#young!dean x young!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

Text

Fight Me, Love Me, Save Me Pt. 1

This will fill the "It's mine, and you can't have it." square on my @jacklesversebingo card. The quote will be bolded.

Summary: A series in three parts exploring Y/N's and Dean's relationship from bickering children, to love and broken promises, to a plea for salvation.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. This part is mostly fluff, with a tiny bit of making out at the end. They are both 17 when they're making out, so technically underage, but barely - and they are the same age.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 4,398

A/N: So this series will fill the last three squares on my bingo card. This part covers "It's Mine, and you can't have it." Part two will cover Broken Promises, (Nov 12) and part three will be for the Isolated/Trapped square. (Nov 19)

I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please remember to like, reblog and/or comment. Means the world to us writers! ❤️

The dividers included here were created by @talesmaniac89

Dean and Y/N basically spent their childhood bickering. They met when they were six, when their fathers teamed up for a hunt. The two of them, and Sammy had been left together with a friendly old lady who was mostly deaf, so she very happily didn’t have to hear their constant fighting.

They fought over toys, they fought over snacks, they fought over who would get the first turn on the tire swing in the old lady’s backyard. Dean’s longer legs always got him there first and he’d gloat down at Y/N, his smile wide and wicked.

“Too slow, Y/N!” He’d taunt. “It’s mine, and you can’t have it!”

Since their fathers often teamed up, they ended up with the same babysitters, or in the same schools all the time. Dean was always popular; the teachers always adored him and his sweet smile and big green eyes. But Y/N was shy and slightly awkward, so the other kids didn’t usually play with her and teachers tended to ignore her.

Dean would never let that stand though. When they'd play tag in the schoolyard he’d purposely go up and tag Y/N even though she hadn’t been invited to play the game.

When he’d tap her arm, she’d scowl at him. “I’m not playing, you idiot.”

But Dean would ignore her and any of the other kids saying she couldn’t play. “You’re it!” He’d yell and then run away, sticking his tongue out at her and taunting her because he knew she’d never stand for it, and be forced to play. Once she was playing, the other kids usually didn’t care and the game would go on.

No one teased and tormented her like Dean did though. He was constantly yanking on her ponytail, or shooting spitballs at her from across the classroom. They competed over everything; test scores, who got to be the Christmas tree in the Christmas concert, who could skip with a jumping rope more times in a row without stopping, who built the best sand castle, who made a better volcano in science class - anything and everything.

In spite of that, however, Dean was also her biggest champion. When they were in third grade, Chester Hugo, a wiry little blonde boy, called Y/N fat and ugly and laughed at her. He showed her a picture of a whale in the encyclopedia in their classroom and laughed as he pointed to it.

“That’s you.” He whispered, and all his friends giggled with him silently.

Y/N tried to ignore him, but at recess she was standing up against the brick wall of the school as usual, and Chester began waddling around in front of her and puffing out his cheeks. “Look everybody, I’m Y/N.” He called out before doubling over with laughter.

He only laughed for a second though, because without warning he was tackled to the ground by Dean, and began shrieking and covering his face as Dean pummeled him.

Dean got detention for three days because of it, and got grounded at home too. Y/N felt terrible, but Dean said it was worth it because now every time he walked past Chester, the bully shrank away or ran inside.

When they were in the sixth grade, they went to Truman Middle School in Fort Madison, Iowa for a few months and ended up with a teacher who was absolutely terrible - Mrs. Abernathy.

She was ancient and obviously didn’t really like kids anymore - if she ever had. Her classroom rules were arbitrary and confusing. She was constantly yelling at her students for doing things that had been permissible the day before. She barked orders at them and expected silence from them at all times.

One afternoon the class was set to dissect a frog and Dean and Y/N were paired up to share one of the hapless amphibians. Mrs. Abernathy gave them their frog, closed inside a glass jar, along with a jar of cotton balls soaked in ether to toss in with the frog to kill him.

As soon as the grouchy old lady had moved on, Dean picked up the container holding the frog and pushed it into Y/N’s face.

“Hey Y/N look! It’s lunch time!” He said quietly, thrusting the frog towards her over and over.

“Stop it!” She said in an angry whisper, turning her head. After a while Dean grinned proudly at his ability to gross her out and set the frog back down.

Y/N looked down at it, and then got closer to the jar as the frog lifted its two front legs to press against the glass, looking for a way to hop out. It hopped around the confined space, rather pathetically trying to get free. Suddenly Y/N felt sick to her stomach and tears came to her eyes.

She looked at Dean. “I wanna let him go.” She said quietly so only he could hear.

Dean frowned at her. “What are you talking about? In like two minutes we’re gonna kill it and then look at its guts.” He said, trying to tease Y/N out of her concern for the frog.

But it didn’t work. Y/N shook her head, her tears falling fast now. “No, Dean, don’t kill it. I don’t wanna kill it. Look at him.” She said pointing to the little green creature desperately hopping around as though it could sense its impending doom.

Dean shook his head, trying to reason with her. “Y/N it’s just a frog. It isn’t gonna feel anything, the cotton ball will just make him fall asleep and then he'll die.”

But Y/N was shaking her head, her eyes slightly frantic as Mrs. Abernathy reached the front of the classroom, having given everyone their frogs. Suddenly Y/N grabbed the jar and yanked it open, allowing the desperate frog to immediately hop away.

She realized her mistake quickly as the frog simply jumped up onto another table and made the boys there scream and jump back, knocking their own frog to the floor so it smashed open, giving a second frog its freedom. The class erupted into chaos as the two frogs hopped around the classroom. Three more frogs had their jars smashed open as some kids scattered and stood on chairs, and some kids chased after the frogs.

Eventually, when all the frogs were finally rounded up and put back into new jars, (much to Y/N’s dismay) Mrs. Abernathy began looking for a culprit. She stood in front of Y/N’s desk and her always stern face was particularly harsh as she pointed a bony finger at her.

“That frog came from your desk, Miss Y/L/N, do you care to explain yourself?”

Before Y/N could answer, Dean stood up. “It was me. I opened the jar.”

Y/N looked at him, frowning and shaking her head. But Dean waved his hand at her. “Y/N told me not to, but I thought it would be funny if he got out.” He shrugged and gave a wholly unrepentant grin. “And it really was.”

Y/N tried to say something, but Mrs. Abernathy was too busy grabbing ahold of Dean’s arm and manhandling him out of the room. “Principal Yates is going to hear about this, young man.”

Y/N felt her stomach plummet as Dean was yanked out of the classroom. She sat quietly at her desk, guilty and sick feeling, as the other kids took full advantage of the teacherless classroom to discuss the frog escapade - loudly and with many sound effects.

When Mrs. Abernathy returned, Dean wasn’t with her. Y/N tried to talk to her and explain the truth, but the teacher wouldn’t listen.

