bar. It was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night. The low hum of conversation rolled throughout the room as drinks were poured and food was served. Dean immediately spotted the odd charms that hung around the main entrance, as well as the warding symbols carved into the door frame.

There were two levels in the place and people milled about on both floors, smiling and drinking their fill. It was a typical place to find hunters and Dean immediately loved it. Sam was still a bit skeptical but remained optimistic that this place would offer answers. 

John searched the floor for you, but could only spot Dawn as she worked behind the bar, smiling at patrons. Moving further into the bar, John kept his eyes peeled for you. “Is she meeting us here?” Sam asked. 

“She owns the bar,” John said, turning to his youngest. “She should be around here somewhere…”

“Closer than you think, Winchester,” a voice came from above and John visibly relaxed as your voice reached him. Looking up at the balcony on the second floor, he finally spotted you. Grinning, you turned and jogged down the stairs. John’s eyes followed you as you approached him and the boys. 

“(Y/N),” he greeted with a smile. 

“Heya, Handsome,” you said as you walked up to him. “I’ve missed you,” you whispered as you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. John smiled down at you, taking in your face as if he was trying to memorize it. “And I see you’ve brought guests,” you said, peering over his shoulder. Though, it didn’t take long for the pieces to fit together in your mind. “Or should I say, family.”

“(Y/N),” John said, “these are my boys, Sam and Dean,” he introduced, gesturing to each of his sons. You shook both of their hands, smiling. 

“Wow, John, you never mentioned how tall they were,” you said, looking at Sam with amusement in your eyes. The youngest Winchester chewed on the inside of his lip, awkwardly. Turning back to John, you sat into a single hip, crossing your arms. “What are you doin’ back in my neck of the woods?” you asked. 

“Need your help on something, (Y/N),” he said and you recognized his tone of voice immediately. This wasn’t going to be one of your more...entertaining visits. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, giving him your full attention. 

“We may need a bit more privacy for this conversation,” he said, glancing around and you instantly understood. 

“That kind of ‘something’, huh?” John nodded, “Alright, boys. Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll start closin’ up early. I’ll send Dawn over with a bottle,” you said. John reached out and squeezed your arm. 

“Thanks,” he said. You sent him a wink and then disappeared to start clearing out customers. John led his sons over to the table he always sat at when he came to visit. Shrugging out of his coat, he leaned back and watched as you spoke to Dawn across the bar, gesturing to the three men in the corner. 

“Dad?” Dean said, gaining John’s attention. “How exactly do you know her?” John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I met her a few years ago,” John began, “I was on a hunt not too far from here. Some large-scale haunting and I hadn’t realized there was more than one ghost. These were nasty spirits. Salt slowed them down, but every time I turned around, three more would show up. I was being cornered by at least four of them and I was out of rounds when (Y/N) showed up and showered them in salt,” John chuckled slightly at the memory. “Woman was like Rambo with a salt grenade and then she hauled my ass out of there.” 

“So you got your ass handed to you by a chick?” Dean asked, amused. John shrugged. 

“Twice actually,” he continued. “She came with me to salt and burn the bones when a vamp came out of nowhere. Freshly turned one too. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast with a machete.”

“But I thought you said she wasn’t a hunter,” Sam said. 

“I said she was sort of a hunter,” John corrected. “(Y/N) hunts when she can. Mostly local things to keep her town safe, but she has other...talents. (Y/N) is connected in the world of the supernatural. She always knows what is going on within the monster world.”

“What? Like having Wolfman on speed dial?” Dean asked and Sam kicked him under the table. Dean threw a glare at his little brother, annoyed. 

“Kind of,” John said, “it’s complicated.” Dean pursed his lips but didn’t press the issue as Dawn arrived with a bottle of bourbon and four glasses. She dropped them on the table. “Thanks, Dawn,” John said. Dawn grinned at him. 

“Good to see you, John,” she said. “Things have been a bit boring around here since you left.” 

“You know me, D, gotta keep moving,” he said and she rolled her eyes. 

“Right,” she said with a knowing look. “Alright, you guys have a good night, I’m heading out.” Dawn nodded to the boys and then gripped John’s shoulder as she headed for the back, ready to have an early night. Dean poured the drinks and handed them out, pouring an extra one for you as you finished up sending people home. 

John sipped from his glass as he watched as you dragged a very drunk psychic from the bar. “It helps me see better!” the woman complained, trying to stay on her feet. 

“Then go buy a bottle at the liquor store, Shay,” you said, hauling her to the door. “I got shit to do!”

“You are going to have a hard life, (Y/N),” Shay said, pointing her finger at your face. Then, the psychic fell over, trying to reach the door. 

“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” you quipped as she stumbled out the door. With a final dismissal of the staff, the Outpost was finally quiet. After locking up, you joined the Winchesters, gratefully accepting the drink John handed you. “Alright, fill me in.”

“Wait,” Sam said before John could begin, “how do we know we can trust her?” Dean rolled his eyes and John narrowed his at his youngest. You, however, had expected this. 

“Something tells me you have questions, Sam Winchester,” you said, downing the bourbon. “Ask away.”

“How do you get your information about the supernaturals?” Sam asked. You reached for the bottle again and poured yourself another drink as you spoke. 

“I have my sources,” you explained. “Not all ‘monsters’ are bad, boys. There are wolves that eat cow hearts from the butcher and vamps that drink blood-bags instead of people. If you know which ones are the less horrible ones, you can make deals with them. Offer them protection from other hunters in exchange for information. I don’t deal in demons though,” you assured them. “However, I do know how to summon one if the situation is that dire. Which it rarely is in these parts. Psychics and witches are also easy to find and very easy to bribe once you get to know them.”

“So you run a black market for information?” Dean asked. 

“That’s one way to put it, sure,” you said with a shrug. “I find that monsters are more willing to speak to you than other hunters. I offer them a deal and they usually take it.”

“What deal?” asked Sam. 

“If they prove to me that they don’t kill people and offer good information, I keep them protected and keep their secret.” 

“And if they break the deal?” 

“Then I kill them,” you said simply. 

“Just like that?” asked Dean. 

“Just like that, Dean,” you said. “Satisfied?” Dean hesitated before nodding. You looked at Sam and he did the same. 

“She’s good, boys,” John said and you smiled at him, gripping his shoulder. 

“So,” you began, “tell me what you need.” John turned fully towards you and you could see that he was exhausted. You weren’t sure when the last time he slept was. Then again, you hadn’t seen the man for months. A hundred different things could have happened since then. 

“We’re looking for the colt,” John said and your brows shot up. 

“As in Samuel Colt?” you asked.

“You know it?” he asked. 

“I do, but nobody knows where it is.”

“We did,” Dean interjected. “Another hunter, Daniel Elkins, had it, but it was stolen.” 

“By vamps, (Y/N),” John said. 

“What would vampires want with a gun like that?” you asked, confused. Everyone that knew about the supernatural was aware of the gun. It was legendary, but most people thought it was just a fable, a myth to tell monsters so they would be scared. You never imagined that someone you knew would be after it.

“We don’t know,” John said, “but we need it.” You sighed, placing your drink down. 

“I can ask some of my contacts, but I can’t make any promises. And as soon as I do, people, monsters, spirits, you name it, they’re all gonna know the Winchesters are after it.”

“We’re out of options, (Y/N),” he said. 

“I’ll do my best,” you said. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why we need it?” Dean asked. 

“Not my business,” you said. “When you’re in the business in making deals and keeping secrets, you tend to learn to not ask questions. Excuse me,” you said as you got up and headed for your office upstairs. The three men watched after you. 

As soon as the door to your office shut, John turned to his sons. “Really? Did you have to interview her like a suspect?” He didn’t wait for them to answer as he got up and followed after you. 

“How well do you think they actually know each other?” Sam asked, watching after his father. 

“You don’t think…?” said Dean and then he cringed. “Not an image I needed, Sammy. Not at all.”

-------

Slipping into your office, John shut the door softly behind him. 

“Your boys are a lot like you,” you said from your desk as you texted away on your cell phone. John walked around the room as he looked at all the memorabilia you had from various hunts and adventures. Some he had even joined you on. When his eyes fell on the leather couch in the corner, he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. 

“Sam is like me,” John eventually said, “but Dean is more like his mother.” John turned and walked back to you as you set your phone down and walked around to lean against the desk. John met you there. You reached out and ran your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders. 

“You look tired,” you said softly, looking into his hazel eyes that stared back at you through thick lashes.

“So do you,” he pointed out. You shrugged. 

“It can be hard in my line of work. Never know when someone is going to need me up at three in the morning.” John nodded as his hands slid around your waist under your shirt, his large hands gripping you tighter. His thumbs rubbed along your skin. “I was hoping you’d visit soon,” you said quietly. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said, stepping closer between your legs. 

“I heard you mention the haunting we first worked,” you said as your hands crept up his neck and into his hair. 

“It was a tough one,” John said. “I should have done my research and of course, listened to the local bartender who told me the history of the place.”

“Yeah, probably would have helped,” you said with a grin. 

“You know,” John said, leaning forward to trail his lips along your jaw ever so slightly. “I never did thank you for saving me that night.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he nipped at your ear, your hands tightening in his hair.

“I remember you did,” you breathed out. 

“Oh?” John asked, innocently. Pulling back, he looked down at you with lustful eyes. “Would you mind reminding me?” With a hard tug, your lips met his and he grabbed your hips, placing you on the desk. 

John kissed you hard as he tried to make up for all the time lost between the two of you. You gripped him tightly, letting him take control. His hands moved from your waist to your hips and then your thighs as he took charge of your body. 

Sliding your hands from his hair to his waist, you ran them up his stomach beneath his shirt, feeling his hard chest beneath your fingers. John pressed in closer, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head back for better access. When he parted your lips, a small groan echoed from your throat which only made him more eager.

There was nothing better than kissing John Winchester. He was the only man to ever make you feel like this and the second he walked out of your bar, you craved him until he returned. 

Your nails raked down his back as he let go of your lips and moved to your jaw and then down to your throat. Leaning back on the desk, you let him mark you, feeling electricity flow through your veins. You gasped as he bit down just above your collarbone. Keeping one hand on your neck, he used the other to grip your thigh. Your leg came up and between his legs. John pressed his body against yours harder at the movement. 

You were flush against him, feeling his body fit perfectly against your own. He dragged his teeth along your throat, eliciting another moan from your mouth. “You’re gonna cause trouble if you keep doing that,” he whispered against your skin. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said as he lay you back on the desk, running his hands along your body as he leaned over you. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you warned as he grinned, wrapping your leg around his waist. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a smirk as he trailed a finger across your chest.

 “John,” you breathed out as he moved back to your lips, swallowing your whispers. 

Just as his hand began to move towards the waistband of your jeans, your phone rang. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as he paused. Detangling yourself from his body, you slid off the desk and grabbed your phone. John stood back, trying to control his breathing as he smoothed down his shirt. You fussed with your own clothes as you picked up the call. 

John didn’t listen as you spoke to whatever contact you had reached out to. Instead, he tried to come down from the high he had just experienced in that small moment with you. He had almost forgotten what it had felt like to have you in his arms, to feel you respond to his touch. His heart jumped in anticipation at the thought of having the opportunity again, he knew it was unlikely. They still had a job to do. 

“You’re in luck,” you said, grabbing his attention as you pocketed your phone. John turned to you. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand and smoothed your hair. “I have the location.”

-----

Once the two of you had made sure you didn’t look like horny teenagers, you rejoined Sam and Dean. 

“I got it,” John said, raising a piece of paper in his hand. Your vampire contact, a nomad who you had crossed paths with occasionally had heard about two humans who had been taken by a nest. A nest that was gloating about getting the jump on some guy named Elkins.

“Just like that?” Dean asked. 

“I told you,” John said, “she’s good.” Sam still looked skeptical, but Dean seemed to be alright with how things turned out. 

“Do you guys need anything else?” you asked, trying not to let the sadness on your face show. You knew he had to leave now and you weren’t sure when you would see him again.

“We’re good,” John said softly and you nodded, crossing your arms. 

“Well, don’t any of you be a stranger, okay?” you said. “And for god’s sake be careful so I don’t have to hunt you down cause you got turned.” 

“We’ll do our best,” John said with a longing look that Dean caught immediately. 

“We’ll meet you outside, Dad,” Dean said as he grabbed his brother’s jacket. “It was nice meeting you, (Y/N),” he said and you nodded back to the both of them. As soon as the door closed behind them, you grabbed John’s arm. 

“You’re going after it, aren’t you?” you asked. “The demon. That’s what the colt’s for.” John grimaced and you sighed. He had told you about the yellow-eyed demon the second time he had come to see you. To most people, a conversation like that would seem like bad pillow talk, but it was normal for the two of you. 

“You know I have to,” he said, reaching for you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face. 

“I know,” you said. “He’s not gonna know what hit him when John Winchester shows up with Samuel Colt’s gun on his hip,” you said as you pulled him closer, your hand resting on the place his gun normally sat. You pulled his lips to yours and you kissed him fiercely. He melted into the kiss and you felt as if this was finally goodbye. You didn’t know why, but something about the way you held each other spoke volumes. 

Pulling back, you looked right in his eyes and tried to memorize those beautiful hazel irises. “(Y/N), you are...it’s been you for so long,” he whispered and you fought back tears. You kissed him once more, letting your lips linger for just a few seconds before letting go again. 

“Go get the bastard,” you said. John smiled at you. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

#winchesterwords #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #john winchester #john winchester imagine #john winchester x reader #reader insert #apolloloki97 #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn imagines #JOhn winchester fic

[jayankles]

Not your Bacon

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Y/N makes a split second decision to save Dean on a hunt. When she wakes up in the hospital Dean professes his love for her but she fears that it’s coming from the wrong place.

Squares filled: Little box of memories / the bunker 

Written for: @goodthingshappenbingo / @spndeanbingo

Word Count:1507

@kittycat-cas​ said: Oooh, what I want to see is hurt and comfort, super comforting Dean who is in awe of why this woman would have risked her life so selflessly - just lots of fluff - maybe some angst too if she is really hurt.

Warnings: A little angst, hospitals

It was a split second decision. You couldn’t stand there and do nothing. The werewolf growled from the other side of the warehouse, your body moved on its own accord. Jumping in front of Dean was the only thing you could think of doing. Nothing else mattered if you were going to die instead of a Winchester then you were happy to take their place.

Screaming at the top of your lungs, you felt the excruciating pain tearing through your chest. Their claws shredding through your clothes before ripping through your skin. When you thought you would hit the floor your mind went blank, a fuzzy feeling grew in your chest but you welcomed the darkness that followed.

The wind was knocked out of your body, blood spilling from your mouth as well as your chest. This is it, this is how you die. And you would either die a hero, saving the great Dean Winchester or die out of pure recklessness and it was all for nothing. Either way pretty cool death, especially because you got to save a Winchester.

*

Dean paced the waiting room of the hospital. Everything was much too white. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, the uniform. Nothing smelt right either. 

Deciding against his better judgment, Dean went back to the reception and asked if there were any updates on your condition.

“Sorry hun, no changes since the last time you asked. But I can assure you that we have the best doctors and they are going to do their best to help her, okay? I can’t offer you any more assurance than that.”

Dean apologised for his continuous question. He was just the little kid that wanted to know if he had reached his destination. He just wanted to know whether you were safe or not and he wanted to know now. It was eating him alive not knowing what condition you were in.

Returning back to an unoccupied seat, his leg bounced in place, unable to keep his anxiety at bay. There was no hiding it. Hours had passed and there was still no news. It wasn’t until he was shaken awake that he realised he had fallen asleep in one of the chairs. Even if they were uncomfortable, he was exhausted and he couldn’t help but succumb to the dreaded sleep. Dean was told that you were in critical condition but they had managed to stop the bleeding and somehow keep you steady.

He was able to see you but the doctor had told him that you wouldn’t be awake. All he could do was sit and wait, wait and see if you would wake soon, but again sleep overtook him.

*

You grunted awake. Urgh, you would know that smell from anywhere - hospital - but suddenly it was drowned out by one of the smells that you loved the most. Pure and unadulterated Dean.

In a dizzy haze, you patted the bed beside him before you accidentally smacked Dean’s head a little too hard and woke him up. You grunted again, more on the sorrowful side this time as opposed to the hurting one.

“M’sorry.” You groaned, almost whined but it soon disappeared when the nurse came in and did her rounds. She noticed that you were awake, checked your folder and asked how much pain you were in on a scale of 1 to 10. “9, I’m saving my 10 for when I’m dead.”

“Y/N, come on, you know that’s not funny.” Dean argued, his voice stern, you couldn’t help it. You were in pain but you hadn’t lost your sense of humour. “Oh, wow that is some good shit. Wow.”

“Morphine tends to do that to people.” The nurse winked and added the dosage to the chart. “We’ll keep monitoring her but with time and care, those wounds should heal up. It’ll be a pretty cool story to tell in the future.”

“Yeah, I got attacked by a werewolf!” You giggled as your eyelids became heavy, you missed the way Dean’s widened in panic. 

Dean cleared his throat, before he feigned a laugh, trying to shrug it off in front of the nurse. “Damn, morphine makes people talk shit out of their ass, huh?

“Oh yeah. Werewolf isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve heard. We’ve had ghosts, vampires, and my favourite, a man made out of cotton candy but I watched the second Scooby Doo movie. I’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you nurse.”

“No problem. Just call out if you need me.”

Dean nodded, as soon as she left he almost smacked you on your leg but he fell back into the chair with a huff. He sighed when he saw your eyes closed. “You stupid woman. Why would you do that? Why would you jump in front of me? It’s my job to take care of the ones I love most and I couldn’t stand it if you were to die because of me. You know why? Because I am crazy in love with you. You can’t die, not for me, I won’t let you.”

With a bowed head, Dean missed the tear that fell from your eye. You softly sniffled and turned away. “I don’t want to be your bacon.”

“What?”

“It’s from ‘iCarly’ Freddie saves Carly then Carly kisses Freddie and Sam tells Freddie about the time that Sam thought she was in love with a guy because he bought her Canadian bacon. Anyway, the point is, I don’t want to be your bacon or your Freddie. They thought they were in love with someone because they did something nice or saved their live.How do I know this just is out of pity?”

Dean didn’t know what to say at first. He had no idea what you were talking about until you explained it. Dean grabbed your left hand in his and rubbed his other one over your head before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

*

“I’m so glad to be home.” Of course, you weren’t exactly at your home, you were at the bunker but it was close enough and the boys wanted you in close proximity just as you were healing, just until you got better.

You took short steps. Any big ones you took hurt like hell, maybe you needed to be a little less reckless as Dean as said. (Multiple times in the hospital and many times on the way home.) Sam and Cas had made their own rounds in the hospital, continuously checking up on you to see what progress you had made when it came to stitches and wounds.

Sam had immediately offered you a hot beverage, one that you gratefully accepted. One that you missed so much. You had to admit you were a tea snob, and the hospital’s tea didn’t really come up to par with your standards. Castiel followed suit, tugging on a string that exploded confetti. He was still dumbfounded by this contraption and the confused look on his face made you smile even more. The party popper was definitely an idea to behold. He then went on to offer you your favourite dessert and every other dessert under the sun. It seemed he had a good time with baking whilst his angel juice was down.

Much to your surprise, Dean left your side as soon as you were seated. Maybe you were his bacon or his Freddie after all. Just someone who saved his life and when you were starting to heal, that was it. You were disappointed to say the least but really you couldn’t have expected anything from Dean anyway. Maybe some shut eye would help you. Surely, that was all you needed, more sleep. Sleep was the answer to everything these days.

Dean came into your room a few moments later, except he wasn’t empty handed, he was carrying a shoe box and a sandwich on a plate. “I thought you could use some actual food and not and not just dessert as soon as you come back. You must be hungry.”

He set the plate down on your nightstand and sat next to you on your bed. You had your eyes on the box, you noticed that it had your name on it, after a while he opened the lid and set it aside. “Here are my most valued possessions, ones that include the two of us. There’s photos-”

“Movie tickets? Theatre tickets?” You interrupted when you took a peek in the box. “That’s so cool. What are those pieces of paper?”

Dean was reluctant, he never planned to show you this box let alone the things inside. “I never wanted to show you this way, there could have been better circumstances but you just think you’re my bacon or my Freddie but you’re my Y/N.”

Dean left the box with you, kissing the top of your head and leaving you to read or look through all the things that he collected throughout the years.

I guess you weren’t his bacon after all.

Forevers: @super100012 @lupine-princess @plaid-lover-bay25 @atc74 @growningupgeek @sophiebobzz @docharleythegeekqueen @poukothenerd @grace-for-sale @mrswhozeewhatsis @jesspfly @supernaturallymarvellous @sammysgirl1997 @roxyspearing @mogaruke @be-amaziing @deanandsamsbitch @frankiea1998 @hennessy0274-blog @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @iwantthedean @capsheadquaters @emoryhemsworth @notmoose45 @essie1876 @cassieraider @brewsthespirit-blog @its-my-perky-nipples @riversong-sam @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @jadalecki-jackles @spnbaby-67 @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @alyssa6marie @esoltis280 @bumber-car-s @alexwinchester23 @x-waywardaf-x @thisismysecrethappyplace @randomparanoid @kellianz

Dean: @kenmen02 @ain-t-bovvered @deans-baby-momma  @ericaprice2008 @shamelesslydean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wingedcatninja @mayasmedberg @kurosaki224-new-blog @valerieshubin @milo-winchester-4ever @sandlee44 @ruprecht0420 @akshi8278 @smoothdogsgirl @dslocum89 @plaidstiel-wormstache @ria132love @welldonebeca @iamabeautifulperson18 @starry-chaos @deans-treasure @larajadeschmidt13 @nyxveracity​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​

#goodthingshappenbingo #spngenrebingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean angst #dean x reader angst #dean fluff #dean x reader fluff #jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

[sabraeal]

Hypewired Unsolved Drinking Game, Rule #2: Shirayuki Despairs Over Obi’s Life Choices

Rule #1

Written for @ruleofexception on the occasion of her BIRTH. I thought this would be more ghost hunting and less metrics, but I should have known I couldn’t resist a premise-building chapter.