“Enough!” She shouted angrily. “There has been more than enough disruption in this classroom for today. Sit down and take out your math textbook.” Y/N opened her mouth and the old lady sliced her hand through the air. “Now!” She barked loudly, making all the other students pull their textbooks out as well.

Y/N didn’t see Dean again until the end of school. He was walking down the side road that led to the motel they were all staying in.

“Dean, wait up!” She called to him and he slowed his long stride. When she reached him she shook her head. “What were you thinking? Why did you say you did it?”

Dean shrugged. “Dunno. I just like to see Abernathy go berserk.” He said with a lazy smile.

Y/N frowned. “You got in trouble. Did you get detention again, or -” She stopped still and gasped. “Were you suspended?”

Dean just shook his head and kept walking. “No, it’s fine.”

Y/N ran after him. “What do you mean? What did Mr. Yates do?” When Dean just sped up and kept walking Y/N reached out and grabbed his hand, trying to force him to stop.

Dean winced and inhaled sharply, his face contorting in pain. He tried to pull his hand away, but Y/N had already seen the huge red welts that were spread over his palm and fingers. Tears immediately flooded her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she stepped closer and cradled his hand in hers.

“He gave you the strap?” She whispered, horrified at the image of Dean’s hands being struck over and over with the thick leather strap the principal kept hanging just outside his office.

Dean shrugged as Y/N lifted his other hand and looked at the damage there too. “Yep, five licks for each hand. Said it was supposed to make me remember to not let the devil use my idle hands for mischief.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait till we're out of this bible-thumping, piece of shit town.”

Despite the life they led, Y/N was still sheltered enough that hearing Dean swear felt rebellious and she blushed a little. Then she sniffled and looked at Dean with remorse suffusing her face. “I’m so sorry. I never should have done it. And I really wish you hadn’t said it was you. I should have been the one getting strapped.”

Dean frowned darkly. “No, that would have been so much worse.” He said quickly.

Y/N’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dean’s face flushed and he just shrugged and pulled his hands away from her. “No, I mean - I just mean, you know I’m a hunter, I’m used to it. I mean the last hunt I went out on, I took down a werewolf.” He bragged. “You and Sammy, you’re still soft.”

Y/N scoffed at that, running to keep up with him as he walked on. “Whatever, oh great Winchester. ‘Took down a werewolf’? I feel like you probably had some help from your dad and mine.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter! I still fought him.” He argued, and the fight was back on.

***

Within a few years though, Sam and Y/N did begin to join the hunts. They started slowly, hunting ghouls and wraiths, and other easier-to-hunt monsters.

However, in Y/N and Dean's Junior year, the end of middle school for Sam, their Dads began asking more of them, claiming that they needed to concentrate on learning to hunt. They told the two of them that they were needed for more important things than algebra. That was when Dean dropped out of high school, going to work with them and hunting full time.

He told Y/N that he was just sick of school, and he’d never need it anyway. But Y/N knew he’d done it to give their Dads the help they wanted while giving her and Sam more time to be students.

By the time they were sixteen Y/N had figured Dean out. He still teased her mercilessly, constantly trying to annoy her with his hard rock, making fun of the boy bands she listened to. When she scored a ninety-five on her chemistry test, he’d called her poindexter for two weeks straight.

But he was also fiercely protective, and he would bloody the nose of anyone who tried to hurt either her or Sam.

And she knew she was right about why he dropped out of school. Sometimes, when she and Sam were sitting around the motel room doing homework together, discussing the novel one of them was reading, or trying to make sense of trigonometry, she’d look up and catch Dean watching them with a look of longing on his face as he was cleaning weapons.

It was always gone in an instant when he noticed her watching, and he’d usually crack some kind of joke about what nerds they were, but Y/N knew what she saw. She would usually suggest that they stop their homework and watch a movie. Or she’d beg Dean to take them for a ride in the Impala that he’d inherited when he turned sixteen and his dad bought a truck. He’d always act like it was a huge pain, but she knew he loved it when they all piled into the car, rolled the windows down, and pretended to be carefree teens for a while.

She knew him and he couldn't get anything past her.

What did sneak up on Y/N, however, was how much she actually liked Dean. Like…like-liked him.

It became clear to her one day when she was seventeen, and in her senior year. Dean swung by one afternoon to pick up her and Sam after school. He was standing outside, leaning against his beloved car, waiting for them to show. She rounded the corner with a few girls she was doing a group project with; they were trying to iron out details of when they were going to meet to collaborate.

When she saw Dean waiting there, she raised her hand to let him know she saw him and she was coming. Sam bolted past her and ran to the car. “Tell him I’m coming!” Y/N yelled after him.

She turned back to the discussion wanting to hurry up so she didn’t miss her chance at a ride. But all of the girls were just staring at her like she’d grown a second head.

“What?” She asked, self consciously covering her face slightly, worried she had something in her teeth.

The short girl to her right, Tracy she thought her name was, sputtered slightly and then looked pointedly at Dean. “Are you kidding me? What? Who?” She asked, flipping her hand quickly in Dean’s direction. “Who the hell is that?”

“Oh,” Y/N responded slightly confused, “that’s just Dean.”

“Dean?” The red-headed girl across from her asked. “Is he your brother?”

“What? Ew! No.” Y/N denied vehemently, and it took her a moment to figure out why that idea grossed her out so much. When the girl with braces (Sheila?) spoke though, the reason hit Y/N like a Mac truck.

“He’s so ridiculously hot!” Sheila exclaimed and all the other girls agreed quickly, giving giggly little moans and being incredibly obvious about staring at Dean.

At first Y/N’s mind wanted to mock that idea, remnants of their childhood rivalries and bickering jumping forward. But then she looked back at him where he still stood, talking to Sam.

Holy crap, she realized with a bolt of lightning kind of realization, he really is ridiculously hot.

He wore black jeans and his black Metallica t-shirt which stretched tightly across his newly broadened shoulders. His hair was thick and perpetually looked like he’d carelessly run his fingers through it. His smile was bright and blinding even across the schoolyard, and though none of them could see it, she knew his eyes would be twinkling in that mischievous way they did when he was bent on getting into trouble.

She could see that he was noticing all the attention he was getting, and he patted Sam on the shoulder and started to walk towards them. Sam gave a full-body eye roll and got into the back seat.

The girls all turned shrill as he approached, laughing like dying hyenas. Y/N felt anger start to burn in her stomach and it confused her. But when Dean stopped in front of them and smiled charmingly at each of them, Y/N recognized that it was jealousy turning her heart green and she was shocked.

“Hello, ladies.” Dean said in a would-be suave kind of way. It made Y/N roll her eyes, but her classmates practically swooned.

A chorus of dreamy hellos followed and Y/N grabbed on to Dean to pull him away. But Dean resisted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So I’ve, uh, got my car over there.” He said, thumbing towards the Impala, his face full of teenage boy pride. “Anyone need a lift?”

All of them began nodding and squealing, but Y/N shouted over them. “No, it’s fine, Dean, let’s just go. They’re good.” She succeeded in dragging him off but when they were a few yards away from them, Y/N ran back quickly to warn her temporary classmates, using a paraphrased version of she and Dean’s childhood refrain.

“Stay away from him. He’s mine and you can’t have him.”

***

Once Y/N realized her feelings for Dean, things became very awkward for her. All the things that used to be simple, sitting beside him to watch a movie, training with him for hunts, simply sitting across the room from him and looking at him - they all became unbearable situations that she didn’t know how to deal with.

When she sat beside him now she could feel the way he radiated warmth, she could feel her heart skip a beat when he’d shift his leg so his thigh pressed against hers. When they were training, simple holds that she had only ever cared about breaking out of before, now left her breathing heavy. When his big hand would wrap around her wrist or whenever he'd reach his strong arms around her waist from behind, it was everything she could do not to just sink into his arms like putty.

About a week and a half after her epiphany hit, she and Dean were alone in the motel room, sparring, and he pushed her up against a wall, pinning her there and expecting she'd try to get out. But he was breathing softly across her cheek, his face inches from hers and her whole body started tingling, making her lose her grip on the knife she held. It fell from her grasp and ended up slicing his calf on the way down.

“Aah! Jesus!” Dean shouted as he let her go and hobbled away from her. “What the hell, Y/N? What’s wrong with you?”

He sat down on the bed and Y/N ran over to pull up his slashed jeans, gasping at the long wound that bled down the side of his calf.

“Oh my god, Dean!” She said, jumping up and quickly grabbing the first aid kit. She got back on her knees beside the bed and pressed pads of gauze against his leg to stop the bleeding. She looked up into his face and saw his eyes closed in pain. “I’m so sorry! I just…”

Tears hit the backs of her eyes and she shook her head, looking back at his leg. “God, I’m so sorry.” She repeated in a teary voice.

“Hey.” Dean said as he lifted her chin so she was looking at him again. His thumb brushed away a tear that fell down her cheek. “Sweetheart, it's fine. No need for tears. I’ve survived worse.”

Y/N’s breath stilled in her chest and she whispered quietly. “You’ve never called me that before…sweetheart.”

Dean immediately tried to act casual, but he wasn’t a very good actor. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t, like, freak out about it.”

Y/N nodded and went back to caring for his wound. Once she got the bleeding stopped, she could see it wasn’t very deep. As she cleaned it, she could feel the tension between them rising, like something thick and palpable.

Dean cleared his throat. “Did you, uh…I mean do you want me to call you that? Or, I mean…did you like it?”

Y/N felt her cheeks turn a burning red and she shrugged as she taped a big piece of gauze over the long cut. “I dunno.” Was her only response.

She was finished taking care of him, so she stood up and started to walk away. But Dean’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the back of her t-shirt. He let go as she turned back to face him.

“Why have you been so weird lately?”

Y/N laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”

Dean stood up and pressed closer to her, slipping his hand around her so that it laid against the small of her back. Her blood pumped hard in her veins and she licked her lips. Dean’s jaw clenched and his eyes fell to her mouth.

“I mean that you’ve been weird with me all week. Ever since I picked you up at school and you got all jealous.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped open before she slammed it shut and spluttered. “Whatever! You wish! Like I care about the dozens of girls you riffle through in every town we stay in.”

Dean moved closer to her and brought his other hand up to cup her cheek and trail his fingers along her jawbone. “I mean…it does actually seem like you care a little bit.”

He walked her backwards a few more steps so that she was pressed up against the wardrobe that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes roamed over her face and then he looked deeply into her eyes, and his green-eyed gaze made her feel exposed, like he could see into her soul so there was no point in lying to him. He’d always known how she felt. He knew when she was scared, knew when she was annoyed, and when she was furious; he knew her sadness and the loneliness that seized her sometimes.

He always knew, and he always knew just how to make things better for her. She’d already realized that she was actually incredibly attracted to him, but now she realized that he was also her best friend. She felt incredibly stupid for not realizing that sooner. She’d always thought of him as this annoying gnat that wouldn’t leave her alone. But really he was the person who knew her the best, the one she was never afraid to go to for anything, the one she knew would always have her back.

Dean’s breath was soft against her lips as he hovered there. “So, do you care, Y/N? Even a little?”

She could do nothing but nod, and then close the distance between them, pressing her lips against his briefly before pulling back, terrified to see his reaction.

But a wide, slightly goofy smile spread across his face and it made her smile in return. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” He said before he planted his mouth over hers and kissed her for real.

She’d never been kissed before, but she’d imagined it many times. This was nothing like she’d imagined. It was much wetter, much hotter, and much more all-consuming than she’d imagined it would be. Her head was swimming, and she felt like she might pass out. He swept his tongue into her mouth and she moaned.

The thought of “french kissing” had always weirded her out a little. Who wanted someone else’s tongue in their mouth? But Dean’s tongue was silky and skillful as he trailed it along the roof of her mouth. It felt possessive and that feeling made her stomach clench in a pleasant and shaky kind of way.

When she reciprocated, slowly allowing her tongue to trail along his, Dean groaned and slipped both his hands down over her hips to press her closer to him. She gasped as she felt his hard on through his jeans, pressing against her lower belly.

Dean pulled his mouth away from her and dropped his forehead to her shoulder, before turning his head and pressing soft kisses along her neck.

“Sorry.” He said gruffly. “It’s just…I mean, fuck you’re crazy hot. Sorry.” He said again, but Y/N giggled, more thrilled than she could say at his reaction to her and to their kisses.

“But,” Dean continued, “there’s no rush or anything, no rush to, you know, do anything.” He raised his head to look her in the eye. “I’m just so glad that you're, uh…that you like me, you know…like that. I’ve liked you for so long.”

He brushed his lips across hers. “Been wanting to kiss you since we were about eleven years old.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Seriously? I just realized last week that I wanted to kiss you. How have you known this long, and not tried to kiss me even once?”

Dean shrugged sheepishly. “Never thought you’d want me to, and I wasn't about to try something and weird you out…or make you stay away from me. But then, you seemed so jealous the other day, and the daggers you were shooting at those other chicks gave me some reason to hope. Then you’ve been so weird ever since.”

Y/N snorted. “Whatever, I wasn’t shooting any daggers. I’ve been very cool and collected this whole time.” She lied.

Dean laughed. “Yeah, the gaping wound on my leg says otherwise.”

“Hey, don’t blame me because you lost focus and got yourself hurt.” Y/N said haughtily.

“Lost focus? I did not lose focus. You got all swoony and dropped the damn knife.”

“That’s totally not true. You know you always - “

Suddenly Dean cut her off with another kiss, one that was deep and probing and left Y/N completely senseless.

Dean’s breathing was harsh and shallow too as he rested his forehead on hers and spoke against her lips.

“God, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Kiss me?” Y/N asked, her eyes still closed.

“No. Shut you up.”