[Shirayuki] Have you ever heard of the Gardner Museum Heist?

[Obi] Oohhh.

[Shirayuki] *laughs* What was that?

[Obi] Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just... I love heists.

[Shirayuki] You love heists? *laughs* No, I take it back, that doesn’t surprise me at all.

[Obi] *laughs* Come on, who doesn’t love a good heist?

[Shirayuki] This one *is* known as the biggest art heist of its kind.

[Obi] Oh ho ho ho. You’re saying all the right things to me.

The thing about haunted houses-- the real kind, not the ones that hire teenagers to wear stage make up and hold fake chainsaws-- is that they’re hard to book.

“Oh, in my hometown, they hired ex-convicts,” Obi says in the same casual way he says anything vaguely terrifying about his childhood, “and they gave them real, working chainsaws.”

Her jaw drops, face still plastered to her phone’s screen. Soft jazz worms into her ear. “That can’t be true. That has to be a-- a rumor or something.”

“Nah, nah, the farm had a work program with the local prison. I think sometimes they did seasonal work too?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. But it definitely made the hayride more popular. Gave it a real element of danger, you know?”

Shirayuki stares. “And they gave them real chainsaws?”

“Well, they only revved them a little.” He twitches his shoulder, as much of a shrug as he ever gives. “One time a guy hopped on the cart and chopped the bale next to me, but I mean, I probably deserved that.”

She might be sitting down, but oh, she could really do to sit down again. Harder. Mentally. Emotionally. “And you’re sure these were ex-convicts?”

“Yeah, probably.” Not an endorsement ringing with confidence. “I mean, I’m sure they were in for non-violent crimes, at least.”

There are two wolves inside of her, and one of them is pleased to hear about a local business working to place disadvantaged community members, and the other-- well, the other thinks that maybe everyone should be a little more solid on the whole non-violent convictions than they are.

Before she has the chance to suggest it, the phone clicks, and a pleasant female voice says, “Hill House, Donna speaking, how may I help you?”

“Oh, hi, yes,” she fumbles, “I’m Shirayuki calling from Hypewire. We would like to talk about booking your location.”

“Hypewire?” Donna pauses, the good long kind that means she’s probably from a generation that prefers to read its news on paper, and not from a website that has an option to react with emojis. “Oh, did you want to do an article on the house?”

“Ah, something like that.” Obi arches a brow, lips twitching as he crams another Funyon between them. He’s far too distracting to have around while she needs to have thinky thoughts, especially if he’s going to make faces at her. “I’m the producer of Hyperwire Unsolved, and we were wondering if we could possibly do a, ah--” she coughs-- “an investigation? Of the house? For the show?”

“Oh, Hypewire Unsolved!” The woman laughs. “My nephew loves you guys. But don’t you do true crime?”

[Sender]: [email protected] [Recipients]: [email protected] [Subject]: Re: Episode Filming

Thank you for your interest in our venue for an episode. Some of our interns are big fans of your show! However, we have to admit some confusion, as we were under the impression you were a true crime show…

“How’d they get that impression?” Higata grunts, hunching further over his keyboard. His screen in the only light in the editing bay, castling a ghastly glow over his face. “The art department just sent me six different aliens to pick from for the Roswell episode, and now we’re Serial? Come on.”

Shirayuki sighs. “I know. But it seems our more popular episodes are the ones about collar bombers and serial murderers. At least by the metrics”

Higata might only be twenty-six, but he’d be right at home at the VA buffet with the way he grumbles. “You know His Highness over there was talking to me about making true crime and supernatural separate seasons. Something about...keeping views and organizational groups or something.”

“Huh.” She sits back, nibbling on her lip. “It would certainly give me more of a focus each season. What do you think?”

“I guess it’s fine. Two editing credits for my resume for one show’s work is a good deal.” He overlays a shadowy police sketch into the video, shoulders rounded and tense. “What do I know? I just sit in the dark and pick which ghostly visage I want to layer over your audio.”

She leans in with her sunniest smile, squeezing his arm right above the elbow. “And you’re so good at it!”

“I am.” He’s too much of a professional to look away from his work, shifting the same image three pixels over and then three pixels back, but his bicep relaxes beneath her grip. “I am a top tier spooky face picker. All the commenters say so.”

She blinks. “Oh? They do?”

Higata twists in his seat, gaze somehow even more incredulous in the lack of light. “No, Shirayuki, they don’t. But they should.” He gestures to the screen vaguely. “They mostly just talk about how much they want to fuck Obi.”

“OH.” There’s some information she really, really didn’t need. “That’s um, ah--”

“Your job, according to roughly half our fan base.” His mouth hooks into a grin she does not enjoy. “What do you say, Lyon? I think we could break the bank if you kissed him once on camera.”

“I-- I mean--” it’s a ridiculous request, clearly a joke, but her heart is pounding so loud in her ears she can’t hear her own thoughts-- “that’s not really w-what the show is about.”

Higata laughs. “That’s what you think.”

“What does who think?”

Shirayuki jumps straight out of her chair.

It’s not an exaggeration; there’s literal air between her butt and the seat, and when she lands again, the soft cushion makes the most obvious whoosh noise in existence, only worse, since it’s slow too. No obnoxious whoopee cushion womp, oh no, just an endless, air pump whoosssssshhhhhh that’s as blatant as a rattlesnake in the silence.

“Obi!” His lean shadow fills the doorway—wow, is he actually that tall?—and his head tilts, just enough so that his eyes shimmer gold. “I—nothing! We were, um, nothing?”

“We were talking about true crime,” Higata supplies, darting her a pitying look, “and how that’s what everyone thinks we are. Winchester House just emailed back.”

Obi grimaces, teeth flashing white in the dark. “Ah, great. Another one of those.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, deflating into a slouch. “I could talk about Big Foot until I’m blue in the face, but everyone thinks I have nuanced opinions about Jeffrey Dahmer.”

One narrow brow arches toward his hairline. “But you do have nuanced opinions about Jeffrey Dahmer.”

“I just think animal mutilation is probably a sign things aren’t going right in your life and someone should have noticed.” She waves her hands, at a loss. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to explore a supposedly haunted house.”

His lips twitch, right at one corner. “For a skeptic, you’re really into the idea you could see a ghost.”

“Stories are part of the human experience,” she explains primly. “We use them to understand what feels inexplicable. And ghosts are part of how we compartmentalize death.”

“Or they are the remnants of people who died too soon.” Obi pushes himself off the jamb, sauntering over to where they sit. “Or whatever bad juju is left by human misery—hey, that’s a sweet mugshot. Who’s it supposed to be?”

Higata squints. “I keep thinking it might be Shiira? But the cheeks are all wrong.”

“Huh.” Obi leans between the two of them, nose hovering mere inches away from the screen. His arm presses into her shoulder, too warm. “Brecker.”

“Brecker?” Higata tilts his head. “Oh yeah, I see it now. He’s not gonna like that.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Good thing he doesn’t watch joyless tripe like Unsolved then.”

“Yeah.” Higata snickers, raising the opacity. “Good thing.”

Obi settles back on his heels, hand gripping the back of her chair. She dares a glance up, and there he is, watching her with one of those looks she doesn’t know how to read. “Don’t worry, Lyon,” he says, thumb rubbing at the plastic back. “The season’s only just started. Give it some time.”

“I’d love to,” she mutters, tilting her head back, resting it on his wrist. “But try explaining that to Izana.”

[Obi] I’m just saying, there’s no sexier crime than a heist. ...Well, I mean, that doesn’t involve actual sex.

[Shirayuki] *wheeze*

[Obi] You know what I mean.

[Shirayuki] Do I? Am I finding out too much about you right now? Is this how you get seduced at parties? Girls just cornering you and telling you about high-profile robberies?

[Obi] *laughs* This is absolutely not how I get seduced at parties. Unless you’d like to try...?

[Shirayuki] . . .

[Obi] Besides, it’s not like this is just a regular robbery. Heists don’t happen to normal people. Just the rich ones.

[Shirayuki] Well, this *is* a museum. It’s for learning purposes.

[Obi] Oh, like all that stuff actually *belongs* to a museum anyway.

[Shirayuki] Actually...this time it does!

[Obi] Wow, now there’s a mystery I want to investigate.

“We want to capitalize on the energy from this season.”

Izana isn’t a man who lounges; his mesh office chair is relentlessly ergonomic, only a few aggressively rolled lumbar supports away from a torture device. But still, he gives off the energy of a cat lazing in a sunspot, already gotten into the cream.

“Unsolved has always had excellent metrics, but since the premier--” he glances pointedly at Obi-- “they’re unparalleled by any other digital media Wisteria has put out on any of its platforms.”

Obi sprawls in one of the wire-frame chairs Izana has out, far too big for its delicate frame, every inch of him as still as the grave. Except for his one, bouncing knee, practically vibrating as he asks, “That’s...good right?”

“Very good.” Shirayuki may not be a metrics person, but working with Zen gave her more than a passing acquaintance with what success sounds like. “I think he’s telling us...we’re his cash cow.”

Izana’s lips lift into a smirk. “Just so. You’re more popular than Stand the Heat, and that’s saying something.”

It is saying something-- Obi’s show consistently has the most hits and the highest likes-to-views ratio. It’s been the backbone of Hypewire’s digital media section since it premiered last year, and now-- now Unsolved has passed it. If the graph Izana’s laid out is right, they’ve passed it by...a lot.

Shirayuki sneaks a glance at Obi as he leans over, taking in the numbers. She can’t move, can’t even breathe as he stares, eyes rounding as he understands what’s happening.

He rips the paper off the desk, shaking it at her. “Do you see this?”

She blinks. “Y-yes?”

His mouth breaks into a grin, like a Labrador who has found a particularly giant stick. “We’re awesome.”

“Oh,” she breathes, and wow, this is really not the time to think about the-- the Abayan effect, even if that smile makes it extremely hard not to. “Okay.”

“We should have you on the show.” His knee bounces a mile a minute, words barely keeping pace. “See if that makes the ratings draw even.”

Shirayuki stares at him, but there’s no hint of sarcasm, no undertone of agitation. For all intents and purposes, it seems as if he’s just...inviting her on his highly rated cooking show.

That can’t be right.

“Not a bad thought, Abayan,” Izana hums, fingers tapping at the desk. “Turn that in to me with the rest of your proposals for next season.”

Obi grins. “No problem, boss.”

“Wait.” This is all happening too fast; it’s all too much. Three weeks ago she was scrambling for a new co-host, and now she’s sitting next to Hypewire’s media darling, talking about how she needs to be on his show for his ratings. “I don’t-- we shouldn’t--”

“Oh, can you not cook?” Obi smiles, and it’s-- entirely too much. “Don’t worry, Lyon, you’ll be on top when I’m done with you.”

“N-no!” she chokes. “I-- I’m the daughter of a bar! I mean, my grandparents--” ugh, four years to get a journalism degree, and she still can’t word good-- “they owned a pub.”

“Great.” His teeth flash, half-feral. “Then you’ll know how to follow my lead.”

“I think,” Izana says, tipping her a speculative look, “that Shirayuki is less worried about her prowess in the kitchen, and more about what these sort of numbers might mean to a show like Unsolved. Isn’t that right?”

“Ah, I mean...” It’s terrible how good he is at his job. “It’s all so...quick. We’re still editing this season, and already I’m working on the ideas for next one, and I have to not only write scripts but also scout locations, and Higata is already stretched thin--”

“We’ll get you another editor.”

Her jaw drops. “W-what?”

Izana folds his hands, so calm, and tells her, “We’ll get you another editor.”

Shirayuki stares, mouth utterly dry. It had been a struggle to get Higata last season; after Obi had roasted the idea during Pitch Fight, Hypewire’s higher-ups had been loath to put any actual support behind Unsolved. Only his dogged enthusiasm-- and flagrantly working on the project behind their backs-- had gotten him on board after the pilot took off. And now Izana Wisteria was just handing her someone else. Personally.

She reaches down and pinches herself. Yep, this is-- this is real life. Somehow.

“You want to-- you mean that--” she gulps-- “you want to give Unsolved a team?”

He nods, brusque and efficient. “I can get you another researcher as well. Or if the locations appear to be a problem, perhaps a personal assistant?” He lifts a hand, a Wisteria shrug. “Just let me know your needs, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Unless it’s time, right?” Obi asks wryly. “That’s straight out.”

Izana’s mouth stretches into the barest grin. “The internet is instant, I’m afraid. You have to strike while the iron’s hot. I hope--” he fixes her with a meaningful look-- “we are all able to make the best of this opportunity.”

kisskissfall4luv: does ne1 no f this guy is gonna b here 4 the hole sesson? i luv Zen but i lik the nu guy 2 hes so funny!

kayla0202: I hope he is! I never thought I’d like something as much as Stand the Heat, especially a show about aliens and weird crime, but Obi and Shirayuki make me tune in every week! How long are Unsolved’s seasons again??

unsolvedjunky42: There’s only one other season, and that was 12 eps, though a lot of those were 10 minutes long, and these ones are averaging 17-20min. It looks like Obi Abayan is credited as co-host for the rest of the season: [follow link] So glad he signed on, I thought Unsolved would be dead in the water without Zen but Obi brings a whole new dynamic I didn’t ever realize the show was missing.

zenluvr999: i no were only 3 eps in but i think im gonna need a new name lmao

“Ah, I understand, but we really are looking to--” Shirayuki clenches her stress artichoke, its plush petals ballooning out from between her fingers, and stifles a sigh. “Yeah, I see. Thank you.”

The call cuts off with a beep, too cheerful a sound for its finality. Another opportunity lost. Shirayuki spills over her keyboard, groan lost beneath the function keys.

“Going that well, huh?” Kihal barely spares her a glance, but she does pull aside a headphone; the way editors show they care. “Tell me again how much you love this job.”

“I do love it,” she insists, muffled by the cool metal of her desk. “It’s just...so much work.”

“You know, we could just get that personal assistant.” Higata drops his headphones around his neck, settling back in his chair. It creaks beneath him, protesting his slouch. “I still can’t believe you said no to that.”

“We don’t need another team member.” Shirayuki lifts her head, just barely, to give him a warning glance. “We already have Kihal. That’s more than enough.”

“Really? We still have half a season left to edit, you have another season to write, and you want to tell me we couldn’t use another set of hands?” His eyebrow twitches up toward his hairline. “You just love making all those phone calls, huh?”

“It’s not that.” She rolls back, lifting herself upright. Her spine reminds her sharply that it doesn’t like doing that, that it was having a fine time as she was, but if there’s one thing Shirayuki knows how to ignore by now, it’s a complainer. “Unsolved was my idea to begin with, and if we can’t do the proposal we submitted last week, it should be me who’s to blame for it, not some poor intern.”

“She’s so cute,” Kihal coos across the cluster. “She’s got morals and everything.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Higata deadpans. “Didn’t you unionize the Yuris office?”

Her teeth flash predator white between the crimson stain of her lips. “Why do you think I volunteered to work this gig?”

He sighs, long-suffering. “See, this is the problem: the both of you like working too much. It’s getting in the way of having someone fetch my coffee for me.”

Shirayuki levels her best glare at him, the one she’s honed from one too many long nights in the editing bay. “If we had a PA, their job would not be to get you coffee.”

“If we had a PA, their job would be to make these stupid phone calls so Shirayuki can get actual work done,” Kihal informs him with a playful superiority than makes his eyes roll. “Instead of spending all day in a fugue of sadness and misery because no one will take her seriously.”

Shirayuki almost protests—there’s no fugue, and if anything, the rejections just make her more desperate and determined, but—

Her list of high-profile options has been reduced by a half, red lines spiking through some of her best hits with no relief in sight. She is about two seconds from eating her feelings through the oversized cinnamon buns in the company vending machine, and a fugue state is starting to sound like a preferable way to spend her afternoon.

“Ugh,” she decides, and lays down again.

“There, there,” Kihal croons, patting her back across their desks. “Someone will have to give you the time of day at some point.”

“I’m getting calls back.” She rolls over onto one cheek, thoughtful. “People are fans of the show! They just...don’t think we’re serious.”

Kihal scoffs. “About what? Aliens? Ghosts? I’ve been fielding queries all morning from Shuuka asking which direction we want to go for The Alexandria episode.”

“It’s the whole ghost hunting angle.” Higata leans over, liberating her artichoke from her grip, tossing it between his hands. “If I want to be fair, which I don’t, but here we are—it’s a new direction for the show. I guess it could be confusing to people used to our format.”

“I know, I know.” She pillows her chin with her hands, letting out a sigh. “I just wish one of them would give us a confirmation instead of—“ she waves her hand at her empty schedule—“all this.”

“They will.” She doesn’t know where Higata unearths all this unearned confidence, but she’s glad one of them has. “Let this season run its course. Zen was never big on the supernatural episodes, but these ones with Obi...people are definitely going to pay attention.”

He wouldn’t be saying that if he had to suggest waiting to Izana Wisteria. “They’re already paying attention to Obi. I’m always getting asked if--”

“If I’m as handsome as I look on screen?”

The thing is-- she’s not expecting it. One minute she’s sprawled across her desk, and the next Obi’s purr is tickling her ear, and--

“Ow, fff--” his gaze darts over where he clenches his nose-- “fudge. Sicles.”

“Nice save,” Kihal deadpans. “Now if only you could do that in the first minute of every video.”

“What can I say,” he honks, rubbing his nose. “I’m an off-the-cuff kind of guy.”

“You’re a ‘ruining our monetization’ kind of guy,” she shoots back, though she pushes over an abandoned chair for him to sit on.

“Oh, Obi!” Shirayuki yelps, hands hovering on either side of his face as he sits. “I’m so sorry! I was just--”

“Surprised, yeah, got that part.” he lifts his fingers, wobbling the bridge of his nose. “No harm done.”

“Good thing,” Higata mutters, “that face gets views.”

“Oh please.” Obi grins, devastating as always. “Chicks love a broken nose.”

Kihal barks out a laugh. “When it comes to you, chicks love breathing.”

He shrugs, sliding into a slouch. “Still no luck, I’m guessing?”

“None,” Shirayuki confirms. “Though people have been saying they enjoy the new season.”

“The concierge at the Roosevelt says you’re a lot cuter than Zen,” Kihal offers, needlessly.

Obi’s grin widens, wolfish. “You don’t say.”

“Maybe you should start using that Abayan charm to get us some bookings,” Kihal suggests wryly. “Earn your keep around here.”

“Please, I earn my keep. I’m the eye candy.” He winks. “Besides, I’d be happy to, but the big boss over here always tells me--”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Shirayuki says, “it’s really my job--”

Higata waves a hand, long suffering. “You see the problem.”

“I do.” Kihal settles back. “Well, if you really just need a place...”

“I’ll take anything at this point,” she says to the particleboard of the ceiling. “Even if it’s just a haunted hole in the ground.”

“All right, well--” Kihal grins, sheepish-- “my condo is haunted.”

[Obi] So you’re telling me that this is just some crazy lady’s house, filled with all her stuff?

[Shirayuki] Isabella Stewart Gardner was a socialite and a philanthropist, *not* a crazy lady.

[Obi] Right, okay, but...she did turn her house into a museum, and then made everyone promise not to touch it. Not exactly what I think of when someone says ‘stable.’

[Shirayuki] Because she *curated* it, Obi!

[Obi] So what you’re telling me is that she knew that from forever to the end of time, she would have better taste than everyone else on the planet.

[Shirayuki] *sputtering* W-well--

[Obi] No, no, you’re right. I retract the crazy lady thing. Because that’s *baller*.

[Shirayuki] *laughs* O-obi!

[Obi] I want to be that lady. Like that is shade from the grave.

[Shirayuki] . . . . She also was personally friends with Monet.

[Obi] SEE? Life goals.

“So,” Obi hums from around a dumpling, his chopsticks already rooting for another, “what do you think?”

Shirayuki looks up, halfway through a very un-dainty bite of her own. “About--? Oh! I can’t believe they’re only fifty cents each! Where did you find this place?”

Despite his reputation on camera-- forward-facing, casual, intimate-- Obi isn’t someone who looks at people head-on. She’ll catch a glance sometimes, or maybe a considering look from the corner of his eyes, but for the most part, he’s always moving, eyes darting around to watch who filters into a room, or at the cars moving outside, or staring down the squirrel that likes to scratch at their window.

So when he looks at her, gold eyes trapping her as thoroughly as amber, she notices.

“Well,” he says after a long moment, “when you run a food show, people do give you some hot tips. But, ah--” he rubs at the back of his head, ears pink at the tips-- “that wasn’t really what I, ah, meant.”

Her mouth rounds. “Oh.”

His hands raise, chopsticks knitted under his knuckles. “Though I’m glad you like it! It’s, ah, one of my favorite places too. I just thought that you might have some, er--” he grimaces-- “thoughts, about the whole haunted condo thing.”

“Oh! That.” She taps her chopsticks on her plate, trying to gather her thoughts. “I just think...I don’t know. It’s not a bad place to start, but I just wanted...”

She blows out her cheeks on a sigh. “The ghost hunting is a new aspect of the show, and I wanted us to come out strong with an actual location...”

His mouth curls at a corner, too knowing. “And having us just carry around proton packs and talk about cold spots in a friend’s house isn’t really going to do much for our supernatural cred?”

“Yeah.” She slumps against the chair, defeat. “That. But I also feel like beggars can’t be choosers, and no one else is telling us yes, so...”

He nods, mouth pressed into a thoughtful line. “So there’s no rush to say no.”

“Right, yeah.” She glances at him from the corners of her eyes. “How about you?”

Obi blinks, eyes fluttering wide. “Me? This isn’t really my--” he hesitates, mouth working, starting a half dozen words-- “ah, I mean, I think...it’s smart. You’re right, a bigger place will give us more credit, but if one doesn’t come through then we have to start somewhere. Besides,” his mouth tics at a corner, twitching toward a smirk-- “I’ve always wondered whether she’s bikini or boyshorts.”

It’s only when her chin hits her chest that she realizes her jaw has dropped. “We’re not there to look in her underwear drawer!”

“Well, we’re not at work for her to look in my gym bag either,” he replies, sour, “but she did anyway.”

“She already said that was an accident--”

“--a likely story--”

“--That’s not what I meant anyway,” she admits with a huff. “I wanted to know if you were okay with the whole, ah...” her shoulders round, shy-- “metrics thing.”

“Metrics?” His head cocks, quizzical, but then-- “you mean, the stuff Izana showed us weeks ago?”

“Two weeks ago,” she corrects, heat flaring on her cheeks, “and, um, yes. I just...you’re not mad?”

Obi stares. “About what?”

“Unsolved.”

He shakes his head. “You’re...really going to have to be more specific than that.”

“The ratings.” She pokes at a dumpling, miserable. “Stand the Heat-- that’s your baby isn’t it? You pitched it and everything.”

“I...did?” he says, brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just-- Unsolved is doing better.” It’s not bragging, she knows that, but it feels like it. “And it’s-- it’s okay if you’re, um, upset about it. You’ve been doing this for--”

“OH.” Obi coughs, suddenly looking anywhere but at their table. “No, I really-- you don’t need to worry about that. At all. Please.”

She stares. “Obi, it’s okay. I’m not going to take it personally if you--”

“Kid, please,” he begs, holding up his hands. “It’s nothing. I mean, yeah, if Stand the Heat was on top, I’d be happy. I mean, I was happy when it was on top. But, this is...” his fingers twirl his chopstick mindlessly-- “this is good, too.”

“But--”

“Listen, I know you may find this hard to believe, especially with how we, uh, met, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a huge fan of the show. Not even a little. Understated it, in fact.” The tips of his ears flush. “So, uh, it’s kind of cool that I joined my favorite show, and now it’s super popular. That’s sort of the whole fanboy dream, right?”

“O-oh!” She stares down at her hands, willing them to stop trembling. “I, uh...I didn’t...I didn’t really think of it like that.”

“Yeah, well, now you know you don’t have to worry about it,” he says with a laugh. “I’m living the dream here. Not only am I on the show, but I’m more popular than the last guy. And I get to take the cute host out to lunch and call it business. The only square I need to finish fanboy bingo is getting to ki--”

His teeth snap down, so loud she hears the click. “Haah, never mind. Hey look, is that the waiter? Could we, ah, get the check?”

[Sender]: [email protected] [Recipients]: [email protected] [Subject]: Season 3 Hard Proposal

Is there any reason this isn’t in my inbox already?

Shirayuki closes her inbox with a grimace. “Ah, hey, Kihal?”

Her editor looks up, brows raised. “Yeah?”

She licks her lips, bracing herself. “Just...how haunted do you think your condo is?”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #buzzfeed unsolved AU #ghost hunting got pushed back for FREESTYLE FLIRTING #so i'm sure none of you will complain #but also I had lots of thinky thoughts about how i didn't want to push aside the show aspect to do just the romance #since the manga focuses hardcore on her career #listen guys the second chapter of fics is always the hardest because then you're thinking of TONE and OTHER STRUCTURE THINGS #esp since i wasn't sure if i would expand this beyond a one shot #so i had to decided if this was gonna be straight up rom com business #or whether i wanted to be shirayuki making this show work as it sort of grows beyond the two pony operation she had before #and also here is her hot co-host she keeps accidentally flirting with oh no #obviously i'm going the second route here #so ENJOY

[winchester-fantasies]

An Inconvenient Flame (Part Four)

Series Summary: You’ve known Sam and Dean Winchester all your life. You find you have developed an attraction for the eldest Winchester, but Dean has never indicated he felt anything more for you than a little sister. A late night encounter causes Dean to question his own feelings for you, but with your age gap, he’s hesitant to let anything grow beyond attraction. Things come to a head when a case forces you together. Will these embers of attraction lay buried or will this inconvenient flame of desire become an inferno?

Word Count: 2389

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension, light pining

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

     Two days later and the Buchanan case was over. It had turned out to indeed be little Emma Buchanan, her spirit still there due to the abuse and neglect she had been forced to endure. You and Dean had found her bones buried in the local cemetery, but it broke your heart when you realized Emma had been buried on the other side of the graveyard, far away from her family. Even in death they didn't want her.

     You and Dean trudged back into the cool motel room, exhausted from having dug all night into the early morning hours. You were covered in dirt and sweat and the only thing you longed for was a nice, hot shower. You quickly jumped inside the shower, not waiting to see if Dean wanted to go first. You weren't about to let him use up all the hot water. You stood and relished the warm water over your hair, face, and body despite the shitty water pressure.

     After you got out, you dressed in shorts and a tank top and thew your hair up into a towel to dry. You opened the door and found Dean lying on the bed still fully clothed, muddy boots hanging off the end of the bed.

     "Your turn," you said, playfully kicking his foot as you walked past him and fell on the mattress beside him. He looked over at you and shot you a half smile.

     "Today was a good hunt," he said, giving you a fist bump. "We make a good team," he continued before groaning and climbing out of bed. You watched him walk to the bathroom and close the door before you looked back to where he had been laying. You groaned when you realized he had left dirt all over the sheets. You quickly got up and took them off the bed, shaking them out vigorously, as you heard Dean turn on the water.

     Once you were satisfied that most of the dirt was gone, you dumped them back on the bed, not caring if it was made or not. You would unmake the bed soon enough anyway. You were exhausted and were ready to fall into bed despite it being only 6:00 in the evening. You knew Dean would feel the same way.

     You took your hair down from the towel that was still on your head and dumped the wet cloth by the bathroom door. You got your brush out of your bag and began to move it through your tangles just as you heard the water turn off and the shower curtain pull back. A few moments later, Dean emerged from the bathroom, only a towel wrapped around his waist.

     You felt your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. His chest was bare and well-defined. His shoulders were broad as leftover droplets of water clung to his skin. Your eyes trailed down to his stomach which was just as equally distinct and muscular but where scars dotted the skin here and there, all telling a different story.

     You swallowed hard as you felt yourself heat up and an all too familiar ache in your chest made its way down to your lady garden. You quickly crossed your legs, willing the feeling to subside, but it only made it worse as you felt wetness pooling underneath your shorts.

     "Forgot my clothes," Dean smirked before making his way back into the bathroom and shutting the door, clothes in hand.

     You let out a heavy breath and uncrossed your legs. God, what this man did to you! If he had any idea how he made your body respond to his mere presence, you were sure he'd be mortified.

     You heard Dean's phone ringing from his duffle bag and was about to answer it when he came out, now fully dressed. "Hey, Bobby," he answered, sitting down on the side of the bed. They talked for a few minutes, and you were certain they were talking about the demon case.

     "Yeah, we will. Thanks, Bobby. If we need anything we'll call," Dean said, hanging up the phone and turning towards you.

     "What's up?" you asked, curious as to what all their conversation entailed, your sexual appetite at bay. At least for now.

     "It was actually about his friend, Windsor Drakefield," Dean answered.

     You found yourself chuckling. "Windsor Drakefield?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

     Dean shrugged. "What? The guy's rich," he answered. "Anyway," he continued, "Bobby said that Windsor is going to have this party over at his place. He's inviting a bunch of his rich friends and acquaintances and...he's invited Lowell." He paused, gauging your reaction.

     Your eyes widened. "Wow, okay. So what does that mean for us?" you questioned.

     "It means," Dean said, getting up off the bed and rummaging through his duffle. He pulled out his FBI suit and held it up. "We're gonna have to get all gussied up," he finished, sending you a smirk.

     You sent him a sour look in return. He knew you hated dressing up, preferring to just wear your jeans and t-shirts. Dean held up his hands. "Hey, it's only for one night!" he said in amusement.

     You sighed heavily. "Yeah, I guess you're right." You, too, rose from the bed and went over to your own bag. "Which is why it's a good thing," you continued, opening up your bag, "that I brought this!" you finished, pulling out a cocktail dress.

     "You actually brought a dress?" Dean asked in surprise.

     You chuckled. "Yeah, of course! FBI isn't the only cover I've used," you said, sending him a playfully coy smile.

**********

     You looked at yourself in the mirror as you finished your makeup. You had opted for a smoky-eye which set off your (Y/E/C) eyes and matched your black, sequined cocktail dress. After you finished your makeup, you started on your hair. You had given yourself beachy waves. At first you thought about leaving it down, but then after second thought, decided to go for a low side bun at the nape of your neck. You pulled a few waves out of the bun to give it more of a messy effect before spraying it with a few pumps of hairspray.

     You gave yourself a once over before walking out of the bathroom. All you needed now were your heels. You went straight to your bag and began rummaging through it trying to find them. You suddenly noticed the room was unusually quiet and turned towards the chair by the door to find Dean seated, staring at you with wide eyes.

     You found yourself laughing at his deer-in-the-headlights expression. "What?" you asked, finally composing yourself.

     Dean shrugged casually. "I don't know. You just look...different," he said, getting up from the chair.

     You cocked an eyebrow. "Good different or bad different?"

     "Good different," he replied, giving you a sheepish look before glancing to the ground.

     You chuckled. "You look good different, too," you said, smiling as his gaze met yours. You sat at the edge of the bed and strapped on your heels. When you went to stand back up, Dean was at your side and holding out his hand to help you up. You felt herself inwardly frown in confusion. An odd move for Dean, but you shook it off, your mind more consumed with the case this evening than it had been in the last few days. You thought it was probably due to the fact you wanted so desperately to get some answers and maybe some closure for Dean.

     You both got into the Impala and started driving to Windsor Drakefield's party. The drive was pleasant. The air was cool against your skin as you put your hand through the Impala's open window and allowed the wind to dance with your hand as the breeze laced in and out of your spread fingers. The weather was beautiful with a hint of fall in the atmosphere, and you enjoyed watching the countryside as Dean drove. You leaned your head against the door jam and sighed contentedly as you watched the sun starting to set, casting the sky in a light golden hue. The road was spread infinitely before you, and you felt like you could stay there forever, out on the road with the man you found yourself falling in love with.

     All too soon, Dean turned onto a private road and followed it a ways before finally coming to a discreet driveway. He stopped the Impala away from the house and both of you alighted. You glanced around, taking in the spacious property. It was beautiful! The grounds were lush with green grass. Oak trees lined both sides of the driveway all the way to the front of the mansion and as you came closer, you could make out a variety of flowers and plants. The mansion was equally just as breathtaking. There were multiple windows, and you could see the sunset in their reflection.

     You stopped just as you reached the stairs leading to the portico and found yourself swallowing the lump in your throat. Dean kept going but stopped when he realized you had paused, his foot coming to rest on the first step. He glanced back at you with a concerned expression. "You okay?" he asked.

     You nodded your head uncertainly. Dean sent you a reassuring smile as he held out his hand. You took it as you made your way up the flight of stairs to the large front door. Your body warmed as you felt yourself relax at his touch. You stopped at the door when Dean looked down at you. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked again.

     "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous, I guess. It's been awhile since I've had to go undercover like this. I'm a little rusty," you replied, a nervous chuckle on your lips as you glanced down in embarrassment.

     You felt him squeeze your hand, trying to bolster your confidence. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take the lead," Dean said, turning back to the door and raising his hand to knock.

     Your head shot up at his words. Did he just call you baby? You didn't have time to question him, when the door suddenly swung open and a man in his sixties stood in the doorway.

     "Come in, come in!" he exclaimed, a slight English accent lacing his words. He ushered you in. "You must be Dean Winchester and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

     "That's right, sir," Dean said, extending his hand.

     "Fenston Barclay Windsor Drakefield III, but you can call me Windsor," he said, shaking Dean's hand in return and shooting you a bright smile and a playful wink. You found yourself smiling back. The man was certainly jovial!

     "Come right this way," Windsor said, motioning to the library on his right. Once inside, he offered you and Dean a seat before seating himself behind his large mahogany desk.

     "So, Bobby tells me that you both are interested in Lowell," he started out, his jovial attitude now gone, replaced by a seriousness that you felt could quickly turn to rage if provoked.

     Dean cleared his throat and licked his lower lip as he shifted in his seat. "Yeah, we are. There was an...incident..." Dean began, but Windsor silenced him with a raise of his hand.

     "It's alright. You don't have to explain. Bobby filled me in on everything," Drakefield reassured.

     You glanced over at Dean and saw his jaw clench when he nodded his thanks. You could tell he was already having a rough time just talking about it. You were expecting the worst when you finally got Lowell alone.

     You turned your attention back to Windsor as he began speaking again. "Lowell hasn't arrived yet, which creates the perfect opportunity for both of you to get into position for whatever you're wishing to do." You and Dean nodded in unison.

     "And I'm assuming you don't wish to use your given names?" Windsor questioned, looking between you.

     You and Dean shot one another a glance before you turned back to Windsor who was staring, the question still hanging in the air. You nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that would be wise.... It's just that I'm always so used to being an undercover FBI agent, that I haven't had much time to come up with a persona other than that," you replied with a sheepish chuckle. You could see Dean nod in agreement out of the corner of your eye.

     Windsor smiled understandingly. "Yes, well, how about you being Daniel and Jessica Fleming, a newlywed couple who have just returned from your honeymoon abroad? Daniel is here at his wife's father's invitation hoping to form connections to secure a well-established career in the aerospace industry."

     You found yourself gaping, eyebrows raised, as you and Dean stared at the older man in shock. You finally found your voice, "How did you just come up with that ruse so quickly and easily?"

     Windsor chuckled in amusement. "Years of hunting experience, I suppose," he answered smoothly, his accent coming through once more.     

     You chuckled in return. "Well, it's a very good one. I think it'll work fine for what we're wanting to do," you said, looking to Dean who nodded his agreement.

     "Swell!" Windsor exclaimed, clapping his hands once. You and Dean stood up as the older man rose from his own chair. "Shall we?" he asked, motioning to the door. You smiled and followed Dean to the entrance. 

     Once back outside in the spacious vestibule, Dean stopped and turned to Windsor. "Thank you for everything, sir," Dean said, nodding his head in thanks and extending his hand once more to Drakefield.

     The older man bowed slightly as he took Dean's hand. "Again, call me Windsor. And you're very welcome. If you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to find me. I'll be mingling amongst my other guests but won't be too far off."

     Dean nodded again and started walking toward the ballroom, you following close behind. "And Dean," Windsor called, causing both you and Dean to stop and turn back towards the man. "I sincerely hope you find those punk-ass demons," he said, his words clashing with his smooth English cadence. Dean smiled in return as you continued toward the dance hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything Tags:

@divadinag​ @mogaruke​ @calaofnoldor​ @defenderrosetyler​ @coffeebooksandfandom​

An Inconvenient Flame Tags:

@tranquility-or-chaos​

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn reader insert

[sakuwriteshere]

The Apple pie in my Life - Prologue

Summary: What happened between two best friends when someone messes with their lives? Can the past changes the future or can the future changes the past?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Female!Reader, Amanda Heckerling, Alex (OC)

Words count: 2243

Warnings: Angst (slight, I think?), a bit of fluff, heartbreak, betrayal

Square filled: Enemies to Lovers for @spndeanbingo​ and Angst to fluff for @spngenrebingo​ Those squares are used for the whole series.

A/N: I know. I know. I’m not very regular and it wasn’t the lack of ideas but truly the lack of time to write to be honest. Work has been such a *** But I’m back again and with another series! I have soooo much fun writing it! The first chapter is setting the story but the true plot will come within the next chapters.

As per usual, this is unbetated and I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes or error spelling. Please let me know what you think of it! I really hope that this new series will bring you as much fun as it does for me.

I do not own the characters or the show.

Prologue: Truman High, 1997

Another state, another highschool, another friends, another identity. Your life was an eternal restarting. You were used to it by now. Your parents being hunters, you followed them everywhere. You weren’t hunting, your parents thinking you were too young to do that, and you still had a lot to learn before being able to help them in a hunt. You knew how to protect yourself of course, and you helped them with the lore, while you tried to live your life as normal as possible.

You gasped and jumped from surprise when the face of your friend, Amanda Heckerling, appeared next to you as you closed the door of your locker.

“Jesus, Amanda! You scared me!” 

The blond girl giggled, biting her bottom lip. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and followed her as both of you headed for your next class. You listened to her latest rumor. It seemed like a new student has arrived, and according to your pretty friend, he was more than good looking.

“I’m not talking about Brad Pitt good looking, Y/N.” Amanda kept on explaining as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders.

“I’m telling you, he’s like a Greek God.” She sighed dreamily, as her head rested against your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes playfully. She had a soft heart, falling easily for anyone. At least, with this new guy you wouldn’t be the “new kid” anymore.

“And since when are you interested in mythology?” You chuckled.

Amanda gave you a stern look. “That’s not the point. You’ll see what I mean. He’s in our next class.” She said as she pushed you forward, forcing you to walk faster. It was the first time you saw her so eager.

Unfortunately for Amanda, the new student wasn’t here. You both sat at your place and waited for the class to start.

After a few minutes, a knock interrupted your teacher and all eyes turned toward the door. Your heart skipped a beat once you recognized the young boy entering. No wonder, Amanda and almost all of the girls were talking about the new student. You didn’t know he was here and you started to understand why your parents told you that the case they were working could take longer than usual. If he was here, it meant that his father was here as well and certainly, helping your parents with their current hunt.

“Glad to see that you finally joined us, Mister Winchester.” Your teacher said coldly, not pleased that the new student interrupted his class.

The young boy shrugged, a smirk on his face. “I had some free time.”

You tried not to laugh at his bad joke. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him and you forgot how he tried to play the bad boy.

The teacher sighed angrily, ordering him to take a seat and remain quiet for the rest of the class.

As he walked toward the empty seat, which was just behind yours, you didn’t look at each others. It was always the silent rule whenever you ended up in the same place; you have to be strangers to each other. It would be weird if the last new students knew each other and it could draw attention.

The rest of the class felt very long. You could wait for it to end. You wanted to know why Dean was here and more particularly, how long he would be here. You missed your best friend.

By the end of the day, you waved at Amanda as she left with her other friends in the bus. You grabbed your school bag and started to walk on the street. Living in a motel wasn’t the best and noone in school knew about it. It would be too much work to explain why you were living on your own in a motel.

As soon as you entered into your room, you knew something wasn’t right. The odd feeling of being watched hadn’t left you since you’ve left school, and this feeling grew stronger once you were in your room. Silently, you walked towards your bed, thinking about grabbing the knife you had under your pillow. When your fingertips touched the cold metal, you felt a presence behind you and turned around in a swift motion, firmly holding the weapon between your body and the intruder.

“Wow easy, Tiger!” Dean said, his hands raised in surrender.

“Dean!” You sighed, lowering your hand as soon as you realized who he was. “Don’t do that! I could have killed you!”

“Don’t be a drama queen.” He chuckled as he hugged you.

“I could!” Your voice muffled against his chest, then your arms wrapped around his waist.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said playfully, his chin resting on the top of your head.

The both of you stayed silent for a short moment, enjoying the moment. You really missed him.

“Where’s Sammy?” You finally asked, breaking the embrace.

“Next door. We’re your new neighbors!” Dean grinned as he sat on your bed.

“How long?”

Dean shrugged. “Dad left, saying it would be for a week.”

Your smile fell slightly at the news. The Winchester brothers were your best friends, your only friends to be exact. It wasn’t easy to keep track of your friends when your life was full of lies and when you have to move from one place to another. However, the brothers were just like you, living the hunters life, and knowing how hard it was.

“Hey, no, no, no. Don’t do that.” Dean said as he stood up and came closer.

“Do what?”

“The sad face. It doesn’t suit you.” He said in a soft voice, his hand cupping your face and his thumb caressing your cheek. “Let’s enjoy this, as long as it lasts, okay?”

He was staring at you intently and you nodded slightly, staring back at him.

****

“Y/N!” You and Amanda turned around when you heard your name being called.

You saw Alex running towards you, a book pressed against his chest. The boy stopped once he reached you and bend over, breathing heavily.

“You alright?” You asked after an awkward silent moment.

“Ye-yeah, sorry. I, uh, I wanted to give you this.” Alex stuttered, pushing the book against your chest, the motion a bit painful. “You said you wanted to read it.” He explained when he saw you frowning.

“Uh, yeah but you didn’t have to do this.” You said, looking at the cover. You vaguely remember telling him you loved reading and that you were interested in the last release of your favorite author. “Thank you.”

Alex’s smile fell as soon as Dean appeared behind you. His arms wrapping around you and Amanda’s waist. “Hello, ladies. What’s up?”

You glanced at Dean, happy to see him and started to explain what happened when Alex left without a word, the moment becoming more awkward with each passing seconds.

“Y/N as a stalker.” Amanda giggled.

“Who?” Dean asked, unconsciously tightening his hold around you.

“A~lex!” She hummed playfully.

“That’s not true!” You defended, feeling the heat on your cheeks.

Amanda ignored you and kept on talking. “Rumors say that he’s going to ask you out for the prom.”

You winced at the thought. Alew was a nice guy, and kind of handsome with his piercing blue eyes and deep black short hair, but you felt an uneasiness when he was near you.

“Speaking of it! When are you going to ask me, Dean?” Amanda asked, her hand rubbing his chest.