It took Y/N a moment to register his words and then her eyes popped open and she saw his wide, mischievous grin and punched his upper arm lightly. “You’re an asshole.”

Dean nodded and yanked her tight against him. “Yeah, but I’m your asshole.”

Y/N laughed. “Yes.” She nodded. “But let’s just remember who kissed who first.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

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

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #jacklesversebingo23 #dean x reader #young!dean #dean winchester fluff #spn fan fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester series #spn fan fic series

109 notes · View notes

1000roughdrafts · 1 month

Note

i thought of one more (i'm sorry!): could i please request a teenage!winchesters and teenage!reader (samxreader as either crushes or bf/gf, sam and reader are like 13 and dean is 17) where reader is stuck with the brothers while her parents are hunting with john and reader is pmsing hard and sam is convinced that she's possessed by a demon and it's up to dean to give an awkward, impromptu facts of life lesson to the embarrassed reader and the embarrassed (but curious lol) sam?

Don't be sorry!! I'M sorry for not getting this out sooner!!!

Warnings: mention of menstruation, minor characters used, minor gore (with menstruation)

Word Count: 1.4k

Being the daughter of a hunter in debt to John Winchester, Y/N is frequently dragged from town to town and pawned off to the hands of a 17-year-old Dean Winchester while her dad helps John on a case. Y/N would protest this more if it weren't for the youngest Winchester, Sam, who she may have a little bit of a crush on. She'd never admit to it, but she usually looks forward to the time she gets to spend with him, even if it did mean being left out of the action of a hunt.

Today, however, is a different story, because Y/N is having a visit from what dad calls "shark week". When she first got it, she was terrified, and dad heard her screams from across the house. But all he ever said about it was that he wasn't expecting it so soon, and she was entering womanhood. When she asked if that meant she'd be able to go hunting with him, he laughed, and tossed a box of pads at her. "Absolutely not," he'd said.

Too consumed with rage, confusion, and this horrible twisting pain in her stomach, Y/N completely misses the look of excitement on Sam's face when she arrives. She angrily tosses her bag onto the floor by the door and immediately regrets it. She gives a curt goodbye to her dad and tries to shake away the weird feeling, but the more she tries to fight it, the worse it gets. She tries to take deep breaths the way her dad taught her until Sam interrupts. “Heya, Y/N! Dean and I were about to watch a show, you wanna join us?"

"No," she says flatly, surprising herself with her tone. She is unsure of what to call the emotions that bubble inside of her. It's like she wants to hug him after not seeing him for so long but punch him for not giving her any time to get settled. She isn't interested in watching anything when her stomach feels like it's being stabbed over and over by a million knives. She looks up just in time to see his face fall, and she's upset with herself for she'd just spoken to him. "'No, thank you', is what I meant to say, sorry," she says, plopping into the chair, wanting nothing more than to become invisible.

Sam shoots Dean a look of concern, but Dean just shrugs, saying, "chicks."

Shaking his head, Sam slowly and curiously approaches Y/N, studying her face carefully as he sits in the chair next to her. With a gentle shrug, he says, "that's okay, we can do something else," he suggests, still watching her face for anything out of the ordinary.

"I don't want to, Sam" she says, but her bottom lip quivers in regret. The words are coming out on their own as if her body, or this "Shark Week" has taken over her, leaving her without control of her own thoughts, emotions or words. She covers her face in an attempt to stifle the sobs that break out of her, and soon after she's laughing at the absurdity of it all. She takes a deep breath, and relaxes into the seat, "I'm sorry," she says, "again. We can watch TV."

Sam's eyebrows furrow as he looks to Dean, smiling away at the magazine, and then back to Y/N, "are you okay, Y/N?" he asks.

"Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!" she growls, "first my dad, then John, now you!"

Sam is taken aback by this, and that's when he notices that her hand is held tightly on her stomach. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Sam is confident that this isn't Y/N, that Y/N is in there somewhere, fighting to be free from whatever demon is possessing her.

"Okay!" he says, hands held up to her, "it's just... you're not you today, is all," he frowns. She glares at him, and for a moment he swears her eyes flickered black! He gasps, jumping out of his seat, "Dean, can I talk to you outside, please?"

"Oh, jeeze, Sam. Relax, would ya?" Dean says without looking up from his magazine, "just give the girl some space."

"Dean," Sam whispers through clenched teeth, taking a step closer to him, "I don't think that's a girl anymore."

Y/N stands from her chair, "what did you just say?" she snarls.

Sam swallows hard, "no, it's just..." he looks at his brother for help, but all Dean can do is laugh. With a frown, Sam looks at Y/N again. There's definitely something different about her, an anger in her face that he's never seen before. He whispers something to Dean that Y/N can't hear.

Y/N crosses her arms, "hmm?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Dean laughs, but Sam hurries to grab a glass of holy water. With a shaky hand, he turns to approach Y/N.

"Woah! What the Hell do you plan on doing with that?" she asks, taking a few steps back.

"See, Dean! I told you!"

"You think I'm possessed?" she cries, and then the realization hits her. Maybe there is a demon that has possessed her body! Maybe that's why her dad dropped her off here, or why he gave her the pads in case she needed to contain the demon somehow. It would certainly explain why she doesn't feel like she can control herself or her emotions. Her face flushes, and her whole body gets hot. She rushes to the window to let in some fresh air, but before she could get to it, Sam dumps the water on her, drenching her face and hair.

"Woah woah woah," Dean says, jumping up to stand between Sam and Y/N.

"No! Dean, she could be a demon!" Sam shouts, his voice cracking.

"Sam, no, I promise she's not a demon." Dean turns to look at Y/N as she wipes the water and tears off her face. "Listen, uh, why don't you two sit down?" he sighs. He pops into the bathroom to grab a towel, and tosses it to Y/N, "here. There's a blanket over there, too, if you want it."

Y/N only nods, taking the towel to her face and hair.

Dean rubs his hand down his face and looks at the wide eyes of the two kids in front of him. Sam nervously shakes his knee, continually glancing at Y/N to make sure she doesn't try anything. Dean pulls a chair from the table and props it in front of Sam and Y/N.

He flips it around to use the back of it as an arm rest. Sitting down, his eyes bounce from Y/N's tearful, red face to Sam's, and he laughs when he sees how scared his little brother is. In a chuckle, he looks directly at Y/N and says, "our dads suck for not explaining this to either of you," his eyes move to Sam. He shakes his head again, thinking of how ridiculous it is that he has to be the one to have the 'birds and the bees' conversation with them.

"What Y/N is going through is perfectly normal," he says, looking from Sam to Y/N, "it's called a 'period', and it's when the lining of your uterus sheds, which causes you to bleed. Hence the pads. And the change in hormones is what causes mood swings, not a demonic possession," he sighs, "any questions? No? Okay, good," he says, smacking his legs with his hands before standing up.

"Wait, Dean," Sam says, twisting his fingers in his hand, "why does it shed, though?" he whispers, looking over at Y/N, who shies away from his glance.

"Something to do with the egg not being fertilized. It's part of the reproduction process," Dean sighs.

"Reproduction? But how does the egg get fertilized? And what happens when it does?" Sam asks.

"You are making it sound like I'm a chicken or something," Y/N snorts.

Dean quickly moves the chair back to the table, "okay, no," he says hand up at Sam, "I'm not having that conversation with you two. You'll figure it out one day. In the meantime, Sam no more exorcists on poor Y/N."

Y/N sinks into her seat, trying to hide out of embarrassment from her body being the subject of conversation since she got here.

"I'm sorry," Sam squeaks, and Y/N can barely look him in the eyes, "I'm sorry for thinking you were a demon, Y/N."

Dean can't help but to laugh. "I'm gonna go out for some drinks from the vending machine. I'll be back."

"It's okay, Sam," Y/N whispers, "I kind of thought that, too for a minute," she giggles. "Can we watch that show, now?"

“Sure, Y/N,” he smiles, clicking the remote

----

If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

Everything Tags <3

@waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373

Sam <3

@fangirlxwritesx67 @tlovescoffee @immafangirlmess @cluz1babe @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @sizekinkshawty @chaospossum

#young winchester #supernatural sam winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x teen!reader #supernatural fan fictions #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural fan fic #fanfic #supernatural fic #3rd person pov

45 notes · View notes

brightlilith · 3 months

Text

Y/N: I love you so much, Dean...

Dean: Don't do this, please... *he whispered*

Y/N: You need to go back... back to Sam... your family.

Dean: You are my family too... please don't let go. *Y/N wiped the tears from Dean's face*

Y/N: I'm sorry, D. There's nothing I can do.

*This is from a fanfic I wrote a while ago, I posted a chapter but I don't know if anyone would want to read the rest, so I didn't post it.

But you can read it here! And maybe you can give me some feedback.. idk ;)

#dean winchester x y/n #supernatural dean #dean winchester fanfic #sam and dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #young jensen #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles

33 notes · View notes

happy74827 · 2 years

Text

Irrepressible Desire

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Over the last couple of months, you found yourself struggling to contain the barrier between friendship and desire with your best friend. So far it was accomplishable, until a certain late night drive threatens to pulverize your restraint

WC: 2,796

Category: Lime/Steamy, Slight Angst.

And as always, if you enjoyed, please feel free to reblog and drop a comment or two. I’d love to hear your feedback!

『••✎••』

To have his hands glide down your waist as you reel into him further. Your fingers searching and gripping through his hair as he’s leaning down, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You longed for his steamy and moist breath to send shivers all around your collarbone. To feel his arms lift you up off the ground, gripping your thighs as he pivots and pins you against the nearest wall.

You begged to hear your name fall from his lips, to meet his pleading eyes for that brief moment. That pause in life where everything moves in slow motion, where it feels as if you’re the only two in the room — in the world. His green eyes, glowing a vibrant emerald in the moonlight, replicating the emotion that the both of you felt. All without a single word.

You dreamt for that day to come — for him to finally look at you different than what he saw. To share that first heart felt kiss. To have him look at you as if you were a dream.

Yet every day was the same.

He would flash his oblivious dazzling smile as you told him your daily ramble. It was mostly minor stuff that had happened on your way to work. Nonetheless, it was something — anything that gave you a reason to stop by in the afternoon.

At times, you’d find yourself daydreaming about him right there on the spot, listening to him babble about a new hunt he investigated. He’d talk about the odd encounters he had with Sammy while all you could think about was his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. His soft, tender lips meeting yours — molding in sync perfectly as pillows.

It was only on rare occasions where you’d find him irritated with life. His plaid pullover hung limply over his shoulders, despite being supported by such a strong base from all the hunts he’ve done. He had such a determined look on his face even with dark, sunken circles under his beautifully bloodshot eyes. The eyes that were flicking back and forth over his father’s journal of secrets. He sat there with his hands resting on his temple — making you wonder what he thought about, other than the hunts. It’s almost as if you could hear the nonstop clunking of gears turning in his head.

On those days, you were there solely as his friend. A buddy to listen, share, and ease the stress. And he carried loads of it.

You’ve always admired him for his determined attitude. He and his brother saved countless of lives, including yours on occasion. The compassion and loyalty he has for people was what made you fall in love with him to begin with. No matter what he seemed like on the outside.

You did avoid him at times, finding the days harder to withstand around him. A part of you felt as if he knew. The gleam in his omniscient eyes.

It pained you to keep up with the denial and the lie you’ve told him. What you’ve told yourself. It made you scream out into your pillow at night, begging your dream to come true. But, of course, it hasn’t.

It was late, about an hour after midnight. You hadn’t slept due to picturing him in your mind repeatedly as if his face were a bunch of snapshots. That made matters worse with the fact that he was beside you the entire time of you doing so.

You were in the passenger seat of his Impala — Baby as he calls it, staring out into the abyss of your mind. The faint but prominent midnight blue of the night sky stared back at you in awe. The moon glowed softly onto the darkened pavement, seeming as if the twinkling stars were encouraged as they dashed behind the tree tops. Then, suddenly, popping back to greet you once again.

The car itself stayed at a comfortable temperature allowing you to relax into the seat. If he weren’t clouding your thoughts, you might’ve drifted off — at least for an hour or two.

Sighing to yourself, you turned to the man in question, Dean.

His eyes were focused on the desolate road in front of him, humming softly to the music of your choosing.

When his eyes flickered over to you, noticing the pondered look, you had forgotten to breathe once again.

“Hey,“ he murmured, soft as a whisper. His voice alone was deep and full of drowsiness, yet it held an angelic tone to it. That alone sent shivers down your spine. “Something on your mind?”

Your imagination started back up again as you peek at him from the corner of your eye in guilt. You couldn’t help yourself but envision him as if you were the only two people in the world. He was the most enchanting man you’ve ever encountered in your life. The way his pink lips were slightly quirked up on one side. How his impressive biceps tense and relax with every gear shift he made. The way his alluring green eyes flickered back and forth from the road, then to you like he was waiting for a reaction of some sort.

Wait, had he asked you something? You couldn’t remember… It was like all of your coherent and reasonable thoughts were carelessly tossed out of the window.

All you could think about was you and him. Him touching you; kissing you. Your lips, your jaw, your neck… how badly you wanted him to pull and drag you to the back and show you what it’s like to open your heart indefinitely to one man. This man. Your man.

You heard him call out your name, slowly pulling you back to reality. With a blink you were back in the passenger seat. He was still driving, but his glances were more rapid now. More concerning.

Shit, what did he ask?!

“Uh, sweetheart?” With the nickname rolling off his tongue with unease, you could feel the tension rising in the car. “You, alright?”

“F-Fine.” You hesitated.

He noticed. “You sure? You’re looking at me like you’re ready to devour my brain, zombie girl.”