Dean gave her a cheeky grin. “Sorry sweetheart, I won’t ask you because I won’t be there anymore.”

You stopped walking and stared at him. He explained that his father called and told him that his brother and him would leave by the end of the week. You could see the relief in his eyes at the news. Dean really didn’t like the school life. You, on the other, were losing your best friend. Once again. You knew you were staying until the end of school year. Your parents called the night before, telling you that the case was over but they needed to take care of a new one not too far from here. It was better for you to finish this year at Truman High instead of moving again for only a few months.

How long would it be before you could see the Winchesters again?

***

You were standing in the boys’ room, waiting with them for John to pick them. The mood in the room was gloomy, despite the fact you tried to hide your sadness.

“Dad’s here!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing his duffel bag and giving you a tight hug. You missed him already. He left you and Dean alone after he promised you to call you, at least once a week.

You stood in front of Dean, your head low, fighting the tears. You hated those moments.

“Well,” Dean licked his lips nervously. He didn’t know what to say. “Take care, alright?”

You nodded once, still looking at the used carpet on the floor. He couldn’t bear seeing you like this so, without thinking, he engulfed your tiny frame in his arms.

“And do me a favor, if Alex asks you out, don’t say yes. You deserve better.” He said after a moment. You wanted to reply but the honking of the car outside stopped you.

“I won’t go.” You whispered, your fists clenching as you tried your hardest to keep your tears at bay.

“Why not? I know you want to.” Dean asked, a bit surprised by your answer. He remember Amanda telling him that you talked about going.

You shook your head, still refusing to look at him. “It’s a normal thing, Dean.” You explained, then lifted your head to look at him “We don’t do normal.”

Seeing the tears and the defeated look on your face, broke his heart. He knew you didn’t have a normal life, he already erased the thought for him or his brother, but he wanted nothing more for you to be happy. You wanted a normal apple pie life, you told him a few years ago.

“Sweetheart,” He whispered, his voice stuck in his throat. Seeing you like this was killing him.

“I’ll go with you.” He said without thinking, the words surprising him as much as you.

“Wha-what?” You asked, dumbfounded. “No Dean, you don’t have to-”

“I know. I want to.” He said as he cupped your face with both hands. “I would do anything for you.”

You grabbed one of his wrists and gasped when you felt his lips against your forehead. The tears falling freely on your cheeks.

Another series of honking and Dean knew his father’s patience was at its limits. He really had to go even though he wanted to stay with you. He broke the embrace and tried to smile as best as he could.

“Choose your best dress and wait for me, alright?” He said as he left the room. “I’ll be there, Y/N. I promise.”

You only nodded, not believing in your voice. Dean was the best. He would do anything to make you happy. Despite his departure, you were smiling. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you saw your best friend again.

***

The prom night was finally here. Once class was over, you rushed into your motel room to get ready. Dean would be here within a few hours, according to the last call you had.After a quick shower, you took out the beautiful long dress from the closet. It was a sleeveless red dress, Dean loved red, that stopped just above your knees but was longer on the back, until it reached the floor. The bustier was covered in laces and sequins. When you saw the dress you knew it was the one. You couldn’t wait to see Dean’s reaction when he would see it.

Only thirty minutes left before Dean would be here. You thought for a long moment about what you were going to do with your hair, and after a moment you opted for a stylish bun, with a few strands curling around your face. Finally, you kept the make-up neutral, with a slight touch of mascara and a deep red lipstick. With one over look in the mirror you nodded, satisfied with the general look. Your heart beating hard in your chest. As far as you could remember this was the more normal thing you’ve ever done. It felt good. Really good. You couldn’t thank Dean enough for giving you this bit of normalcy. 

He was already five minutes late. The boy loved drawing attention.

One hour late. Maybe he forgot it was tonight? No, of course he didn’t, he called you yesterday telling you he was on his way. You still remember hearing his smile over the phone when he told you that John accepted to give him Baby for the night.

Five hours late. You thought bitterly as you sat on the stairs in front of your room. You felt pathetic for still thinking he would come. You would wait all night if you had to. At this time, you just wished he would come. You don’t care that the party was almost over, you just wanted for Dean to come.

As you hid you face in your hands and cried silently, the realization hit you hard as you felt your heart breaking.

Dean Winchester would never come.

#spndeanbingo #spngenrebingo #dean winchester x reader #series #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #Female reader #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #dean winchesterxyou

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

The Hunter Who Love Me (Part 3)

Series Page

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Dean x OFC

Series Summary: Part Three of Some Sunny Day. Dean’s trying to balance his new relationship with Julie and his need to hunt. How long can he keep it from her? And can Julie keep her curiosity at bay?

Section Word Count: 4400

Section Content: language, fluff, angst, ghost talk

“Well?” Dean broke the silence over the phone after his request to Sam.

“Wow. Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” Dean frowned at the road on his drive to Brigida’s for Sunday lunch. He’d worked three days straight. Missed catching Julie before she left for her mom’s that morning, since he’d rolled into his driveway at 5:00 am. Hadn’t seen her since she headed to work Thursday. Noon, sharp! That had been the reminder in her text message. It was 11:30. He’d gotten his five hours of requisite sleep and hit the shower with only a cup of coffee in his system. “If it’s going to be a hassle for you and Eileen…”

“No, are you kidding? Course not. I’m just… surprised. How did Julie convince you?”

Dean huffed. “I decided on my own to take you up on your hundreds of offers to come and visit.”

Sam chuckled. “The plane thing is your idea, too?”

“Yeah. The less we talk about that part the better.”

“Got it. Eileen is doing the whole nesting thing so she’ll love having you both here.”

“She doing okay?”

“Yeah. Things checked out fine at the last doctor’s visit. The 3D ultrasound is wild.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah. I’ve watched it a few times. And, you guys are going the whole ‘surprise’ when it pops out?”

“Absolutely.” Dean could hear the fucking happiness in his brother’s voice. It was becoming a familiar sound out of his brother over the past two years. He really enjoyed listening to it. “How’s the therapy going?”

Dean nodded to himself. “Good.”

“Leave it to you to go with the retired rogue therapist.”

“I like her. And, bonus, she doesn’t charge.”

“That’s because she hasn’t renewed her license, Dean.”

“Yeah, since she turned 70.” He could almost hear Sam’s forehead crease up in surprise. “Think I didn’t do my research, Mr. Know It All? I asked her about it and then I triple-checked the facts she gave me. She wasn’t too happy with some disciplinary action taken against a therapist friend by the Colorado State Board. Made a pretty big stink about it and got frustrated with the crew in charge. If she moves to a new state, she says she might bother to renew it. If she doesn’t die before then.” Dean snickered at Tricia’s matter of fact attitude. It reminded him a little of Bobby.

I’ve heard she’s a bit on the unorthodox side.”

“Yeah. Well, I’d say that’s true of pretty much all hunters. Especially if they make it into retirement.”

“How’s retirement going for you?” Sam chuckled.

“I told you about the ghoul the other week. Is it just me or does it feel like things are spiking up?”

“I think it’s just you. Nothing major over the hunter airwaves. You know… never mind.”

Dean sighed. “What?”

“I was going to say, you can twist the facts to have things reflect whatever you want to. News outlets, political parties do it all the time. If you think something bad is brewing, you could be searching the stuff out more than you were before Julie came into the picture. Self-fulfilling prophecy, Dean.” Dean stewed in his thoughts in silence. Sam piped up again. “Are we really going to have to tiptoe around the hunting stuff when she’s here? Eileen and I are fine trying, but there’s always a chance…”

“I know.” Dean debated whether to vocalize his plan out loud before he shared. “I was thinking I might try and tell her while we're in California.”

“That’s a terrible idea!” Sam blurted out.

“Why?” Dean shot back.

“You’re going to bring Julie all the way across the country, away from home, surrounded by strangers... and break the news to her about the actual existence of the supernatural and our entire history? And, you think that’s going to go well?”

Dean pushed down on the gas pedal a little harder. “What I was thinking was that I might need the support of my brother to explain this unexplainable situation. So I don’t appear like an isolated nutjob ready to be committed.” Breath fumed out of his nose like a raging bull. He tried to count to ten in his head. But, only managed to get to four. “Our usual spiel, the whole we hunt monsters, save the world thing… this is too important for me to screw up, Sammy.”

A long pause. “Oh.”

“Forget it.” Dean mumbled.

“No, no.” Sam rushed out the response. “Maybe, let’s, see how it goes?” He offered.

“I gotta go.” Dean reached out to tap the End Call button.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was definitely proceeding with caution.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got your back.”

Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll message you the details when I’ve got them.”

*

Dean parked Baby all the way up the corner of the city street. Brigida’s block was always fender to bumper with cars. The weather was pleasant for the walk. The occasional whip of a crisp breeze in the warm sunshine made Dean button up his flannel overshirt.

The neighborhood had seen better days, according to Brigida’s stories. Dean got glimpses of what the past might have been like. He noted the few older neighbors sitting on porches on a Sunday. Classic rock drifted out of an open upstairs window. The bass of a compact car zipping up the street pounded Reggaeton into Dean’s ears for much longer than he preferred. 

Autumnal wreaths hung on a couple front doors. Signs of Halloween fans, or homes with children, could be identified with pumpkins on ledges. Cheap decorations purchased at a dollar store draped from some porch rafters. One man with a bushy mustache, in his seventies at least, wore a threadbare v-neck t-shirt and baggy pajamas as he swept his steps. He gave Dean an approving nod.

The smell of tomato sauce about five houses away from Brigida’s house had Dean pick up his pace. He bounded up the steps and gave a quick knock on the storm door. Movement in the tiny row home was in view through the screen. A shadow he identified as Julie was setting the dining room table. 

He’d done this enough Sundays to know he didn’t have to wait for the okay to enter and pulled hard on the sticky door. “When are you going to learn to lock this?” He scolded Julie with a grin, securing the latch behind him. It had only been a few days since he laid eyes and hands on her, but he couldn’t hide the elation.

Julie smiled and shook her head as he approached. “You know I’m not the one with the bad habit. She keeps going outside, looking for your car. I keep telling her we’ll hear you a mile away.” She dropped the last of the matching silverware at Dean’s spot, facing the door. Nobody’s going to sneak up on these ladies on my watch. Her hand hugged the flannel on his shoulder when he dipped down for a peck on her lips. He wore the blue and grey one she seemed to like. “Hey, Handsome.” She beamed.

“Hey, Beautiful.” He swooped back in for another taste of her lips. “Where is the little lady?” He whispered and handed her a paper bag. “I stopped at that bakery she likes.”

“You know you don’t need to earn anymore brownie points.” She smirked and nodded to the small kitchen. “Out back in the garden doing something.” She headed into the kitchen and he followed.

“Well, you need a certain kind of bread to sop up sauce correctly.”

Julie giggled and grabbed the bread bowl from atop the fridge. “How were you not a chubby kid?”

He shrugged and leaned into her personal space, easy to do in the confinement between the table, counter, and oven. The fresh scent of her hair, still a little damp and in a ponytail, mingled with the delicious smells. Pasta boiled on the stove, raising the temperature. His lips pressed into her forehead. “I talked to Sam this morning.”

“Good.” She sighed. “I wanted to tell you before…” She whispered.

“Dean-ah!” Brigida called out and flung open the back screen door. She wore the usual house dress that protected her clothes from the constant cooking and cleaning.

Julie rolled her eyes so only he could see. He grinned and scooted past to give Brigida a hug. “How are you?”

“Eh! Leg’s bothering me again. Giulia told me about the trip!” She shoved some herbs in Julie’s direction.

He heard Julie sawing away at the crusty bread on the tiny counter. “Oh. Yeah.” He smiled.

“I called my son up. They can’t wait to meet you.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. He tilted his head back to Julie.

The irritation on her face was clear. “I was explaining to Ma that we didn’t talk about visiting Joey and his family in San Francisco while we were in California.”

Brigida bunched her fingertips together and gestured upward with a furious tilting at the wrist. Dean had come to translate that as What the hell are you talking about? “You’re going to be that close and not visit your brother?” Brigida tisked. “I raised you better, Giulia.”

“Well, I can always go, Ma. But, I don’t think it’s fair to expect…” Julie started.

Dean broke in, “Does Joey’s wife cook as good as you, Brigida?”

Brigida scoffed. “Don’t get me started on that one.”

Dean laughed and grabbed the filled bread bowl from a wary Julie while she multitasked and stirred the pasta. “I’m sure we’ll have time to visit while we’re there.” He added.

Brigida smiled in vindication and nodded. “Go. Sit. Food’ll be out soon.”

*

Dean noticed Julie was quiet for most of the meal. She smiled at his corny jokes and let Brigida rant about the neighborhood. Dean concentrated on the food and tried to keep Brigida’s questions about Sam at a comfortable arm’s length away.

Julie attempted to intervene and divert her mother’s interrogation. “Have you been sleeping alright, Ma? You look tired.”

“When do I sleep through the night? Everything wakes me up.” She speared some rigatoni and dipped bread into the sauce. “Some nights this week…” she looked up at Julie and then stopped talking to fill her mouth with food.

Dean grinned as he munched away at the sight of Julie’s nose wrinkling up. “What?”

Brigida took her time to finish eating. “You’ll give me more of that look.” Her fork pointed at Julie’s face.

Dean chuckled. Julie stiffened her posture and shot him a lethal Italian side eye glance. “How about you tell me and we find out if I can control myself, Ma?” Julie was calm and cool with her response.

“I’ve been hearin’ weird noises in the ‘ouse.”

“The water heater acting up again?” Julie asked. Dean watched her struggle to keep her nose in check.

Brigida’s head shook. “I saw something, too. By the side of my bed.”

Dean’s ears perked up. His face stilled.

Julie sighed and went back to focus on her meal. “Who visited you this time? Nonna? Zia Elena? What did they warn you about?”

“No. It was a woman I’d never seen before in my life. In a white nurse’s uniform, with the little hat and everything.” She twirled a finger over her head. Just staring.

“Little hat?” Dean’s questioning kicked in on reflex. “Like from the 1940s or 50s?”

Brigida smiled at Dean and nodded. “Not like what they wear today.”

“Scrubs.” Julie added, then sipped at her drink. 

“Have you noticed any cold parts in the house?” Dean continued.

Brigida’s eyes widened. “My bedroom.”

“Maybe we need to look into getting that foam insulation put in. We talked about that last year, Ma.” Julie’s eyes narrowed at Dean, a silent query in his direction. “It’s October. Going to start to get chilly.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah. Absolutely, might be something to consider.”

*

Dean listened in on Brigida in the living room, talking to her brother in Italian over the phone. It was the only conversation going on at the moment. He was in the kitchen, drying the dishes that Julie washed.

He made an attempt at breaking the silence. “What are they talking about?”

She exhaled and slid another plate into the dish rack. “They’re comparing notes on their kids. Who’s been up to what.” Julie didn’t turn to look at him. “Sounds like my cousin Michael bought a new house.”

Dean sighed. “What’s going on, Jules?” He gripped a plate between a dish rag.

Julie shrugged.

“It’s something. You’ve been weird since we sat down to eat.” Dean realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

A bowl plopped in the sudsy sink, splashing water onto the front of Julie’s light blue sweater. She cocked her head to stare at him. “Weird? I’ve been weird?”

Dean swallowed. Shit. “I meant... quiet.”

Her focus went back to the dishes. “Well, it didn’t seem like there was much need for my two cents to be given on the itinerary of our trip. You and mom were planning everything out.” Her voice was rising.

Dean caught Brigida poking her head into the kitchen doorway, the phone glued to her ear. She gave Julie’s back a quick stare before surveying Dean. He threw her a timid smile. She went back to chatting and left the kitchen.

“I had enough of that with Steve, Dean.” Julie mumbled.

“Enough of what?”

Julie tilted her head up, looking at the cabinets, and shook her head. “You know, sometimes…” Her eyes shut. “Making blanket decisions about things that concerned the both of us.” The last dish went in the rack and she rinsed her hands, then turned off the faucet. “I was being considerate of you when my mom poked her nose into what we were doing. I told her I needed to check with you first. That we would talk about it.” She tore a couple sheets from the paper towel roll to dry up. “And, then, you’re just going along with what she says.”

His mouth opened in disbelief. “I was only trying to make your mom happy.”

Julie took a couple deep breaths. “I know you were. And, I’m probably overreacting.” She started stacking similar plates to go back into her mother’s old school china closet in the living room. “Just, know that it means a lot to me for us to talk about plans and decisions.”

He nodded. “Alright.”

Her eyes locked on his. “And, why are you feeding into my mom’s close encounters of the ghost kind stuff?”

“Huh?”

“The questions you were asking? Do you believe in that?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Huh.” She left the room with a handful of plates and tossed a condescending grin over her shoulder at him. “Do you cross the street when a black cat crosses your path, too?”

Shit.

*

There were definitely cold spots in Brigida’s house. But they emanated from Julie’s icy aura as she said her goodbyes in the living room. Brigida tapped her on the cheek and told her to be good. That only seemed to further stiffen her demeanor.

“Dean, I’m going to wrap up some extra pasta for you. Since this one keeps saying I give her more than she can eat.” Brigida rubbed his forearm. “You wait.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest but the tiny woman was already halfway to her kitchen.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Ma.” Julie sighed.

Brigida waved a hand and mumbled something.

Julie fumbled with the huge bag of leftovers in her arms. “So.” She glanced through the screen door. “I’m gonna get going.”

“Let me, Jules.” He outstretched his hands.

She shook her head. “Nope. You’ll have your own end of the world care package to deal with.” There was an attempt at a smile on her part. But it seemed way too forced for his liking. “I was going to look into plane tickets tonight. Try and lock down some dates.”

He smiled.

“But…”

His smile dropped.

“Wondering if we need to talk some more about things.”

Dean rushed out his willingness. “Sure. We can talk. I’ll come by later.”

Julie stepped back toward the screen door. “I’ll call you. If I have time later.” She fiddled with the latch and punched at the handle with her elbow.

“Julie…” Dean’s voice halted her in mid-dash. “This wasn’t me making the call, deciding that I knew what was best. Please, sweetheart.”

She exhaled, snuck a peek past his biceps towards the kitchen. Her eyes then locked with his. “Look, I love my mother. But she can be a headstrong pain in the ass. I’ve gotten a sneaking suspicion over the past few months that you have that same characteristic.” She adjusted the bag in her hands. Dean willed his arms to stay tight to his sides instead of reaching out to help. That was the last thing she was going to want right then and there. He knew it. “Even with Steve, Dean, I learned to go with the flow and take charge when I was given permission to do so or when it was expected that I would just swoop in and fix things.” She sighed. “I knew it wasn’t going to be all fairy-tale like with us forever. And, it’s probably more of my baggage that I’m bringing into this situation than necessary.” She shook her head. “I gotta go.” Julie hurried off the porch and down the steps.

Hell if that’s how we’re leaving this. “Brigida,” he called out. “I’ll be right back!” It didn’t take much for his determined stride, arms pumping at his sides, to catch up to Julie. “I’m asking if I can carry that for you.” He huffed.

She huffed back and shoved the bag into his arms. “There.”

“Thank you.” He nodded in vindication. They walked in silence to her little blue compact. A chirp signaled Julie had unlocked the car. She lifted the hatchback door. Dean slid the bag in and moved fast before she slammed the lid onto his head. “Hey.” He grabbed her at the elbow. “I-Julie-look…” A wave of guilt spread through him when he saw the tears forming in her eyes. “Baby, I never want to make you cry.” He smiled. “Well, maybe if we’re in bed.”

A look of shock followed his comment. Julie chuckled and shook her head.  “Always with the jokes.”

He shrugged, grabbing her at the waist and pulling her close.

“Dean, you’re just going to give the neighbors something to talk about.” Her body gave in even though her words insisted on resistance.

“Let ‘em talk.” He whispered. “I want them to know I fight for what I care about.” His forehead pressed to hers. “You’re important to me, Jules. This. With you. It’s important to me.” He straightened and narrowed his eyes. Her beautiful brown ones stared back, glassy and wide. “Don’t let me fuck it up.”

She sniffled, then smiled.

“Can I come by later? When you’re ready? To talk?” 

A nod.

Dean pecked her lips. “Get that sweet ass home, safe and sound.”

Julie grinned. “I missed you.”

He sighed. “I missed you, too.” His fingers stroked hers. “You know, we haven’t had make-up sex yet.”

“Don’t push it.” She pulled away, still grinning. “Call you later, hot stuff.”

Dean waited on the sidewalk for Julie to situate herself in the driver’s seat. He leaned down, peeked through the passenger window and met her smile with a wink. The little car sprinted up the street and around the corner. He sighed, the unease abating a bit with Julie. Now, though, there was Brigida to deal with. And, her night nurse. He beelined to Baby and grabbed his EMF meter.

*

It was a simple excuse to get upstairs. He politely asked Brigida if he could use the bathroom before heading out. He bounded up the steps, then lightened the weight of his feet to creep down the hall toward Brigida’s bedroom.

Every available window was open in the row home. City sounds on a Sunday surrounded and whipped past Dean, breezing through Brigida’s fancy, lacy curtains. Kids were playing, screaming in backyards. A car stereo blared in the front. A police siren whizzed down the main artery into the Little Italy neighborhood.

Dean pulled out the EMF meter and flipped a switch. The first indicator lit red. His reflection in the dresser mirror frowned as the lights blipped up and up. He waved the meter over the dresser counter. It buzzed and held all solid red over a jewelry box. The box was a deep mahogany brown, with intricate wood carvings and inlaid mother of pearl.

“Shit.” He whispered.

“What are you doing, Dean-ah?” He turned to find Brigida in her bedroom doorway. She eyed the gadget in his hand.

Dean cursed internally. He’d let the outside noises overwhelm his senses and the possibility of uncovering a supernatural threat overtake his focus. “Ah…” He flipped off the meter and tucked it into his back jean pocket.