You mentally scolded yourself, looking down in guilt, as he turned back to the road with a chuckle. Fortunately for you, he seemed completely oblivious of the lustful yearning you had for him.

As excuses go, you were lousy. You weren’t as quick-witted as the boys, stumbling over words to find a simple lie to cover your tracks. It was one of the reasons why you still worked at the coffee shop, rather than helping out with the hunts. That and they physically didn’t allow you to.

“I’m just… hungry.” You finally answered, too embarrassed to look him the eye. “That’s all.”

“Want a burger? I’m sure Mickey D’s is still open.”

“No, it’s okay—“

“Seriously, sweetheart,” you could tell from his voice, he was smiling. “I don’t mind.”

“No, Dean—“

“We could pick up a number one for Sam too—“

“I don’t want a burger!“ You finally snapped, glaring at him in the driver’s seat. It took you a few seconds to realize what you’ve done, immediately shrinking in size once you had.

The sudden anger made him pull a full 180 to look at you in shock, causing the car to swerve. He frantically regained his posture, guiding the car back to his lane, before taking quick glances at you once again.

It fell in an unnerving silence between the two of you. The tension was so high, yet you could feel his body heat caressing your skin, as if to reassure you that he wasn’t upset. You felt yourself subconsciously inching towards him, unable to turn away.

After a minute or two, he grabbed hold of his steering wheel with his palm, spinning it lightly in his hand. He was supposed to make a left turn, as you were nearing the dingy motel, but instead he effortlessly parked off to the side. Once he straightened his wheels back out, he reached over and turned off the radio.

Now it really was just you and him.

You stared at him in bewilderment as he flipped on the courtesy light, allowing you to finally see his face properly.

His was slightly sweaty, mostly due to the humidity outside. His messy hair stuck to the side of his head, the tips dripping down from his temple to his neck. You imagined what it would feel like to run your fingers through that hair. To cling onto it as his hands rummaged against your waist, pulling you in.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t in any layers. Only the hiking boots, jeans, and the plain cotton tee that hung tightly around his shoulders, outlining his toned physique. If you squinted hard enough, you could see the faint outline of his abs poking through.

Then, of course, was the amulet that hung loosely on his neck. You remembered asking him the importance of it on the day you’ve met. He had walked into the coffee shop, ordering the most disgusting coffee on the menu, with it dangling on full display for everyone to see.

At first he lied, as you were just a barista, but he later informed you that it was a symbol of his bond to his brother, Sam. It was a present that he’d cherished since they were younger. Despite its sweet backstory, It truly was an odd-looking thing. A humanoid head with bull-like horns aiming upwards held together with a black cord.

From what he told you, he never takes it off.

“You’re not really hungry, are you?” He eventually asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between you two. He rested his arm against the back of the seat, slouching his leg over his knee to face you directly.

You slightly frowned at him, already giving him the answer without saying the word.

“Figures,” Dean sighed in response, rolling his head back in annoyance — making you go feral on the inside. “You’re a shitty liar, sweetheart.”

“Why do you call me sweetheart?”

The question rolled off your tongue before you could stop yourself. You felt his eyes linger on yours, the soft freckles on his nose staring daggers at you. Then the unexpected happened, he snorted.

He snorted like pig. “Really? Out of all the questions you could’ve asked, you pick that one?”

“I… I just—“

“Stop,” Dean reached out to grab your shoulders. You instantly melted into his touch, barely holding yourself back from collapsing into him. “Just, stop.”

His thumb caressed your bare shoulder as he stared deeply into your eyes. You felt yourself lean closer into his touch as his thumb became a palm, rising up to cup your jaw.

“Dean…?” You muttered softly into his ear, realizing you were only inches apart from one another. The smell of whiskey that was stained deeply into his shirt, blessed your nostrils, filling you up with euphoria. For the first time ever you felt the heat of his breath touch your cheek — sending shivers all throughout your body.

Was this really really happening? After all those nights of crying into your pillow, this moment didn’t feel real. You felt as if you were going to wake up back in the passenger seat with the motel sign outside the windshield.

But that didn’t happen. You didn’t wake up. You weren’t daydreaming again… it was real. It was all real. He lowered himself down to your lips, slightly lifting your chin to an angle, hovering his over yours for a moment. Just a moment, as if he was searching for some kind of assurance. An okay to go forward. Your eyes closed with ambition as he finally collided them together.

You took it slow, plucking intimately at his soft mouth — not knowing how to proceed. His lips rolled back slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Dean kissed you again, now cradling your head more securely, his other hand easing up your side. He drew back enough to turn your head, changing the angle. He did it slowly, your noses brushing. You blinked drowsily, mirroring him, parting your lips slightly in anticipation. You caught the unsteady shudder of his breath against your skin before your mouths met again. Your lips moved haltingly.

You followed Dean’s press and retreat, over and over.

Your fingers were still in the boy’s sweaty, soft hair when he had slicked your lower lip with his tongue. You shuddered, pressing nearer as he slid his tongue into the willing heat of your mouth, easing deep, sliding out wet. You found yourself panting softly as Dean kissed your mouth again, again, and again. Your lips kneading, inflamed, with the press of his tongue again. He didn’t make a sound, he wouldn’t allow himself a low rumble of pleasure, not while you parted your lips wantonly, not while your tongues met, slick, rolling lazily.

He eventually pulled you towards the drivers side, letting you straddle his lap as he gripped a handful of your hair gingerly. It allowed you what you wanted, sucking the wet twisting root of your tongue deep into his mouth. Then, and only then did he make a soft noise, a low sigh as you parted for quick air before intertwining together again, straining against each other, rubbing clothed skin, warm fabric under your flexing hands.

Dean touched your back, the curve of your spine, encouraging you closer. The slobbery kisses never calmed, getting rougher and rougher to the point where you had to pull apart for a breather.

For a moment you both sounded like dogs that ran a marathon. Panting and sweating in sync as your foreheads collide. Dean’s hands found their way to grip your waist to keep you safe and stable on top of him as he pulls away to look at you.

He murmurs your name underneath his breath, panting between words as he pulls a strand of hair out of your face. You stare at him enchantedly, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“God,” he huffs, “it’s a good thing I pulled over, huh?”

You smiled in response, quietly chortling, as your luxuriant eyes glossed over the man you’ve come to love. Your breaths mended in sync, both exasperated from the sudden jolt in energy.

“You remind me of my dog.”

His blunt statement had you give a double take, raising your eyebrows. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, his neutral eyes staring into yours. “A dog?”

“Yeah, my dog.” His tone made it sound as if it were obvious.

“My kissing reminds you of your dog?”

He rolled his eyes at your statement, raising his hands towards the center of your waist. “When my dad was learning how to become a hunter, we owned a dog for a while. Sammy was too young to remember, but her name was Sweetie. A golden retriever that we rescued as a pup.” His eyes glimmered at what you believed to be the memory of him and his dog. A smile formed, “Dad hated her, he hated everything, but I didn’t. She was the thing that made the first few years without my mom, not a living hell.”