“What’s that?”

He pointed to the window and gave her a cheeky smile, hoping he could distract her. “I heard some police activity outside. Thought I’d check it out.” He tapped the jewelry box. “How long have you had this?”

The wariness in her face added a few more wrinkles. “Last week, at the party. It was a birthday gift from Marie and Joe. They found it at one of those…” Her fingers rubbed together. “Consignment shops.”

Jackpot. “Brigida.” How do I get this out of her house and torch the thing?” This is going to sound strange…” 

Brigida smiled. “The kind of strange Giulia doesn’t believe in?”

Dean’s mouth dropped. His mouth dried, trying to come up with something, anything, to say.

“I knew it!” Brigida wagged a finger up at the ceiling. She brought it down, focused the point in the middle of Dean’s chest, where her eye level met his tall stature. “I knew you were special. When you found Giulia, when she’d gone missing…” She made the sign of the cross. “Then, Gloria at the old folk’s home. Everything went back to normal, she told me, after you visited. No more weird deaths and no sign of the smelly nurse.” She raised a greying eyebrow. “You did something, didn’t you?” Dean hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic response from Brigida. Her eyes were wide and waiting.

He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, Brigida.”

She stepped close to inspect him. A slow nod came next. “I understand.” She winked, scrunching the whole right side of her face up in the gesture. “So, if that box there happens to disappear, my new visitor might, too?”

This is bad. This woman cannot keep a secret. “Brigida… if Julie finds out about any of this, which is actually not really anything… well…”

“She’ll give you the nutty looks...” The finger now wagged at the jewelry box. “Nutty looks about this stuff... that’s not really anything.”

Dean gestured with his hands. “Okay. Sometimes, theoretically, a soul or spirit can stay stuck. Not move on. For a lot of reasons.”

“Like unfinished business. Or revenge. Or curses. Curses are big with Italians.” Brigida tracked the conversation without batting an eyelid.

Dean tilted his head in agreement. “Sure. Whatever. They can be tied to their buried remains. Or something that belonged to them.”

“Ah. So, this jewelry box might have belonged to that woman visiting me at night.” She made the sign of the cross again and whispered something in Italian. “How do we put her at peace?”

Dean smiled at the fact that her first instinct was abouting finding a way to help the ghost. “Well, I can start by burning this.” He lifted the lid and peeked at the interior. A deep green velvet encased the tiny compartments for all types of jewelry. “You haven’t put anything in it yet? Or, taken anything out of it, have you?”

“No, to both.” A shake of her head. A sweeping gesture directed toward the box with one hand. “Take it. Burn it in the backyard.”

“You sure?”

Brigida nodded once, firm. “Of course.” The wrinkles around her eyes relaxed, then retreated. “I trust you. After all, Dean-ah, you saved my daughter. And, you care about her. I can tell.”

Dean tapped the lid closed and stood tall. “Of course.”

“And, she cares about you. A lot.” Brigida nodded twice at that.

His cheeks warmed at the intimate turn in the discussion.

“There was always something missing. With Steve.”

The out of left field comment startled him. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Never felt right to me. Her, with him. I was surprised she actually went through with the wedding. I was sure she was going to call the thing off. And, then, almost ten years with that man. Not even good enough to lick the bottom of her shoes.” Dean allowed the protective mamma to continue her rant. “She’s tryin’ really hard to not focus on the anniversary comin’ up.”

“Anniversary?”

Brigida pursed her lips. “Wedding anniversary is the 27th this month. Oh, that year they got married. It was awful. There was so much agita between them, with the plans and just everything. She tried so hard to keep it all from me. After, Steve kept saying they’d gotten so lucky that the wedding happened a few days before Hurricane Sandy. We’d had so much family in Delaware for the celebration.” Her eyes rolled at the last word. “Thank God, everyone was back home safe when it hit the east coast. She and Steve were already on their honeymoon in Los Angeles. And, Joey brought me back with him and the family in San Francisco. I did that to make him happy or else I would have stayed home. But, still… Giulia has a lot on her mind right now. Lots of memories...”

Shit. She didn’t tell me anything. Dean recalled the facts he’d dug up on Julie and Steve months ago. “They would have been married ten years, then?”

Brigida nodded. Her small hand latched onto his forearm. “Oh, Dean. Don’t tell her I told you any of this. She would get so upset that I talked to you about any of that.”

Dean tried to calm her worry. “You do me a solid, Mrs. Cuore?” He waved a finger between the both of them. “You keep this little shake and bake I’m about to do in your backyard a secret and I’ll do the same.”

“You got it.” She smiled. “But, one day we are going to sit down with some coffee and cake and you are going to tell me all about this stuff.”

He nodded. “One day.” But, I’m gonna have to come clean with your daughter first. And, soon.

Read Part 4 and the story in its entirety on AO3

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#dean winchester x ofc #dean x ofc #spnfanficpond #spn fanfics #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst

[endoftheroad1983]

Protection R Us

Protection R Us

Dean Winchester X  Reader

“Thank God you showed up!” Sam greet me at the door. He usher me in as quick as he could and guild me through the maze of the new bunker. My eyes wonder along the walls that still had no personality to them.

“I'm here to help in any way I can. Dean didn't tell me what kind of case, but I could hear in his voice that something big is going down.” You answer as Sam took your orange and white backpack and a pure orange carry on bag.

“We really appreciate it. We are a little bit out number at the moment.” Sam toss your bags into a spare room and then lead you to the war room. Where Bobby Singer sat. He was completely  healthy and alive. The time didn't show any signs of him being older then when you knew him.

You were overwhelm by the sight of Bobby sitting at the table. He was sitting in between a blonde woman and  a younger blonde juvenile. You stop dead in your tracks as your eyes did a double second take on him.

“Bobby?” You breath out.  Last you knew Bobby had join the other hunter's in the sky. The mention of his name brought tears in your eyes. You tried blinking them out but it was too late. Bobby was your solid ground to you, back in the day. He took notice you standing in the doorway.

“Hey kid, how ya been?” He push away from the table that held a huge map on it and made his way to you. I guess this is why they call it the War Room. You gratefully egress into his hug as it felt great to see him again, “I know, I know, It's been a bit. I guess you didn't know?” His rough voice was filled with question and guilt.

“You can say that again. But no, Dean didn't mention anything like this in our rare check ups.” You gush out with a laugh, you were just happy to see him back. But the reunion was cut short by a certain voice.

“Y/N, I”m glad you came.” Dean's deep voice sent chills down your spine. His voice was different now that you were here. You couldn't pin point his feelings but then again you never could with the older Winchester.

“Of course I did.” You were met with two more pairs of eyes. Your heart jump into your throat making it hard to speak. There she stood. What were you suppose to do? You couldn't freak out. You and Dean hadn't seen each other in years. The short texts and phone calls were what you got from him. So it makes sense that he went back to her. You let the frustration out only in your head and greeted them with a polite smile.

In front of Dean stood Lisa and Ben. You force yourself to swallow a huge gulp that form in your throat to go down. The heartache drove the nail deeper into your already wounded heart.

“Hello, I'm Y/N/N.” you recover quickly.

Lisa was quick to introduce Ben and Herself. It was hard to take in. You knew about Lisa and her son after the fall of Sam took place. You left well alone because Sam wanted Dean to be happy with a normal life. A life that you could not offer since you were in the same business.

“Can I have a word with you?” Dean gravelly voice rose from behind you. You spun around to face him only to almost collide into his board chest. His intense eyes was staring you down. You only nodded your head and follow him out of the war room. Soon you found yourself alone in the kitchen. Your mouth drop open at how big and updated it was. Once you were done scanning the room, you force your eyes back to him.

“What?” You ask as your eyes widen to the look he was giving you. The serious face he was giving out in the war room had faded into relax loving gaze. Dean stood by a metal table that was in between the two of you.

“It's good to lay eyes on you again.” His comment caught you off guard. Your head snap toward the door way and then back to him. Letting his words rotate in your brain. The sudden switch in his demoner was a great distraction. The last hunt you guys were on went bad. That's when things went south for the two you.

“It's good to see you again, too.” You finally admit as your eyes met his. Dean's pouty lips rise into a astonishing smile. A smile you hadn't seen in forever. Bitter words and snide remarks was the last thing you two said to each others. The smile made your heart beat. You two never hook up or anything like that but this boy was trouble and you knew it. But your brain wouldn't let you have this joyful moment with him. It was already thinking about the case with Lisa and Ben in the background.

“So what's going on? Do you need me to hunt down a lead?” You broke out of the staring contest you were having with him.

“No, nothing like that. I need you to do something very important for me. I'm only asking you because I know I can trust you to get the job done.” His bright green eyes darken as he spoke. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms after hearing that he trusted You even after all this time.

“You got it D, what do you need me to do?” You started to walk around the table to get closer to him but something in your gut made you stop. So you only made it to the head of the table. You reach out and patted Dean's hand before retrieving back.

“I need you to stay here and watch over them.” His eyes were now were scary dark. His request again had you floor with another distraction.

“You want me to babysit?” The words finally form in your mouth even though you knew you could spit out a better way of saying it.

“Yes, They're very important people in my life that I need you to guard them while Bobby, Sam, and I are gone.” And that is where you were shot down from your cloud nine. Guess you didn't make the cut of his small friends and family circle. So much for the old love feelings, You thought as you put yourself in hunter mode.

“Yea, you got it.” You respond but even you notice the sudden tone in your voice.

So did Dean as he close the space between you. He reach out grabbing gently onto your shoulder. You look up at him while putting on your best fake smile.

“What's wrong?” His voice now in a whisper. The tone so seductive that you already felt yourself slipping through the cracks of your own wall.

“I just normally don't do Babysitting but if that's what you guys need then I'm here to get the job done. What are you hunting?”

“Some kind of new shifter over in New Orleans.” His eyes shift in moods again but You were already breaking free from his stare as you continue to poke information out of him.

“When do you leave?” You suddenly found the table quite interesting with your eyes.

“We are leaving around eleven tonight.” You nodded.

“Look, Y/N...” Dean started but was cut off by Ben and the blonde teen entering the kitchen.

“Can you show me the man room?” Ben ask right away.

“Uh in a minute, Ben. I have to catch up with Y/N before heading out.” Dean scratch the back of his head. You turn your head to Dean.

“Nah, the mission is pretty self-explanatory.” You tried to excuse your self back to the war room but Dean wasn't having it.

“No, there is more I need to tell you.” Dean reach out for you and pull you into the war room, “Jack you need to be in here too.” He gruff out behind him as kept a tight grip on you.

The 'more talk' ended up being a half an hour long. There was so much that spun your head as Sam talk about meeting Jack first and his back ground.you where floor by who Jack's father was. That was when he brought his attention to the blonde woman sitting on Dean's right. Lisa was on his left but lets not get your jealousy boiling. Turns out that she was their dead mother Mary. Jack had help recuse her and Bobby.

“Just when you think your guys life can get any stranger then in a snap of finger, your in another drama soap opera.” You gush out laughing. You place a hand on your chest. The news was certainly overwhelming so you excuse yourself for another beer.

You found peace in being alone in the kitchen. So much emotions were trying to take over that You just needed a breather, or so that's what your head was telling you. You found a beer in the fridge and snap it open. You let your eyes wonder over everything in the kitchen. You survey where everything was, you should get a quick tour from one of the guys before they leave. You told yourself you need a perimeter check. If they are hunting a shifter, they could be anywhere or anyone so this would be the first place they would hit. Unless they were hunting a greenie that was a bit to messy.

“A penny for your thought.” A low grumbling voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were not disturb by the presence lurking be hide you.

“About time you spoke up, I was wondering how long you were going to stand in the door way.” Bobby chuckle at your comment.

“Never could sneak up on you. Even when your in your damn head.” You turn to face him.

“Well I got peeps that have been helping more with my training now.”

“Oh, that so. Anybody special I should know about.” Your nose scrunch of falling in love with another guys so soon. You look to see the playfulness in his eyes.

“No, their a different type of team but they are doing well keeping the monster at bay. I'm proud to be part of their family.” You brush it off. It was a lot of truth in your words but there was still secrets to be held.

“Oh.”

“So wow, that was a bomb dropped.” You blew out knowing that Bobby would get what you were saying.

“It's been an interesting time without you.” Oh that was a low blow even for him.

You huffed out a grunt.

“Yea well it wasn't working out and I thought a little time would ease things over but I guess that I spent more time away then I thought.” You confess freely.

“Time is a fickle thing.” He retorted while going for another beer.

“When did you grow wiser?” You poke fun at him. This earn you a earn small smile that only Bobby's close ones can witness.

“Didn't you hear? I pulled a Sam and Dean.” We share a laugh as he was referring to Dean and Sam's death.

“Well pass that shit they gave you cause I’m really sick of losing our people.”

Time spun faster then you thought as it was quickly approaching Eleven. Dean broke down and took Ben and Lisa to his man cave. Sam had giving you and Mary a full tour of the bunker so that you could have more eyes on the place. By the time you guys reach the garage, Sam couldn't take your giggling anymore.

“Ok what gives, Y/N/N.” He wasn't anger as you can see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Are you schooling your mother on how to be safe. Between the two of us I say we have this cover. Everything will be fine.” Sam shook his head.

“I'm not schooling, I'm just making sure that you two know what to do if something happens when we are gone.” You widen your eyes as you shared a look with Sam that scream those weren't the right words to use.

“Mary, you should ground him for doubting us.” Mary smile a weary smile. Sam had told You she was still having a hard time adjusting to being back around them. You could see the look she would give them often. It read that she couldn't believe these were her babies. She had lost so much time with them that You bet she couldn't name some of their favorite things.

“Yes, I think I should.” Jumping into the joke. This earn a laugh from you.

“What's going on in here?” Dean's voice cut your laughter short. You weren't expecting him to catch up with you guys on the tour. Your not gonna lie you thought he was to hang out with Ben and Lisa. She seem glue to his side since you got here.

“He's grounded!”

“They're ganging up on me!” You and Sam spoke at the same time. Man did it feel good to laugh like that.

Eleven was here now and the boys, including Bobby, were heading out the door. It was just you standing in the doorway. The boys had said their good-byes in the man cave where all the other's were. Mary gave them a look that you could only mirror. She didn't like being left behind and neither did you, as a matter of fact.

Sam gave you a big hug while wishing you guys to be safe. Bobby gave you a quick pat on the back as he strode by.

“Keep these Idjits safe for me?” You toss your head towards the boys. This got you frowns from them. As Bobby and Sam climb into the car, Dean was hesitated to join them. You raise a questioning eyebrow to him. “What?” You barely got out as Dean was suddenly in front of you.

Dean tower over you as you couldn't read the emotion behind his eyes. And for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you. You felt your lips pucker up when you saw his do the same. But another crash was waiting for you around the bend as he pressed his warm lips on your forehead.

“Keep 'em safe.” He mumble with no emotion in his voice.

“Yes, They will be. Remember you called me? I won't let anything happen to them.” You half joke at him to cover up the feelings that you were having a hard time controlling.

“Yes, yes I did.” The doom and gloom look in his eyes transform into another loving look.

“Now get out of here, so you can get back to them sooner.” Ben and Lisa and Mary. And You are true to your word. They were innocent people that need protecting. Why was your brain tormenting you right now. Something in Dean's eyes flicker at your words. But he brush it off. Dean nodded and took of to his car. You were quick to get back inside to lock up.

After triple checking the bunker for safety and exploration, you stumble upon Dean's man cave. The Tv was blaring a little to loud for your liking but the kids are stuck here and you knew the bunker was soundproof so let them have their fun. You poke your head in the room. The boys had some kind of horror movie on, probably one of Dean's fave, Mary and Lisa  found a corner opposite of the doorway to talking softly with themselves. All good here, you thought as you slip out of the doorway.

“Wait Y/N, come sit with us for a bit.” It was Lisa who called out to you. You bit your tonage as you slowly turn around to greet the women. Mary offer you a spot next to your. You sat down gingerly.What were you suppose to talk about with the crush of your life's mother and girlfriend?

“So you are in the business as well?” Lisa's eyes lit up as she ask the question. You shift a little uncomfortable about where this was going to lead.

“Yea, I have a family like this back in California that I check in with often. I like to travel a lot.” The last part wasn't a total lie. Keeping yourself on the road kept your mind from wondering back to a cheeky Winchester.

“Oh what are they like?”

“Uh well there at not the typical hunting group but their team work has save a lot of people and has help close Hell Mouths in their area.”

“So you been hunting long?” Mary took a sip of beer as her eyes wonder over to the boys and then the door. Always keeping an eye out, that was a life motto. Nowhere was completely safe.

“Yea grew up in a community of them. Crazy hunters that believing that they can both hunt and have a family.”

“Oh how is that working?” Lisa's eye burn into your as you answer Mary's question.

“Well we have lost the same amount of our people as of yours. So about the same.” Your eyes darted to the door to escape the pain look in Lisa's eyes.  Mary nodded as your response.

“How did you met the guys?” Lisa swallow a mouthful of beer as distraction from your look.

“Oh ran into each other on a hunt, decided to share it and then hung out at a shady looking bar before we exchange numbers. Then we went our separate ways.” You left out the blow out with Dean a few years ago. You also left out the fact that you and Dean were pretty close with each other. No need to start that drama, You thought as got up and stretch your arms. Your belly was getting hungry and you require to check the bunker again.

“Really?” Befuddle set in both Mary and Lisa's eyes.

“So when did you and Dean date in your time frame with him?” Jack's question made you almost snap your neck looking at him. Your mouth hit the floor. What did he say? Your brain quickly replay the question for you over and over.

“Dean and I never been together like that. We've just good friends.” I put my hands up in defenses. Your heart was hammer worst then a jack hammer.

“How odd Sam says...” Jack continue but Mary cut him off with a look.

“Really?” Lisa was astound by Your answer. You try scanning her eyes for jealous or hatred but she was just as confuse. Before anymore questions could be thrown your way, you excuse yourself for the checking round and to make dinner. Mary and Lisa protest but you wave it off.

Sam said what? You chugged a half of beer before putting back in the fridge. What was that? It felt like they were interrogating you but in a school girl way. You brush it off as you made your rounds quickly and then head into the kitchen to make burgers.

“Seriously Y/N? Your just going to walk out?” You stop for a moment but refuse to turn around. Your bag hanging off your shoulder. Now he chose to lighten up on the anger? You shook your head as you vow not to speak anymore tonight to him. But Dean, being Dean, wasn't having it.

You took a deep breath in and focus on the light beer buzz. You put your hand on the handle and that’s when a guilty feeling hit you. “Don't wait up for me. I'll be back late.”Breaking your vow of silence to hopeful give him a peace of mind of your return. You were frustration with him but you still kept your head.

“Where are you going?” Dean growled out like an anger parent.

“Back to Tobias.” The lie roll off your tongue. But if he knew You just wanted to be alone then he would tag along. Dean was a confrontational man when he was poke, But You? On the other hand, needed breathing room to rein in your emotions. And boy did you have a lot.

“We just left the bar?” Confusion was not taking over his tone.

“No, you got angry and dragged me home. Like this!” You hiss while snatching his wrist, in which you gave a strong tug. The action caught Dean off guard, he had to take a step to regain his balance. That's what it was like for you only the tugging didn't stop until you got to the motel.

“Well you shouldn't be doing that kind of stuff with an injury like that!” You knew You were painting Dean into a corner and that was a bad idea. But not one time did he even think about how you felt about the how situation.

And in truths, the relationship between the two of you went from love fun friends to him giving you the silent treatment all the time. So this fight you were both picking with each other had been building up the last couple months. You glance down at the area he was pointed. Without thinking about it You pull up on your shirt up to your bra line.

“What about it?” You look down to see only a light busing. You hum to yourself as you thought it would at least bruise more.  

“Uh...” The hesitate in Dean's voice made your eyes snap up at him. His cheeks were dusted in red and he was looking away. Your cheeks flush as you realize what you had done. You drop your shirt while look away. You were still waiting for an explanation.

“It looks fine to me.” You piped up when he wasn't going to give you one.

“I don't want you to leave.” He blurt out.

“Oh...” The tone in Deans voice melted all your anger away.

Dean took a step forward but then stop. It seem that he had more on his mind for you to hear.

“What you did tonight.”Your eyes met his. You were shock to see that the anger wasn't back but pure terror was in its place. That was all you require to close the space between you. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you buried your head in his shoulder. This was it, Your heart swell with the thought that Dean was going to open up to you about his feelings.

But you were shot down as he grabbed your waist after a moment pushing you away.

“You can't do that again. You can't put your life at risk like that Not for me, Not for Sam. Do you got it?” You smile softly as it was another miscalculating with you two. You brush your hand across his cheek.

“Dean, I didn't put myself in danger. I was were I was when I needed to be. I always be where you need me.” Your voice drop to a whisper as you could feel Dean's hands snake around your waist again pulling you closer.

Your lips dance with each other before you two pulled for air. You were finally kissing Dean. You look up to see the green dancing with excitement.

“Whatever you call it. Just don't do it again.” He purred into your neck. You wish that you could let his words go but you couldn't. What did he mean by that? You pulled back and look at him.

“I can't Sweetheart. I stuck to the plan and I will always stick to the plans.”

Dean's face fell as the scenario play out again.

“That wasn't the plan. The plan was for me to...”

“That was the first plan, Sam and I can up with this one.” Dean plan failed when he was caught by three demons. You sigh as the peaceful movement had vanish already.

“You put yourself in danger and you guys call that a plan!” Dean bark out making you cringe from his loudness.

“It got the job done. What did you want us to do? Let you get killed?” You pinch the bridge of your nose as you sat down in a chair close to the door.

“Yes, I want both of you to get out of there.” Dean stood in front of you with his hands on his hips as he stare down to you.

“News flash, Who do you think will have to take care of them if you did die?” You raise your hands to gesture yourself.  Your words smacked the words right out of Dean. Did he seriously think that you were going to give up hunting if something happen to one of them? A few moment in the quiet brought Dean back to the room.

He move over to you and pulled you into your feet. He tower over you if he stood straight up but this time he crumble down into you as you you wrapped your arms back around him. The two you of stay that way for awhile.

“Whenever you need me. I will be there.” You whisper to him. Even when he didn't want you there.

“I need to tell you something...” He breath into your ears just as a knock came to the door.

You broke apart to answer the door. It was probably Sam trying to get back in. But to be on the safe side you put your foot on the other side the door to prevent someone form busting through.

“Hiya, Sugar, are you the surprise Dean was whispering in my ears about.” You didn't respond to her question as you shut the door slightly. You scan the floor for your bag.

“Who is it?” Dean call to you as tears where already blurring your vision. You found the forgotten bag and made it back to the door before he caught up with what was going on.

“What is it now? Y/N.” He growling with anger when he saw your tears. This made you stop at the door. You open it all the way waving the barfly in.

“No Honey. He is all yours.” You said to them both as you bolted out the door.

“Y/N?! Come back here!” Dean tried to catch up but he didn't want to leave the motel room empty.

“Y/N!?” He call again you spun on your heels a few feet away from the main road.

“Don't wait up for me!. I'm going to meet up with Tobias.” You spat out.

You disappear into the night back tracking to the bar. You didn't meet up with Tobias. You don't even know why you even told him that. Who were you kidding? You did it out the hatred of the barfly that show up ready to party with a guy you thought was falling in love with you. You did stay out late. So late that you never did return to the motel that night.

It was evening time on the forth night when you got a phone call from Sam. When his name lit up on your phone you assume that it was a check up call or better they were finishing up and heading home. But the conversation that you held with him was triggering your hunting instincts.

“How's it going?”

“It's still going. Everyone still at the bunker?” Sam's voice was a bit off. And his question over the phone was concerning.

“We are right were you guys left us.” I poke fun at him. He grunted with that answer. Sam hardly ever did that.

“Good, that's good. Uh Dean is heading out there now. Can you have him call me when he gets in?”

“Un sure, Why is Deano heading back so soon? Did you bag the demons?”

“Uh yea, Bobby and I are just finishing up here.”

“Sweet. Umm when did Dean leave so I can get a ETA. You know so I can let him in.” You tried playing casual as you could.

“Oh he'll be there in a couple hours.” Sam said. And you could almost hear the smirking in his voice. Why would he be smile at this.

“Ok well I will let you go and I will have Dean text ya when he gets hear.”

The conversation with Sam ran cold chills down your spine. You hope the guys were ok. You set out to collect Mary and Lisa to tell them the news.  The day had spill into a beautiful blue twilight when you heard the pounding of Dean's fist on the door. It echo out down the halls disturbing the peacefulness that it had fallen into. You sat the book that you were reading down to answer it.

“Who's there?” You tease through the metal. Dean's growling voice answered back. Dean didn't waste anytime stomping through the door way. You quickly shut and lock the door.

“Hey what the Muck, Winchester?” You growled at him as you grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to the front door. His green eyes held a void in them as they stare down at you. You took a silver blade out of your pocket.

“It's me! Alright?” He pull his arm away from my grip.

“Are you kidding me!? These are your rules!” You snap back. Boy was he being an asshole.

Your snide remark must of kick start his brain as he began nodding his head. He lifted up his long sleeve shirt. Strange bruises were up and down his arm. You took the blade and flatten to his skin. Dean made no reaction. Just like you thought.

“Wow you had a trip. Are you okay.” You mention done to his wounds.

“Yes, yes. I'm a little antsy right now. The stupid Demon got away.” You kept your face with a concern look as you thought back on Sam's words. The demons was already dead.

“Oh shit. Okay what next? You need me to pack up and head out to Sammy?” You cross your arms over your chest to show that you were worried.

“Yes, I think that's a good idea. Where is Lisa and Ben by the way?”

Your face drop a little as you tried to remember as if the question blind sight you.

“I think they are watching a comedy in the man's cave. You did give them access to it while they were here.” Dean's eyes narrow down as he scan your eyes for any lies. He nodded.

“Well I don't need to tell you where it is. I'm going to go pack and head out.” And with that you casual walk down the hall to your room with an extra shake to your hips.

You listen as Dean stomp his boots down to the cave. Once he was inside the room with the lights on you slipped in the room with him. He didn't seem to notice you had been stalking him as he was angry mutter something on under his breathe.

“Oh that's right! They all went for a movie. I was so caught up in the peace that I forgot they left.” Your voice startle him as he spun around to greet you.

He shove his hands in his front pocket to contain the anger that he was feeling.

“Which one?”

“I dunno.” you retorted.

“When will they be back?”

“I dunno.” You blew out your respond on that one.

“How could you let them leave?” His voice filling up with more rage.

“Sam call and gave me the okay.” You retorted back.

“You shouldn't have let them leave.” The lowness of the voice was what you had been waiting on.

“Geez Dean, I'm not their mother. They said they were going so I let them.”

Dean lash out at You grabbing you by the arms and shoving you to the wall. Your shoulder hit the wall but You quickly regain your guard. He had no idea he was falling for your trap. Now he was in between you and the door.

“What the hell!?” You cry out in the same rage.

“You shouldn't have done that.” He growled again but this time his voice was more like a animal then Dean.

“What are you going to do? Kill me and wear my skin?” You back fire with a devilish grin. This made the shifter face falter.

“Doesn't matter your the first to go. Then I will hunt down the others.”

The shifter didn't waste anytime lunging for you again. The both of you wrestle around for a few before he had you by the arms and pinned up against the wall. In that short of time the shifter had manage to slice you with silver blade that he kept a hold of. The gash wasn't deep but the blood pouring out didn't show it. Boy, was this a strong whipper snapper, you thought as you struggle to get loose. Dean's green eyes faded into black with a fire-orange outline. The real Dean wasn't kidding when he said it was a new kind of shifter.  He lean his mouth closer Your neck as I could see that he was planning to bite out your throat.

“Hey Asshole!” A new voice rang out in the room. The shifter turn to see that Mary was in her fighting stance with a gun. “Leave her be!” This made the shifter chuckle.

“And if I don't?” He asked not take his off you.

A loud bang rang out in the small concrete room. Mary had shot a silver bullet into his shoulder. The shifter lose his grip on you. He chortle at the move she made.  He turn to face her. Mary's face was still stone poker straight.

“That's not going to work on me.” He spit out at her.

“We know, but this will.” You broke your arm free and dropped the syringe into your palm. The syringe had been hiding up your sleeve since you got the call from Sam. Before either one could react you slam the needle into his neck and push down hard and fast. 100 cc of pure liquid silver mix with salt.

Black veins began to spread on his skin. The dosage that you gave him sent him on the ground in convulsions. You and Mary watch as smoke began to rise from the dead corpse leaving behind one hellish smell. Once you were sure that the shifter was dead. You pull out your phone and took pictures of it. You then proceeded to retrieve another syringe. This time it was empty. You bend down and took as much slimy blood as you could.

This earn you a look from Mary.

“I got a couple peeps that loves to look at this stuff under the scope. She breaks it all the way down to the DNA strain.” Mary nodded.

“Your California family? Anyone special?” The question took you off guard. What was she fishing for now?

“Just a very, very, old brother and his hunting crew. Been with them since I was 18.” She look impressed. Once that vial was safely put away, You had Mary return to Lisa and Ben.

“Can I offer you any assistance?” Jack broke you from your thoughts. You had been staring at the corpse while running scenarios in your head. You smile at the politeness that beam off him.

“Oh Jacky, until you get your grace back you are a target as well,” You started as You saw that his smile dropped a bit. “But if you go secure the others in a new spot without my knowledge then you can be my look out?”

The brightness in his smile bounce out of the room just as he did. He really was a good kid. You look down to your blood soak shirt. You will have to tend to that later. Who else know how many more shifters were lurking out there. It seem the monster have been hunting together. Which means they have been studying us and how we hunt them.  

Jack was back in a flash arm with a gun. You raise an eyebrow to him.

“Don't worry, I have been train and this is my own gun.” His words were strong and focus but that did stop you from being a little wary about it.

“Ok, Lets do this before it gets too dark.”

It took surprisingly an hour to been done with the burning. Jack made due on his word. He never spoke but kind hidden in the shadows. He must have pick that up from Dean. Once that was said and done and the both of you were back inside. You sent Jack back to the others, but he pause once he hit the doorway.

“But then you won't know where we are to protect us?” He question as his face scrunch feriecerly.

“Yes, because we can't be to certain that there are others out there that are ready to pounce next. Mary knows what to do next.” You usher him along as it was pushing nearly three in the morning.  A smile wash the frustration out on his face.

“I like you, Y/N. I hope we can take some time out and talk.” Jack beam at you.

“I like you too Jack but you need to hide.”

It was so quiet in the bunker that you could hear a ticking clock in your mind as the minutes past. You had clasped into a chair that was facing the bunker main door. You had made another sweep around that main parts of the bunker for the fifteen time as you were still buzzing from the adrenaline. You wonder back on the boys as you hope everything was okay. If a shifter show up here, did it mean they were in trouble or was this a plot to get to Dean's love ones without him here? Your mind was coming up with new scenes by the ticking seconds.

Pounding erupted on the thick metal door causing you to jump up pulling your gun in front of you. You made your way to the door but not dropping your gun.

“Who is it?” You call roaring.

“It's us, can you let us in?” Sam voice answer back. You did as he ask but once the door was open the four men were greet with your gun. What four guys? Cas had join them now.

“It's okay Y/N, It's us the case is close and the three bastards are dead.” Dean beam brightly as he nodded down to his arm. You had fail to see that all three guys had their silver blade against their skin. Their arms were dirty but no weird bruise. So then you move your gun to Cass.

“Well you know how to prove it you already.” You lower your gun as he vanish into thin air.

You lower your gun and follow the boys into the war room where it was brighter. Just the shining victory in their eyes told you they were really them. Dean had disappear into the kitchen for beer as Bobby pull your guard chair back with an eyebrow to Sam.

“What happen?” He question but before you could explain Sam interrupt you again. “ Y/N your cover in blood what happen?”

In two seconds Sam and Bobby were standing by you waiting for you to show the wound.

“I'm fine. But we had a guest appearance by a fourth shifter.” You laugh out to show that you were not seriously injury.

“What? There was a fourth one?” Bobby gruff out as he called out to Dean.

Your face flared up as Bobby holler his name. Sam usher you to a chair and pull up your shirt. He was in the process of cleaning the cake blood from your skin when Dean reappeared.

“Y/N? Your hurt?” Worry wash over his once happy face. You felt horrible for robbing him of his rare happy moments.

“I”m fine. He's dead and burned and I even got a blood sample to see if we can make it easier to kill them.” Your words rush over deaf ears as Dean shut his mouth and look at you.

“Ben and Lisa?” He blurred out.

A flash of pain took over your face at his words.

“Sorry, how long have you been injured?” Sam took the wince as if he did it.

“Your fine Sammy,” You told him quietly. You look back up at Dean.

“I don't know.” You said coolly as your eyes stare back into his. Another wave of shock turn anger took over his bright eyes like a storm clouds on the beach.

“What the hell do you mean you don't know!?” He bark out, just like the night of your departure.

“Dean.” Sam snapped at his brother. Dean put the five beers down on the map table and shove his hand in his pockets. He stare you down for an explanation. You almost felt like a five year old getting in trouble but then you remember that you were a full grown woman that kicks monsters asses for a living.

“As in, I don't know. But I think they are still the bunker.” Jack knew to stay put in the safety of the bunker walls.

“You think they are in the bunker? What the hell were you thinking? I called you because I thought you could get the job done. Now you don't know where they are?” Bobby stood up by now and push Dean back. Dean grew quite for the next ten minutes as Sam finish fixing you up. You quickly got up making your way to the room.

“We're not done here Y/N. I thought I could trust you with this. But I was wrong, you still have a lot to learn about protecting people. The first rule is to not let them out of your sight!” He bark at you again. You pause in the middle of the room to challenge him back but you didn't have too. You turn to see that the plan you made with Mary had a successful ending.

“That's enough Dean. She is a hero.” Mary's harsh tone caught the guys attention. Every single person that Dean put you in charge of stood beside Cass in perfect health.

“I did what I was hired to do.” You spat at him with much venom in your voice. You left him open mouth as you return to your room to pack up your stuff.

A half an hour later, you were still laying on your back on your make shift bed. You hadn't pack anything as it just felt good to lay down. Now that everything was back to normal the pain in your side was throbbing. A tug of war was going on in your head. Do you pack up and leave? Or should you at least stay the night and gain the rest you truly deserved?  Oh who were you kidding? Did you want another chance encounter with Dean or not? No, you didn't but your body was on the opposite team. Traitor, You thought to yourself as a light knocking broke your thought.

You didn't realize you had grunt from pain as you sat up on the bed until the door flew open. Sam and Jack appear with concern looks on their face. You gave them your best deer in head light look.

“Are you sure that was the only injury that you got?” Sam face wrinkle. But You could read that he was trying to find an excuse to keep your here. It wasn't fair to him how you took off last time. And though you apology over texts and phone calls it was still hard on him.

“We brought you some pain pills for your wound.” Jack hand you a pill bottle and a can of Y/F can of soda pop. Now you were sure that they were keeping you here seeing how you couldn't drive under these strong meds.

“How did you know this was my favorite?” There hadn't been any soda pop in the house before they left.

Jack bit back a grin as he pass a look to Sam.

“Oh great, you two taught Jack to silent talk now?” Boy it was great to see the boys pulling Jack under wing. You shook your head. Should you take the pills?

“We're not taking no, Y/N” Sam lecture in his towering firm body.  And without thinking you shook the bottle and down three white pills as you swallow the sugary goodness that You let yourself enjoy once in awhile.

“Good, I have so much to talk to you about this case.” Jack beam as Sam pull him back to the door.

“Attack her with your questions at breakfast, Jack.” Sam told the younger male. Sam wish you good night with a sparkle in his eyes that he knew you weren't planning on taking off this time.

The medicine claimed you moments after getting your body under a sheet at least. The beautiful escape in dreaming was one of the few bless you allow yourself. There you could do anything from sunbathing on the beach to going on a major shopping trip with unlimited money. This of course if one knew to conquer one's nightmares. In which you have about 90 percent achieve.

Certain family events and cases still hit you in your nightmares from time to time. But you have confidence that you will one day get over that as well.

Your dream tonight was that you were under a pink umbrella on a poolside of an high-ticket hotel watching a lot of different hot guys roam around talking to the other ladys.

It was nice having everyone ignoring you for a change. As crazy as that sounds but you knew the underline meaning of the dream and you relish in it. Your dream was giving you a peaceful time with no hunting, or chasing down a lead that someone had asked or saving a life. The last part sounded selfish but if no one was getting hunted then no one needed saving.

It was still dark when you woke from the medicine slumber. You stretch easy of the side wound that was down to a dulling pain. At least the burning sting was gone, Your mumble to yourself. After a few minutes of  zoning out to fully wake up, you decided to pack up the weapons seeing how you will make the boys take over if need be. If push comes to shove you will have Sam come to your defense.

The bunker was quiet and barely lit. It was easy on your eyes as your quietly padded into the war room. You swiftly cross the room with your shoes on and jacket and bag in your hand. As your hand touch the doorknob a grunt rose up from behind you. You turn to see two silhouettes sitting in the dark. Your free hand snake around your throat as the medicine had been was still messing with your awareness.

“I told you she would bail before morning.” Dean hoarse voice kill the calmness in the room.

“Is it true? Y/N, are you leaving already?” Jack's broken voice broke the anger in your throat. You  calmly regain yourself as you made your way in front of them.

“Well Jackie, It's true because Dean knows everything about me,” You were looking at Jack but then move to Dean for the next part. You eyes morph into cold, icy ones. You swore that even in the dark that Dean gulp at the look you were giving him. “But wait he doesn't. I'm going to the car to put my weapons away. I'll be back in.” You finish your speech with Jack and a warm smile telling him you weren't going anywhere.

“She lied once, she will do it again.” Dean poke again.

This time without any words you step up to where Dean was sitting. You raise the bag in your hand high in the air then dropped it on one of Dean's legs. He didn't take long for him to cry out in pain as the different kind of metals hit him.

“Damn it Y/N. That hurt.” Dean growled as he rubbed his wounded foot. You didn't feel an ounce of guilt for dropping it on his foot. Even though he was only wearing socks.

“Oooppps I guess I hate it when I lie.” You snapped as you grab it back and headed out the door with a soft click. No point in waking the others because Dean was being Dean.

As anticipate the morning air was chilly as you snuggle on your jacket. You were park away from the bunker hidden between the full green trees. You didn't want to announces to anything that you were there guarding the others. The morning sun had broke into the sky as the light blue sky was riddle with reds and oranges. You took the time to look up and appreciate the view in front of you. It brought you back to the world of what was right and wrong.

You slipped into the bunker this time closing the door with an even softer click before. You turn to see that Jack and  Dean abandon their spot. What surprise you the most was that Sam was now in Dean's spot. He gave you a sheepish look as you took Jack's spot.

“I'm sorry, did we wake you?” Knowing that Dean crying out loud was all on you. You saw the whirlpool in his eyes before he could make up an answer.

“I agree to stay Sam. I wouldn't disappear on you like that...” But you were cut off.

“Oh like you did that night.” You were wrong Dean hadn't withdrawal to his room.

“Man, I'm not the only one who lies so don't you dare put this all on me. Your loves ones are safe just like I swore to you. So just back the Muck off me!” you just off the chair.

Dean was now in front of you cutting you off from the room you were staying. His arms cross over as he pump out his chest at you.

“What are you talking about?” He dare play dumb with you.

“I guess your Honey wasn't too disappoint that I didn't stick around.” He scoff at your words.

“Oh Y/N that's not what that look like.” You flare up now. How was it suppose to look?  You move to get pass him but he continue to block your way. Sam scold him but Dean wasn't listening. His eyes were train on You. You could feel the burning as you avoid his eyes.

“That's a laugh.” You huff out.

“Hey, I'm not the one that walk out on their team now Am I?”

“Your still right on that one, because your the one that pushes everyone until they had their breaking point. Your way or the highway, Right Deano?” You snapped back in a rage of your own.

Without thinking you muster up all your strength and shove Dean in the chest. So much anger and over the past year you upped your weight traning. Dean went sailing back. His butt hit the floor before his back as he was gliding back on the wax floor. He quickly recover from his attack.

“What the hell? I kept your family safe and this is the thanks I get? What did I do wrong?” You demand him to answer you. Dean drop into silence like everyone else had. Which to your surprise had gather in the library. Well there goes waking everyone up, You thought bitingly to yourself.

With everyone's eyes on you were quick to start backing up.

“You didn't do anything wrong except...” Dean anger was cut off by the violent shove you gave him. His voice shaky as if now he really gets why your so angry.

“I can't do this again.” You cut Dean off from answering your questions. You saw the sorrow in his eyes as he stood frozen in his spot. You spun on your feet and bolt back out the door. You could hear Bobby, Mary, and Sam call out for you as Lisa call out to Dean.

You made it to your F/S car without any interruption. You would pull over to a rest stop and cry out the rest of your frustrations. You just need to get away from him again. It was bad enough that you weren't good enough as a lover but now? Now, you weren't good enough protect his family?

What a low blow. You slammed down on all the locks and barricade yourself in the familiarity of your vehicle. The scents of lavender and peaches fill the car still from an old scented air clipper. With one more finally breathe you turn the key. But the engine didn't turn over. What in hell? You moan as you were force to leave your sanctuary. You popped the hood amd began analysing the engine. That's when you notice a spark plug missing.

Winchester, You all but growled when you heard the foot steps quietly up behind you.

With your quick reaction time, you were able to whip out your side arm while using you open door as a cover.

“Whoa, Whoa, it's me Sweetheart! Please don't shoot me.” Dean's hands were out  in the air and he was slightly bent to the ground.

“Give me the plug and I won't.” You didn't lower the gun. Dean face twist with confusion as he lean to take a look under the hood.

“I didn't take it. Damn I wish I was the one to thought of it, if it meant keeping you here.” He smile at his own joke. You place your weapon back in it's hidden spot. You slam the hood down and the driver door shut. Dean straighten up as he watch you move to the trunk.

That's were you retrieve your weapon bag. You could pick up more clothes and assorts later in another town. You slung the bag over your shoulders as you shot a look over to Dean. You then turn on your heels making your way down the long dirt driveway.

“Please, Y/N!” Dean's voice was broken from where he stood. You didn't stop, you shook your head trying to get the doubts of leaving from your head.

“Please, you're right I was trying to push you away. That night you almost died. I watch a demon launch at you and there was nothing I could do because I was tied up. Then later at the bar. You and Tobias, You acted as if you were unfazed by the hunt. I had so much emotion that I couldn't deal with what was burning through my veins.” He call out as you continue on, his voice getting quieter with each step.

But the name Tobias made you stop dead in your tracks. Who the Muck was Tobias? Oh that was the biker you were flirting with at the bar. You spun around to expect him to still be by your car. But he was only a few feet away from you. He must have been whispering to you all this time.

Dean's eyes was rimmed with redness. His hands were shove into the front of his jean pockets. The sun was hitting his face making his green eyes lit up like rare gemstones.

“I didn't go home with him. In fact I never went back to the bar.” Why were you telling him this?

“Honey was a barfly that wouldn't take no for an answer. She saw me scooping you out and decide to intervene. I still can't believe that she found our hotel. I didn't sleep with her either. I actually kick her out the second I got back to the motel.”