“That’s… that’s beautiful, Dean, but why are you sharing this with me?”

“You asked me before why I called you sweetheart, that’s why. Her name was Sweetie, but I called her sweetheart as a nickname.”

“Dean—“

“Please, let me finish,” he cupped your face, forcing you to look into his pleasing eyes. “No matter how many times I deny it, you’re special to me. I’ve come to realized that. You’re it for me, hun, and you’ve always had been. I knew you felt the same for a long time — like I said, you’re a shit liar — but I was too scared to act, in fear of your safety.”

You raised an eyebrow, rubbing your thumb against his wrist. “My safety…?”

“Everyone who gets involved with me, gets hurt — one way or another. And I can’t seem to stop it no matter how hard I try. I’ve seen the way you’ve look at me, the way I look at you, so I constantly made an effort to stick you with someone else. Someone better than I am. But, that, obviously didn’t work.”

You knew this was it, all the pain of wishing you were good enough was over. Because the truth was, you were always good enough for him.

He sighed, taking his hand into yours. His swollen lips kissed the palm of your hand, allowing the slightest dent of his lips to curl upwards.

“It just made it harder to let you go.”

315 notes · View notes

hannya-writes · 6 months

Text

Masterlist II

Harry Potter Universe

Something Wicked this way comes (Percival Graves x reader)

Something Wicked this Way Comes (Part II) (Percival Graves x reader)

Deleramentum (Sirius Black x reader)

Chapter I

Chapter II

• • •

Once Upon a Time

Your home Is Were I am (Jefferson x Reader)

Almost Magical. (Jefferson x Reader)

Jefferson’s Happy Ending (Jefferson x Reader)

• • •

Star Wars

Obi Wan Kenobi

Only you

A White Demon Love Song

The Promise

Why would you ask that?

Melting Waltz

By Her Side

I’ve Always known

Before Our Masters Found us

Is this a Dream?

You are my friend, right?

Even in Death...

Forget

Offspring

• • •

Supernatural

It’s Our Daughter, Cas (Castiel x Reader)

Gone Angel (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summon the Father (Dean Winchester x Reader)

• • •

Teen Wolf

Your Kind (Part I) (Derek Hale x reader)

I like you the way you are (Derek Hale x Reader)

• • •

Law and Order SVU/Marvel Multiverse

Wanna see a trick?

Don´t Tell Anyone (Requested) (Carisi x Reader)

Supernatural/The Walking Dead

Stop coming by (Negan x Reader)

Genshin Impact

The Broken Contract (Morax x Reader)

Sandbearer (Morax x Reader)

Continue to Masterlist I

37 notes · View notes

winchestergirl2 · 9 months

Text

July Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Rec List

The Boys

Soldier Boy

Break Me Down Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 |Part 16 | @zepskies

Authors Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

God Bless America @rizlowwritessortof

Escape Chapter 55 | Chapter 56 | Chapter 57 @soaringeag1e

Authors Summary: A serial killer is reeking havoc around Lawrence, Kansas, and Detective Dean Winchester is getting really sick of finding more and more bodies. But one day, he gets a call about another victim. But instead of the location of another body, he gets news that this one escaped the hell of this mans actions.

Sam Winchester

Told You So @there-must-be-a-lock

If We Must (Sequel to Told You So) @there-must-be-a-lock

Untitled Sam Winchester drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Young Winchesters (no pairings)

Safe When The Darkness Falls @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Authors Summary: Dean vows to never let anything hurt Sammy again.

Chicago Fire

Matt Casey

It's Just A Dance @taliaaurora

Could have been avoided @deanstead

Authors Summary: When Y/N clashes with the acting squad lieutenant who’s covering Kelly, things get just a little out of hand.

All In A Day @deanstead

Authors Summary: Y/N's brothers find out by chance who she's dating. Later that day, an incident with a patient sends all three of them rushing to check on her.

Walker

Cordell Walker

Putting The Past To Rest @idreamofplaid

Authors Summary: Walker is finally beginning to come to terms with his past because the reader is someone he wants in his future.

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Didn't Mean To Stay @zepskies

Authors Summary: After three months, you ask Beau to make it clear. Is he serious about this relationship, or are you two just passing time?

#winchestergirl2 recs #winchestergirl2 reads #fic recs #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #matt casey x reader #matt casey fic #young dean winchester fic #young sam winchester fic #cordell walker fic #cordell walker x reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen fic

28 notes · View notes

dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy · 22 days

Text

since the old poll is closing i have a new question…is dean a fan of Deftones? i could see his teen self getting into a couple of songs but i need an answer from the collective because i cant make my own assumptions

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean #spn #winchester #sam winchester #supernatural x reader #shifting reality #rock music #young dean #teen!dean

5 notes · View notes

paarthurnax59 · 1 year

Text

"Soul Of Liberty"

Pairings: Dean Winchester x ex-wife!Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, talks of cheating, divorce, depression, anger issues, torture, human trafficking, violence, swearing, grudges, hate for exes, talks of smut.

Important note: This story is inspired by the angst fanfiction written by @magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics of her request one-shot of Reader being married to Dean and cheating on him with his brother Sam when he was soulless. I asked about a request from her on a part 2 where she goes above and beyond to earn his forgiveness, no matter how stubborn and hurt Dean is. It's called "Brother in Sin." Angsty as HELL!!!! I really wanted to do a one shot based on this story, but no reply from her. Yes, I want to give her credit to her for this idea and you should look at her stuff! I was working and watching a clip of Avengers: Endgame and was watching Tony's funeral. I was thinking a crossover with Supernatural and Avengers where the reader goes on a long path of redemption, joins Shield, fights alongside the Avengers and dedicated her life to keeping the world safe. Dean is distraught at how much his cheating ex-wife had thrived and so well loved by the world and everything falls apart a result of it. Just kind of made into an entire story and going to work on this.

Introduction: Dean and Reader used to be married and Dean truly thought they were happy until his beloved wife cheated on him with his brother Sam when he was soulless, got caught and left her. a couple years later, Reader tried to apologize and hopefully try to get her husband back, However, Dean was not having it. He had a new woman in his life and left her thinking he would never see her again.

a couple more years later, Dean turns on the news and saw that his ex-wife had become an Avenger and is rumored to be dating Steve Rogers, aka. Captain America. He watches his ex-wife flourish and thrive without him and apparently had gotten super powers, the public calling her "Liberty", inspired by the good Captain. Over time, he lets (Name)'s public persona as one of earth's mightiest heroes and getting the love, attention and praise of one, destroy the life he had finally built after their divorce. Becoming insane over her.

He becomes obsessed with the fact the whole world adores the woman that betrayed him. Believing the worst in (Name), Dean comes to the conclusion that she might have sold her soul to become an Avenger. At the night of a charity Gala at the MET in New York, he decides to confront her at the event all the Avengers were attending, but will Dean soon come to realize that not everything as it seems and can people change for the better?

prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

more to come...