Both of you were standing in an awkward silence wondering why you both admit that to each other. A cloud cover the sun darken the look on Dean's face.

“I talk to Mom and Jack. Boy are they smitten by you. You did great back there taking care of them. I'm proud of you.” His words of gratitude surprise you.

“Last night was a different story.” The anger was gone from your voice but you kept the hurt.

Dean brave a small step towards you while he rub the back of his neck.  Once he notice that you weren't backing up he spoke.

“I freak out.” It was a simple answer to the question.

“Yea, no shit. I don't understand why though? Not a hair was harm on your love ones” You pointed out again. A darkness troubled Dean's eyes for a moment.

“I'm sorry your wrong about that one.”

“What does that mean?” You question as you look over everyone in your minds eye. He didn't say anything but pointed down to your gash. Blood has now ruin another one of your shirts.

“I must of rip some stitches when I shove you.” You rise your shirt for a better look. Yep, five busted threads on the corner had let the blood trickle down like a stream. You sigh out of frustration. You lower the shirt back over it as you place your free hand over it. Dean was by your side in a second. He place one of his large hands over yours. The heat was soothing to you.

“That's it, I just should give up wearing white and just stick to reds and blacks. I'm fine.” You choke out your anger but soften your tone when your eyes met Deans.

“Y/N. I was angry about you getting hurt. I thought that if I could trick you into thinking this was a job you would be clear of the danger. I didn't know there was a fourth. And when you said you didn't know where they were. I thought it was because you didn't care.” Tears were blurring your eyes. Dean stroke your cheek as a few tears shed, “Don't worry Mom and Lisa told me everything. I'm impress with the liquid silver.”

“You can't stop me from getting hurt.” You ignore the ping in your heart at Lisa's name. You lift the sleeve of your shirt of to reveal a softball size bruise.

“Did he give you that?!” Dean investigate the yellow now lesion.

“No, I did. Well accidentally as I was trying to exit a hotel bathroom but ended up colliding with the door frame. So you see even I hurt myself.”

“You should come in and let me take a look at that.” he mummer to you. He was so close that you could feel the wind from his words in your ears.  You look toward the bunker knowing that she was still there with her son.

“What about Lisa?” You whisper out. Dean smirk down at you.

“Lisa and I are't together anymore but it still makes them a target. Beside Lisa and I are better friends.” He smirk.

You shot an eyebrow at him. Friends with benefits? Right. But you kept in to yourself. You always want Dean to open up to you and he has. So you shouldn't push your luck. So you let him guide you back to the bunker. Everyone was thankfully in the kitchen as you two made your way to your room. Dean was quick to shut the door behind him. He collect your med kit that you kept in your green bag.

It only took ten minutes to patch you back up in which that time you were growing tired by all the emotional and painful things that had sprung out. You were shifting through your bag to find another shirt to ruin when Dean gave you one of his.

“Don't ruin anymore. Take mine.” You did what he ask without a comment. Which only made Dean face etch with concern. He watch as you took off your shirt, not really caring if he was in the room or not, and snuggled into one of his red flannels.

You stood up from the bed once you were done and headed for the door But you were block by Dean. He place his hands gently on your arms as he gain your attention.

'What is it?” He was giving you the same caring look as before.

Without warning Dean lean down and close the space between you two. He seize your lips with more force then before. You can taste the excitement and longing that he present to you.

“I love you, Y/N. I always have.” Dean whisper into your ear when you broke for a moment. The words sent shivers down your spine. You were at a loss for words as Dean chuckle at your expression.

“What cat got your tongue now?” He tease. He was now the Dean that you first met. You still couldn't find a word so you pull yourself up to met him face to face as you return the kiss he just share with you. You enter a blissfulness make out session with the one and only pain in the ass.

“I love you too, Dean.” You swore any moment you were going to wake up.

Once you freshen up, your were feeling better then before. Dean left you to meet everyone in the kitchen. You follow him shortly after that. Everyone was in high spirits except for Jack who was staring sadly at his cereal.

“Something the matter Jacky?” You question as you grabbed a banana from Sam side of the fridge. You found an empty spot next to the trouble teen. Whatever had him in knots made it a hard time to look you in the eyes.

The room grew quite even though there were a lot of smirking going on. Jack finally collect himself as Your eyes drift back over to his.

“I'm sorry, Y/N it was me who stole your spark plug.” he openly admitted boldly. You blink a few time taken back by his guilty eaten secret.

“Oh, Ok. How long have you work on cars, Jack?” You question the boy as your eyes drift over to Dean, a sly smile tug on his lips.

“Oh he start teaching me, last night. He said it would be good for an emergency.” Jack smile proudly at what he learn in just one night.

“Well no harm, no foal. But could I get the plug back please, Jack.”

“Yes. It's in Dean coat pocket.” He answer nonchalantly because poor, poor Jack had a lot to learn about the Winchester life style. The family burst out with laughter leaving a clueless Jack behind.

“Seriously?” You toss at Dean.

“I didn't lie. Jack took it but I was keeping it safe.” he cross the kitchen to scoop you into a hug. Dean place a kiss on your lips without any hesitation.

Your cheek grow warm as you didn't expect him to kiss you in front of anyone. The stares alone wanted to make you flee. Inside you punch him in the arm.

“Not in front of the children.” You manage to croak out.

“Wait, now I'm confuse. Sam are they together or not?” Jack spoke up as now it was his turn to speak.

“Well what I meant before....uhh....was...that Y/N and Dean....” But Sam was rescue by Dean.

“She's mine!”

Thanks for ready kittens and ten points for anyone of you that can name the California family that is actually another tv show! Stay tune for a SP Crossover with the mystery show!

Love ya kittens!

#dean wichester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #i don't write fanfic i right episodes

[mlovesstories]

Adopting An Angel 9

Summary:  YN gets to have some fun, but it may come at a cost.

Word Count <1800

Jensen, Danneel, YN, Jared

AN- I thought we needed some fluff. 

Release 7/17

“Hey, YN!”  Jensen facetimed his foster daughter.

“Hi, Jensen,” she grinned. “What do you need this time, huh?”

“WHAT?  What makes you think I need something?” He was very offended, jokingly.

“Because it’s midnight.” 

“I have a question, and you can totally say ‘no’.  I won’t be offended.”

“Okay then, no,”  she waited a beat with a serious face holding back laughter.

“Wait, what?  I haven’t even said anything!”

“I’m just kidding.  Go on,” she urged him to continue.

“You have Friday and Monday off, right?”

“Yes, sir.  Friday is a teacher work day, and Monday is a holiday. Why?”  Now YN was curious.

“We have a convention in Chicago.  Do you want to meet Jared and I there?”

“REALLY?  Wait.  Have you talked to the boss about this?” She couldn’t keep her giggles at bay this time.

“Dee is so not the boss.”

“She totally is, and you know it!”  YN teased.

“Okay, whatever, sassy.  Yes, we talked about it, and she’s fine with it.  Have you flown before?”

“I did one time, but it was when I was little.”

“Does flying scare you?”

“No, not really,” YN responded. “I’ve seen you do it enough, I think I’ll be okay.”

Oh, thank you, Lord. 

“Dee can go with you through security, but you’ll be traveling by yourself.  Is that okay?  Dee can take you to your gate.  All you have to do is board the plane. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, Jensen.  I can’t wait.”

“I’m sending you a package some AKF shirts so that you can wear the to the con.  We can even take another photo-op picture together again!”

“Jensen-”

“Yes?”

“The J2 photo is like five hundred dollars.  I can’t afford that.”

She thinks she has to pay. That didn’t even cross my mind. 

“You don’t have to pay, silly.  You’ll be on the VIP list.  No worries, YN.”

“Oh, wow,” she smiled.  “I’d love to do that.  I’d also love to get some sleep before school in the morning.  So if you don’t mind…”

“Right!  Forgot, sorry.  Good night, YN.  See you this weekend.”

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

___________

YN beamed as she walked down the stairs the next morning.  

“I take it he told you?” Danneel gave a sarcastic laugh.

“About the con?  Yes.  And he decided to facetime me at midnight.  I am very tired.”

“Why in the world did he do that?  He knows you have school.” 

“He forgot what time it was.  Weird shooting schedule yesterday, I guess.  Anyway, I can’t wait!  I get access to everything!”

“Awesome.  I’m sure you’ll have fun.  I gotta get you to school while Grandma is here to watch the babies.  You almost ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” YN smiled.

_______________

“The package!”  YN said under her breath. 

YN text to Jensen:

Got the package.  

Jensen:

You’re awesome.

YN:

Very funny, Dean Winchester.

Jensen:

Confetti, it’s a parade!

YN:

I lost my shoe

Jensen:

Can I shoot her?  

YN:

Not in public.

Jensen:

I killed Hitler.

YN:

I hope your apple pie was freakin’ worth it!

Jensen:

I’ll man the flashlight.

YN:

Fight the fairies.

Jensen:

Are you drunk? (You better not be. Ever!)

YN:

You’re bossy and short.  

I could do this all day, Winchester. I’m putting my phone on silent so I can study.  We’ll battle later, squirrel.

Jensen:

I’m not short!  Fine!  You’re no fun! (See you tomorrow.)

____________

“Hey, sweetheart!  How are you?”  Jensen gave YN a hug when he met her by baggage claim.

“Hi, boys.  I’m good.”

“How was your flight?  You do okay?”  Jensen looked at her expectantly.

“Yes.  The landing was kinda scary though,” she said, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Jared called for her to look at him, “nobody likes the landing, darlin’.  Don’t you worry.  You ready to get out of here?”

“Let’s do this.” 

As they left the airport, a few fans of the show saw the trio and asked for a picture.  YN stood off to the side.

“You okay?  I know that must be weird for you.”

“Yes, I’m okay.  Can we go now?”

This is different.  He’s my foster parent. Jensen is just a guy.  I forgot he was famous.  Stupid YN.  What did you expect?  And we haven’t even gotten to the convention yet.  Great.  

“Earth to YN!”  Jared elbowed her in the van on the way to the hotel.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized as she tried to cover up her worries with a smile.

________

The next day the fun started.  At least for YN.  Jensen and Jared rested so that they could attend the Saturday Night Special.  YN was very excited to explore all of the vendors and see a few of the panels, but there was a catch.  She had to have Clif near her for Jensen’s peace of mind.  Jensen knew this was a different experience for her.  Since he wasn’t going with her, he assigned Clif to watch over her.  

YN was able to meet all of the panelists and Louden Swain.  She couldn’t control her happiness.  There were a few times that she got carried away, almost leaving Clif behind.

“Hey!  YN!”  She heard Clif yell for her.  YN turned around.

“Yes?”

“Slow down.  I need to see you at all times.  I don’t want to deal with a moody Jensen because I lost his kid.  Got it?”

She heard whispers.

“Jensen has another kid?” 

“She’s a teenager.  Maybe she’s from an earlier relationship.”

“How come she’s been hidden?” 

“Who is her mom?” 

“Clif, take me to my room.  Now.  Get me out of here,”  YN spoke quickly.  

“Okay, YN.  Let’s go.”  He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to Jensen’s room.

Jensen was surprised to see her back in the hotel room so quickly.

“What happened?” He knew something was wrong.  She was in a daze.  YN couldn’t process what had occured.

I can’t do this.  The fans will hate me.  Or hate the Ackles’.  I need to leave. 

YN stood up from a chair she had just planted herself in and started to walk out, face glazed over.  Jensen saw this and motioned for Clif to stop her since he closest to the door. Without speaking to her, Clif spun her around and walked her back to her bed where he position her to sit down.  

“I told her not to get too far ahead of me because ‘moody Jensen would be mad if I lost his kid’, but some fans heard me.  They started making comments, so she asked to come back here. I’m so sorry, Jay.  I should have-”

“Don’t worry, they would have seen you with her and wondered what was up anyway.”  Jensen turned to YN.  “I’m so sorry, YN.  I know this must be a lot for you-” Jensen started.

“Can I take a nap before SNS, please?  I can’t do this right now,” she tried to dismiss the conversation.

“Sure,” Jensen responded.  “Thanks, Clif.  I got it from here.”

After he made his exit, Jensen looked over at YN.

“Hey, YN.”  He waited for an answer, but he didn’t get one. She was completely spaced out. Instead of pushing her to respond, he stood up from his bed and walked over to hers.  She didn’t register that he was even trying to interact with her. Jensen took her by the shoulders and brought her to her feet.  When she was standing, he pulled the blankets back, had her sit back down, and untied her shoes.  “Don’t worry.  I got you.  Go to sleep.  We’ll deal with it later.”

____________

As YN woke up, she heard Jensen on the phone.

“... she’s practically a robot.  You should have seen the way she reacted.  Not the same kid… Yeah, I know.  Maybe we should have waited.  I mean, we can’t say anything to the fans, really.  She isn’t adopted.  We’d get in trouble with the state if we did say something. Yeah, okay.  I will. Love you.”

Danneel. 

YN rolled over toward Jensen’s voice.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said calmly with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Do you remember what happened?”  He knew this could go a few ways.

“Yes, sir.  I’m not yours.  It’s okay,” she stated with a groggy voice.  He walked over to her and took her hands in his. 

“Baby, you are ours.  It’s just that we can’t announce it. Legally you still are a ward of the state.  Look, if they ask about you at the panel, which they probably will, I’ll tell them that you are hanging out with us this weekend.  I would shout it from the rooftops that you are a part of our family, but legally I can’t.  Please understand that.”

“I know,” she shrugged, “but it still stinks.  I didn’t think this would happen.  Like ever.  You’re just a dude to me.  You aren’t ‘Jensen Ackles’.”

“Hopefully a cool dude,” he smirked.

“Anything but,” YN laughed loudly.

“HEY!”

“I’m kidding!”

—————-

Jensen knew that the fans would bring up the fact that YN was traveling with the boys. He was aware that some fans had seen him with her out at dinner and walking around.

“No to be too personal, but who is the girl that has been hanging with the two of you? Is she-?”

“She is a huge fan of the show.  She is a friend of the Padackles, so Jensen and I are treating her to a weekend of all-access fun. Please show her our SPN Family Values. Next question!” Jared was able to put their questions at bay to protect his sweet friend. Jensen was thankful. He knew Jared addressing it directly helped calm the waters a little bit.

Jensen whispered, “Thanks, buddy.”

“No problem,” Jared responded. “Go check on her backstage, I’ll stall,” he smiled.

Jensen wanted to reaffirm YN of her place in their lives. Yes, she was more familial, but they couldn’t say that. When he got backstage, she smiled.  

“How was that? Jared do okay?” Jensen was happy that she didn’t seem put off by Jared’s explanation.

“It was perfect, thank you,” she walked into his arms. “Go back out there! Tell Jared ‘thanks’ too.”

“I love you, YN. I mean it.”

“I know. Now go!”

Forever Friends:

.@katymacsupernatural  .@unicornblood4ever  .@ellie-andthemachine .@fangirl-moment-x  .@empirialwolf .@winchesters-favorite-girl  .@super100012  .@waywardnewcomer  .@percywinchester27  .@waywardsuns  .@supernatural-jackles  .@mcallmestiles .@mandyreese .@sdavid09  .@kingandrear  .@bellero @sleepylunarwolf

@rosie-winchester​​ @iliketowrite02​​​  @seality​​​​ @blogsnowflakeme​​ @jaycc7983​​ @luci-in-trenchcoats​​ @cherryblossom1997​ @because-you-never-know-when @lauren-novak @justsomerandomarchangel

Adopting An Angel Loves:

@fictional-characters-rule​

@internationalmusicteacher​ @deansgirl215

.@dramoine-winchester-mccall @vidashellymariae

Read more!

Masterlist of Masterlists

Adopting An Angel Masterlist

#supernatural #supernatural rpf #jensen ackles #danneel ackles #Jensen x daughter!reader #danneel and jensen #danneel x daughter!reader #jared padalecki #jared x niece!reader

[lexiecarver]

Fine, I Like You. Now What?

Prompt: Imagine your friend Charlie setting you up on a date with Crowley because she knows you have the hots for him. At first, you and Crowley refuse to admit the attraction to each other but that quickly changes.

Paring: Crowley x Reader, Reader x Charlie (friendship, mentioned)

Word Count: 1,591

Warning: None

This was a hard prompt. I hope I did it justice.

It’s been a year since you meet Charlie. She was on a “hunt” her words, not yours. Apparently, your new beau at the time was just trying to kill you, chop you into pieces and then eat you. Definitely not fifth date material to be sure. Charlie came along just in time to save the day and since that day you’ve been besties.

You looked up to her, a smart intelligent strong woman standing on her own two feet in the scary world of monsters. You wished you could be that badass. Give it time. She even taught you a few things. You can proudly say that you now know to hack. Of course, you wouldn’t want to shout that fact from the rooftops - jail and all.

You even met with the Winchesters. They were a big deal in the hunting community apparently, super handsome but not the kind of life you’d necessarily want to live or put up with as the girlfriend. You actually helped them both several times with research. Go you, right? You also met the King of Hell - major baddie, kind of an ass, hella sarcastic, also kinda cute and charming if you’re into that.

Today was a girl’s night. Charlie came over to hang out, watch movies, eat pizza, geek out etc. Midway through the munchies, she suggested that you go on a blind date. She was sure you’d like the guy. You groaned. I mean who likes blind dates? They never go well! It was always better to find your own guy but where? You needed a new guy, you were starting to feel lonely and even worse, you’d look at couples and wish they’d die. So yeah the whole single thing was getting to you. You agreed to the blind date and stuffed your face with delicious pizza and homemade popcorn which is the perfect way to drown out everything else.

It was show time for your date. You left the house wearing your favorite dress, the one that showed off all your curves and highlighted your best asset, your legs. You wore your “good luck” boots and had a natural makeup moment going on. You were pretty in your own right and didn’t need tons of makeup to sell it. You even put your gorgeous dangling pearl earrings on. You smiled in the mirror before you left. You closed the door arriving there a bit early. Why did you agree to this again? Oh yeah desperate, right. Charlie knew you were worried and sent you texts throughout the night stopping only when you reached the restaurant.

“You’re awesome.”

“He’s gonna love the dress. OMG girl!”

“You look like an awesome confident woman.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Just trust me and go with it.”

That was the last one she sent and boy did it worry you. Trust her? Oh god, who were you meeting?

You went up to the hostess and almost whispered. You were way too nervous to speak at a normal volume.

“I’m waiting for someone…uh… on a blind date.” The hostess giggled.

“I knew he was with someone.”

Ok so he’s handsome, you thought. Handsome enough that she noticed and giggled. Hmm…

“Follow me sugar.”

You gulped as she lead you to the table all the way in the back away from the other patrons. Ok, privacy is good, right? She placed the menus on the table and smiled at you both before leaving. Your heart stopped when you saw it was Crowley. Really Charlie? Crowley. What the hell? No pun intended. What was Charlie thinking? I mean yes he was hot, duh. That was a given but the King of Hell. Would you even survive sex with the King of Hell? I mean he’s gotta be into kinky stuff. Runaway brain. Shit. Ok. Just sit down, talk a little, eat something and then get out of there before you do something stupid. I should have worn something ugly.”

Crowley was also having a bit for a hard time. The moment he saw you he fought to keep his expression bland. He thought you were interesting before, even intriguing but in that dress, in that outfit, wow! Now he wanted you.

“Well, this is a surprise, hello Crowley.”

“It really is. Hello, y/n. Charlie was the one that set that up? Remind me again who Charlie is?”

“The fiery red-headed lesbian hunter computer genius?”

“Ah yes, that one?”

“You know another Charlie?“

Crowley smirked.

You both looked at the menus doing the awkward eye dance where you looked at Crowley and then suddenly looked away focusing on your menu whenever you caught him looking back. You held your menu higher so he couldn’t see you at all and almost whispered your order when the waitress comes back. She raised her eyebrows at both of you. Both of you were completely silent making a point not to stare or even look at each other. When the food came, Crowley was the first to break the silence.

“You don’t have to be afraid-.”

“I’m not afraid. I just don’t like you so it’s awkward. Besides we have nothing to talk about. What, you want me to ask about hell?”

“You don’t like me, I’m offended.”

“Oooh, a non-hunter offended the King of Hell I should get a medal.”

“Feeling pretty good about yourself?”

“Yep. Besides you don’t like me either.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh please. I’m not a hunter, nor am I Buffy or a computer genius,  I’m just a plain human. How uninteresting so let’s just get through this dinner.”

That comment really got to him. He struggled to keep his anger at bay. He was a chore for her! How dare she!

“Get through dinner. I’m a King, y/n I don’t get through dinner! I don’t need to be with-.”

“Wow, righteous indignation from the King of Hell. Calm down we were talking almost pleasantly. No need to start killing and freaking out. If it helps I withdraw the previous statement.”

“Did you mean it?”

You say nothing and continue eating. Crowley’s face pales and he looks dejected and nervous. He feels insulted and normally he would just kill anyone who would have even dared to suggest that. He knew for a fact that you were lying. Damn it he did have feelings for you. Maybe this was why you said it? Is Y/N trying to manipulate me? To what end? he pondered. He was furious at what you said and wanted payback. He would make you admit your feelings by the end of dinner damn it or he was going to kill someone!

“Hell’s good thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t really but good to know that the torturing of souls is going well. Hate for that to be all out of whack.”

“And you’re the champion of goodness.”

“Well, at least I don’t kill and torture people. “

“What do you do?”

“Don’t feign interest. It doesn’t matter. I hate when people ask about jobs as if defines the person. Who cares what I do.”

“If you hate it so much why not quit.”

“Have you ever tried looking for a job? Filling out resumes? I’d rather cut my eyes out and burn myself alive.”

“That pleasant.”

“Seriously try it sometimes. The King of Hell applying for a job. Hilarious.”

They continued eating in silence for a bit.

“How did you meet Charlie?”

“My last boyfriend tried to eat me in a nutshell. I just have bad luck with men, I’m always attracted to the wrong ones.”

Crowley raised his eyebrow

“Pompous much. You think I meant you?”

“You know dear, you are quite good at sarcasm.”

“Thank you. My first compliment of the night. Yes, I pride myself on my sarcasm.”

“You look amazing in that dress.”

“And so the night shifts. I wasn’t fishing for compliments but thanks.”

“You always like this on dates?”

“What? You mean on the defensive from a guy that can kill you with one snap of his fingers? Why no, usually the men I date are human. So this is all for you.”

“Why would I want to kill you?”

“You’re evil? It’s fun? I make you angry one day? Didn’t I already actually? This you and I, what you’re trying to start may be a death sentence for me. You have tons of enemies and I hear not all your demons are loyal. This starts and I have a bullseye on my back.”

“I would never harm you y/n. I do have a temper, but I’ve never killed a woman over it. Well, one that betrayed me.”

“Not inspiring confidence.”

“As for everyone else. I will personally see to it you are not harmed. I can ask my most loyal demons to watch you.”

“Like a demonic bodyguard?”

“Exactly.”

“He better be looking and not touching.”

“He wouldn’t dare touch you.”

That smoldering look in his eyes. Shit that was sexy. Mmmmm. Damn you resolve. Why did he have to be so fucking handsome? Yeah ok, so maybe you liked him so what?

“Someone really likes me. Good luck boots save the day.”

Crowley smiles.

“They are great boots.”

“What makes you think I even like you?”

“Oh come now, dear. I know how you feel. I read your mind when you came in.”

“What? Complete invasion-.”

Crowley reached across the table and kissed you passionately.

“Worth it?” he asked

“Read my mind and see.”

You smiled and winked at him

“Check.”

#crowley #crowley fanfic #crowley fanfiction #crowley angst #crowley fluff

[katymacsupernatural]

Hotel California Chapter 16: Hurt

Dean Winchester x Reader

1500 Words

Story Summary:After an unfortunate incident at work, you take a couple of days for yourself, planning on staying at the nice restaurant at the edge of town. There you meet a handsome green eyed man who comes to your rescue when you’re visited by a ghost.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

You stood there, dripping wet, shivering as you wondered what to do next. You could pretend you hadn't heard anything, acting as if everything was okay. Just to spend your last few moments with him before he left you behind with the trash.

But in your heart you knew you couldn't do that. No matter how much you wanted to pretend everything was okay, you sucked at acting. You knew the moment you went back out into that room, you would look at Dean, and he would notice something was wrong.

Not knowing what to do, you sniffed back the tears, hoping things would look a little better once you were dressed, with make up being your armor.

You ruffled through your bag, finally settling on a simple, but classic summer dress you had packed. You weren't usually the type of girl to pick dresses over jeans. But you wanted to look your best, to make Dean see what he was tossing away. It was pure white, something you tried to stay away from, due to your somewhat clumsy nature. But your Mom had forced you to pack this one, saying the white went wonderfully with your skin tone. It had slender straps above a sweetheart bodice, that flowed down to just above your knees. You had to admit it was beautiful, and it gave you a sense of confidence you were currently missing.

You fluffed your hair out, letting it dry in waves across your shoulders, before applying some make up to hide the fact that you had been crying. Glancing into the mirror, it seemed like a stranger was staring back at you. Gone was the every day simple girl who dressed in ripped jeans and t-shirts. In her place was a broken woman, a woman trying to hide behind her appearance. You didn't like it, but you weren't sure what else to do.

"Y/N, are you ever going to leave there? Your breakfast is getting cold!" Dean yelled from the other side of the door.

"Coming!" You yelled back, amazed at how calm and collected your voice sounded. Because inside you felt as if you were shaking. As you had dressed, you had come up with a plan, a plan that had you shaking in your boots.

Grabbing your bag, you took a deep breath before opening the door. Stepping out, you dropped it near the door, before turning back towards the main part of the room. You could feel eyes on you, and raising your own you saw all three men staring at you. It was the gaze of one man in particular that you wanted. Dean was glancing up and down your body, his look hungry, as if he hadn't eaten in days and you were a nice slice of pie. His gaze powered your bravado, and you strutted towards him, your dress floating smoothly around your body.

"Wow Y/N, you look amazing," Sam complimented you, earning a glare from his brother.

"Thanks Sam," you replied, before leaning forward and taking your coffee from his hands.

"Any special reason you're all dolled up?" Dean asked you, stepping closer, his tongue unconsciously slipping out and licking his bottom lip. You followed the movement, your throat drying up.

"This thing? It was just one of the last things in my suitcase," you told him, which was partly true. You walked around him, perching on one of the chairs before grabbing a bagel from the container.

Sam looked between you and Dean multiple times, a smile slowly growing on his face. "Listen Dean, Cas and I need to head downstairs for a minute. Check something out."

"We do?" Cas asked, not getting Sam's rather obvious hints.

"Come on,"  Sam ordered Cas, pulling him from the room. You chuckled as the guys left, amazed at how socially awkward Cas was.

"What are you laughing at?" Dean asked you, still standing in the same spot. It seemed like your outfit and demeanor had thrown him off of his game, and he wasn't sure what to do next.

"Your friend Cas. He seems like an interesting guy to be around," you told him, as he finally moved and came to sit in the chair next to you. Both of you took a sip of your coffees, the silence more than a little unnerving.

"So about that," Dean started, as he set his coffee down, and your heart immediately seized. Here it was. "I've been wondering. Where do you see this going?"

It hadn't been how you expected this conversation to start, but at least he was giving you a chance to speak for yourself. "I haven't thought about it too much. I just woke up for crying out loud. But I do know I've enjoyed my time with you, learning to hunt. If you would let me, I would like to do more, to learn more. To be close to you," you said, your heart shining in your eyes, hoping he could see how much you meant it.

He sighed, looking down at his hands, and your heart sank. "I was afraid you would say that. I didn't want to have to break it to you like this Y/N, " he started. "But, I don't think that would work."

"Why not?" You argued, wanting him to see you would work hard for it.

"Because you are weak, and you would only get in our way. It would take forever to train you," He argued, and you sat up straighter, his words digging deep.

"Fine, then I'll stay behind, doing research while you guys do the grunt work. I'm good at research," you pleaded, clenching your hands together when he shook his head.

"No. I just think it would be better, for everyone involved, if we just end it right now. It was fun while it lasted, but it didn't mean anything."

"What?? You can't mean that," You answered, but his words earlier came back to haunt you.

"I do. It was fun, and I'm sorry you were hurt, but you're better now. So why don't we say our goodbyes, and you can head back to your regular life."

You stood up, trying hard not to start crying again, the last of your resolve breaking. "Dean, are you doing this to protect me?" You asked him, staring hard at his face, checking for any signs that he was lying. That this was hurting him just as bad as it was hurting you. But he sat there calmly, staring at you.

"No. I wish I was. But in all reality, I'm done with you. I've grown bored, and I'm ready to move on,"  He told you, and that's when you had enough. Tears pouring down your cheeks, you turned grabbing your suitcase and your purse, heading towards the door.

Turning one last time, you saw Dean sitting there, watching you as you left. "I'm sorry Dean. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you. Guess I will never be good enough for anyone." You told him, before shutting the door behind you. Through your tears you missed the look of pain cross his face, or the way his hand clenched his paper coffee cup hard enough that it crushed under the pressure.

You tried to calm your breathing, tried to keep your tears at bay as you made your way down the stairs and into the main lobby. You didn't need to check out, they had already done that for you. You guessed Dean had been ready to get rid of you a long time ago.

You were so lost in your pain, in your suffering, that it took Sam yelling your name multiple times before it finally registered.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" He asked you, grabbing your shoulders to stop you. "Is Dean okay?"

"Dean's just peachy," you muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to leave."

Sam's face turned into one of frustration and annoyance. "Damn it Dean. I was hoping he wouldn't go through with it."

Hiccuping through your tears, you shrugged." Well, he did. It was nice knowing you Sam. I think we would have made really good friends." You told him, standing on tip toes to give him a hug. He hugged you back, tightly, and you relished in the touch for a moment.

"You have our numbers?" He asked you, and you nodded. "Don't hesitate to call, for anything. Promise me."

You promised, grabbing your suitcase, once again making your way to the revolving doors, not ready to leave the new life you had made. Not ready to go back to the one you wanted to forget.

Dean/Jensen Tags:@acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @colette2537 @crusadedean @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @msimpala67 @lenaabs @love-charmer-sketch @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thesaneone @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Hotel California Tags:@abbessolute @brentismeiamhe @catchingshadows-blog @classy-sassyandsmartassy @deansgirl215 @dramaqueenrolf @earthtokace @feelmyroarrrr @fullmetalavatar54 @georgialouisea @helpmeyouassbutt @iamabeautifulperson18 @imma-winchester-addict @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @kbl1313 @lessons-of-red @mina22 @musicistobeheard-blog @myloveforyouxx  @nevaeh-potter15 @obsessivecompulsivespn @peaceloveancolor @pilaxia @rhapsody-in-flannel @rosie21395000 @sizzlingbearpolice @spnfangirl1965 @sunskittlex @superwholock1983 @tmccarney @tjwinchester @walkerbex98 @wolfmoon8269 @yes-this-is-doggo

Forever Tags: @16wiishes @4401lnc @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @brooke-supernatural16  @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @createdbybadappreciation @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @dontslurp @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @my-squirrel-and-moose @nanie5 @newtospnfandom @oneshoeshort​ @percussiongirl2017​ @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25​ @rosegoldquintis​ @roxyspearing​ @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @spnbaby-67 @sunskittlex @superbadassnatural @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @thebikiniinspector @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tmccarney @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#hotel california #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean #dean winchester #supernatural

[amwritingmeta]

13x04: What’s the Deal with Catharsis?

This isn’t funny anymore. I am not okay. I’m in a state of needing to do laps around my room (and the room is roomy enough to be comfy) (but roomy enough for doing laps in it ain’t). All this excess energy is making me sweat even when I sit still!! (I exaggerate) But Jesus Mary and Joseph the writers and cast and crew and the whole shebang and shindig is giving us... SO MUCH. *everything* 

So, here’s the recipe for Deconstructing Dean: 

You take Dean Winchester, you make him slam all his walls back in place and you drain him of the want to feel anything, because the pain is too much to handle, so if he feels it, he knows it’ll fucking break him, right? 

Now for the most crucial part: you make him act the part of his father and you make him latch onto that persona, one that he’s cultivated within himself in order to be the good son, the responsible big brother, the dutiful soldier, the hero. Only this time you make this persona into what it really is without the warmth and hope and love that is at the heart of Dean Winchester: you make it a shell. You make it obvious that this persona is based in the lie Dean has always told himself of who he needs to be in order to cope, in order to be strong, to carry all this weight placed on his shoulders from too young an age. 

And Dean himself doesn’t even believe in this lie anymore: 

Refusing to listen to Miriam’s tirades and his comment of “I’m just a guy doing a job” in 13x01 began to deliver a sense of maturity, of Dean truly on the cusp of growing the fuck up

In 13x02 this was pushed further with Jack’s line: Pain is part of the complete human experience. Accepting it is a sign of maturity.

In 13x03, Dean’s actual aversion to his toxic masculinity and his need to address it and reject it was highlighted through every plot line in that episode being rooted in Dean’s self-examination and what he needs to understand: no one can tell you who you are - you choose who to be. (choice and identity) (like wow)

By 13x04 it’s clear to this meta writer exactly how much Dean knows his performance is a shell, but there’s no way he can let go of it. It’s his safety net now, keeping all the feelings at bay. Feelings are weaknesses, his performance says, and shuts them all out

Save one, of course, and that’s the anger

How is it highlighted to us that he knows the performance is a shell? 

--> By him asking Sammy to keep the faith for the both of them. 

Dean’s aware of what he’s doing, he’s so aware of shutting everyone out, and he knows, deep down, that it isn’t him, that he wants to believe they can save Mary because he can see that there’s a chance, but right now... all faith has drained from him because the root of his hope for the future has been taken away. (yes of course that’s Cas)

How else can we ascertain that Dean, deep down, wants to mature?

Well, how about -->

Sam: He was really into the whole catharsis thing. Dean: Yeah, sure, who wouldn’t be, if it’s like another word for happy ending?

Now, they really, really could’ve written this line in a way that didn’t imply that Dean is actually saying what? He is saying that he can understand why Wes was into the whole catharsis thing when catharsis was another word for happy ending. Meaning Dean can understand why someone would want to work on themselves on the basis of getting their happy ending. MEANING DEAN WINCHESTER WANTS A HAPPY ENDING. He still wants that long and happy life, he just doesn’t see it anymore for REASONS.

FFS. (FOR FUCK’S SAKE)

And for someone who abjectly dismisses the idea of therapy as bullcrap and thinks the whole thing is like snake oil for the mind...

Okay, so, I know Dean is anti-everything here. I get it. He is demonstrating how little faith he has in this brain-scrambling, emotion-combing time waster of an endeavour, right? But I just want to look a tiny bit closer at this specific moment in this scene.

Because look at Dean’s body language --> it’s completely open. 

Jensen is formidable in using body language and those famed micro-expressions to tell us tons about Dean. That’s because he’s a formidable actor and using body language and micro-expressions is part of his job. Human communication is more than 50% based in body language, so to say that this tool for subtext doesn’t matter to the story, that the visual narrative is a layer that can be dismissed as unimportant, is mildly insane. Just in case anyone ever says that. (I bid you stop it) (not to be bossy) (just please seriously)

Also, look at Jared sat at the edge of that sofa, Dean taking up space, spreading himself out like an alpha male. Sam looks more defensive than Dean here, and considering where this scene is headed, there’s no wonder. What’s so subtle about this, though, is that by the end of the episode we’ll get a small catharsis from Dean, where he puts words to how he’s feeling, answering the question from Sam that opens the entire episode, so Dean’s open body language towards Sam here can also be seen as foreshadowing of that, that he’s open wide to the fact that Sam is actually right. *slow eyebrow raise*

And then there’s how Dean asks his question:

Mom was great, now she’s dead-->

--> Dismissive to a fault, because Dean’s grief truly is not tied to Mary, because deep down Dean can see the worth in Sam’s belief that they can get her back, underneath all that pain there is still a glimmer of hope.

What’s the deal with catharsis?-->

--> Yeah, exactly - Dean throws this out there and does so immediately. Again, it of course has to do with his attitude towards therapy in general, it’s to do with the anger masking his pain, but it’s also a defence mechanism, because he isn’t ready to be open, no matter how much he subconsciously wants to be, or feels he needs to be. Asking this question here just underlines this already hinted at need, because deep down Dean wants to believe there’s something that can somehow lead him to a happy ending, he wants to know what the deal with catharsis is for himself, because he wants to have faith in the future again. He just can’t right now, because his future burned on a pyre not very long ago. 

I mean the GROWING PAINS of it all! Dean Winchester is maturing into an adult before our very eyes and it makes me so fucking happy for him!! And what does that small moment at the end of the episode, the moment of very very tentative catharsis (hopefully leading to a properly significant moment in 13x05) still give him? That one tiny line of dialogue where he admits to Sam how Sam’s been right in calling him out on his behaviour and how he doesn’t want to be like this forever, it’s just for now, because right now he doesn’t believe in a damn thing.

It gets him this -->

*fffflllaaaiiilll*

#spn 13x04 meta #dean winchester #sam winchester #cas #destiel #spn therapy #grieving!Dean #Dean Winchester deconstruction #meredith glynn

[angelkurenai]

Imagine your neighbor, Dean Winchester, implying there are more things he can to you than the boy you had over a few days ago. And going into detail.

Related to these: Imagine your neighbor, Dean Winchester, getting jealous when he sees a guy leave your house in the morning when your parents are gone on a trip.

Imagine changing in your room while your neighbor, Dean Winchester, is watching from his own window.

“(Y/n)? Hey!” you were greeted with that breath-taking smile once the door opened.

“Hey, hope I am not interrupting?”

“You? No, never of course.” he chuckled “Come on in, kid.”

“I just- I was a little bored and a lot more hungry and-” you laughed awkwardly “So I made some pie and just... here.” you decided to hand him the plate.

“Are you trying to corrupt me, missy?” he asked with a smirk although it was completely the other way round.

“Wh-what? No, no absolutely not, Mr Winchester. I just-”

“Relax, (Y/n).” his chuckle cut you off “I am just kidding, don't worry your secret's safe with me. No words are coming outta my mouth.” he winked and a small sigh of relief left your lips.

“Thank you, a lot.”

“No need, I wasn't going to in the first place. You say nothing happened, I believe you. Now come on, let me offer you something to drink, yeah?” his words made you relax a little as you followed him inside the house to the kitchen.

“Oooh love me some pie.” he said in a deep voice and a small giggle left your lips “My gosh!” he moaned deeply as he grabbed a piece with his hand and ate some of it “That's what I call a good orgasm, thanks (Y/n)!” he licked his lips, nodding his head approvingly.

You laughed softly “No problem, I guess.”

“Oh hell yeah!” he gave you a childlike grin “I mean I've neve- oh, is that whiped cream?” he raised an interested eyebrow.

“Yep, homemade too.” you said proudly as he dipped his finger in it and then in his mouth. Boy you tried so hard not to get distracted.

“Really?” his eyebrows shot up “Wow if you were a little older we'd really get a fun situation and put these incredible skills of yours to good use, princess.” he chuckled and you tried to keep yourself from biting your lip and letting your mind wander to thought you shouldn't be having.

Fun situation? Oh you were interested to know what he could consider fun with you and wiped cream in it.

“Alright- I probably should have not said that out loud.” he mumbled to himself before shaking his head and licking his two fingers “What would you like to drink, princess?”

“Wha- oh uh a coffee would be great.” you offered him a soft smile, taking a seat on one of the chairs; clearing your throat because of how strained and squeaky your voice came out.

“Gotcha” he nodded his head, starting to prepare your coffee “Let's see if I remember it correctly otherwise... just old age, I might be forgetting a few things.” he said playfully but you shook your head.

“You're not old, Mr Winchester.”

“Glad to know you think so, (Y/n), but we both know the truth. I'm not as young as I used to be ten years ago.” he shrugged.

“I don't care, for me you are as old as you feel.”

“Then the boy you had over last night must feel like he's five huh? Seriously, what were you even doing with someone like him (Y/n/n)?” he leaned against the kitchen counter, putting his hands in his pockets.

“First, I really mean it when I said it was mostly about homework. And second; he's just a friend, that's all.” you shrugged.

“Yeah a friend, if you wanna call it. But you could see it crystal clear, he was eye-fucking you.” he said matter-of-factly.

“Well, that was the point.” you muttered to yourself “But nothing happened so you don't have to worry Mr Winchester.” you cleared your throat, saying a little more loudly.

By all means, he could never compare to Dean freaking Winchester but your gorgeous neighbor could only see you as the young girl next door even if you would be twenty years old in a few months. To him you were just a kid, he loved hanging out with you and talking, maybe flirting too, but he never seemed to show real interest in you. Just when you thought he'd make a move he'd made a full turn and either mention your parents or talk about his own age. Someone would say he would try to act like a father figure. So what other choice did you have but to try and forget him with someone else?

“You don't need some idiot like him, (Y/n).” his voice brought you back to reality “You're much better than that.” he said so honestly it actually made your heart skip a beat “I seriously am surprised how you'd even give him a second glance, not to mention want to be with him.”

“Why are you saying this?” you whispered and he gave you a soft smile.

“You're way out of his league, sweetheart, way above his or any other guy's pay grade. You don't even begin to realize it but if anything you are the catch here.” he said casually and you bit your lip playing with your fingers “Besides, he's just a boy and that shows.”

“Boy?” you asked knowing he meant a lot more by that.

“He only cares about getting into your pants, and I highly doubt he even knows that ladies come first.”

“Meaning?” you said biting your lip. Why did he have to be so perfect?

“Meaning that guys his age are all about getting the job done without giving a single care about how to treasure and ravish a woman's body, how to cherish you with everything of his, show you what real passion is and slowly but pleasurably bringing you over the edge.” he spoke smoothly, his one hand now resting on the kitchen counter and the other in his pocket as his eyes roamed your figure for a moment.

“And a man your age does?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“You'd be surprised, princess.” he smirked, handing the coffee to you “The-” he licked his lips, leaning against the table closer to you now as he looked away from you “The touching, the feeling of each other's bodies and them moving together, pulling and pushing and grinding while it all builds and builds and builds, before you just hit that sweet-” he stopped himself, shaking his head with a small laugh “But you kids do it differently these days, I'm sure.”

“Ye-yeah, I guess some things have changed.” you laughed shyly “You'd really be a good sex ed teacher in my old highschool, though.”

“You think?” he gave you a boyish grin “I don't know how well I'd deal with all those horny teens laughing at the most simple thing though. Speaking of which-” he got serious “Do me a favor and keep the guy at bay, huh (Y/n)? I know a thing or two and he sure as hell doesn't seem like the type to make it all about you like he should.” his eyes bore into yours “Boys like him don't even know how to handle a woman like you, how to be more skilled time after time.”

“And you do?” you asked biting your lip, not even caring to say “men like you” because there was nobody like him. He paused, lips parted as he looked in front of him before he returned his eyes at you.

“I'll let you figure that out, princess.” and he winked at you.

@skymoonandstardust @avengersgirllorianna @banana-pears @milkymilky-cocopuff @emmysthougts @jdougl-love @sea-you-bitch @a-court-of-stydia @yolo188 @itscrissablog @sarahdrawsandshit @beesknees1 @imagine-all-the-imagines @warrior-of-edinburgh @castielsgrace-idjits @ilostmyshoe-chevy67 @deanislife67

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