#dean winchester #angst #marvel #captain america fluff #supernatural #the avengers #dean winchester angst #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #young adult

47 notes · View notes

violentdelightsproductions · 1 year

Photo

Halloween 2022: Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus (Supernatural x Hocus Pocus AU)

October 31st, 1993. The Sam and Dean have to spend Halloween in Salem as their father is hunting nearby. There they run into Ellie Spencer, who just loves Halloween and all things witchy. The three of them decide to spend Halloween night all together. Roaming around they find an old house that, as the legend goes, used to be the home of three wicked witches. Wanting to impress Ellie, Dean lights up a black candle that summons the witches back to life. The Winchesters and Ellie now have to do everything in their power to stop the witches from claiming an innocent soul and performing a spell that will grand them immortality, before the sun rises. That task though, is proven to be rather hard, as the witches are back. And they don’t intend to go anywhere....

73 notes · View notes

saiacross · 8 months

Text

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic: 7,258: Words: Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 10: Young Sam

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters.

⬅ Chapter 9 Hallucinations💜 Chapter 11 Together Again ⚠️ Dean ➡ Master List

Chapter 10: Young Sam Our trio has caught onto a case that, even after it was dealt with, continues to tear a riff among the brothers and Y/N. Sam is affected by a spell that brings back painful memories for Dean that cause him to speak his true feelings to Y/N about how he sees her. But that won't stop her from being there for Sam, as long as he needs her. Hurt Dean.

Dean had his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel as the Impala raced down the highway, the wind rushing through the open windows. Sam, sitting shotgun, was focused on his laptop, scanning through various reports and news articles. Y/N, in the backseat, watched the scenery pass by, her thoughts wandering.

As they crossed the state line into Iowa, Sam's eyes widened as he stumbled upon an intriguing article. He turned to face Dean and Y/N, his expression a mix of excitement and concern.

"Guys, so get this," Sam interrupted the quiet rumble of the engine, turning his head to face Dean and Y/N. "I think we're dealing with a witch here. The reports mention incidents happening around town; an herbal shop was robbed in the middle of the night but no money was taken, dead ravens are being found all over town picked clean of their feathers, a lady got into a fight with someone over Black Salt, and……. a flower shop was held at gunpoint for it vervain and moonflowers ."

Dean nodded, his focus shifting from the road to Sam. "A witch, huh? Well, we've tangled with those before. What's the deal with these ingredients, that’s definitely not your typical grocery list."

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Some witches are so stuck up, their ingredients always have to be as fresh as possible, what's wrong with just hitting up the grocery store? It’s the same shit ." Her annoyance seeped into her voice, and she crossed her arms in frustration.

Dean chuckled at Y/N's comment, finding her straightforward approach amusing. "Yeah, those witches with their gourmet spells, right?" he joked.

Sam shot a smile at Y/N, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, I get it. It can be annoying, but some spells require specific ingredients for their potency. We just need to figure out what this witch is up to and stop them before it's too late."

With curiosity and determination in her eyes, Y/N pulled out her phone and dialed Angelique's number. As the phone rang, Sam and Dean watched her with interest, curious to see what her plan was.

“What better way to figure out what a Witch is doing than to ask a Witch?” Y/N had said to Dean and Sam when she noticed them watching her. Angelique, being an experienced and knowledgeable witch, could possibly shed light on the mysterious ingredients and the purpose of the spell.

"Hello?" Angelique's voice came through the phone. Y/N wasted no time and launched into an explanation.

"Hey, Angelique! It's Y/N, you’re on speaker and the guys are here. We're in Seymour, Iowa, and there's some weird witch activity going on here. We suspect someone is collecting ingredients for a powerful spell or ritual."

Intrigued, Angelique listened carefully, "Go on."

Y/N proceeded to read off the list of ingredients they had gathered so far—mandrake root, vervain, raven feathers, black salt, and moonflower petals. Each word she uttered carried a sense of wonder and puzzlement, hoping Angelique might recognize the combination.

After a moment of silence, Angelique responded, her voice serious and contemplative, "Hmm, that's quite an interesting mix of ingredients. Mandrake root and vervain are often used in protection spells, while raven feathers symbolize transformation. Black salt is for warding off negative energies, and moonflower petals can enhance psychic abilities. It's not a common combination, and without further information, it's hard to pinpoint the exact spell."

As Angelique pondered further over the list of ingredients Y/N had provided, her expression shifted from curiosity to concern. She read off the initial purposes for each component—the protection spells, transformation, warding, and enhancement of psychic abilities. But then, as her keen witch's intuition kicked in, she noticed a dark undertone associated with the vervain.

Her mind raced, connecting the dots between the ingredients and the history of the area. There were whispers of witches who had once practiced dark arts and rituals that involved raising the dead. As this understanding settled in, Angelique's voice became more urgent as she continued her explanation to Y/N.

"Y/N, listen carefully. The combination of ingredients you mentioned, particularly the vervain, hints at something far darker than we initially thought. Considering the history of Seymour and the potential intentions behind the spell, I'm almost certain the witch is trying to raise someone from the dead."

Y/N's eyes widened with a mix of shock and concern. The gravity of the situation was sinking in, and she knew they had to act quickly. "Raising the dead?”

“Listen, Resurrection spells are incredibly powerful and can disturb the natural balance. The witch must have a black candle on their altar, a symbol of the void that connects the realms of life and death. If they succeed in this ritual, the consequences could be disastrous."

Y/N's focus was sharp as she listened intently to Angelique's warning about the black candle. The gravity of the situation settled in her mind as she processed the potential consequences of such a dark spell. With determination in her voice, Y/N asked the important question, "Alright, so the candle is probably at their altar at their house?"

Y/N turned her attention to Sam, knowing that his research skills were invaluable in situations like this. With a look of hopefulness in her eyes, she asked, "Sam, do any of the articles mention the person who has been causing trouble?"

Before Sam could respond verbally, his fingers were already dancing across his keyboard, searching for any relevant information. The atmosphere in the Impala was filled with a mix of anticipation and urgency as they awaited Sam's findings.

"Got something," he said, his voice filled with determination. “Rebecca Thomson was caught on camera fleeing the salt incident. She's lived there for years, but hardly anyone ever sees her in town. She keeps to herself and avoids contact with others."

“Has she lost anyone close to her recently?” Y/N asked Sam.

“Her husband passed about 3 months ago, he was buried in the town cemetery.” Sam would explain to the others.

“Sound’s like our witch!” Dean would nod as he spoke.

Y/N's heart sank as she realized the pain that the witch must have endured after losing her husband just three months ago. The grief could have been the catalyst for Agnes seeking to resurrect him through dark magic. Y/N would sigh heavily.

Sam glanced back at Y/N, reading her unspoken thoughts written on her face.

Sam nodded in agreement. "It's understandable, but we can't let her go down this dark path. It could have severe consequences for everyone."

Y/N took a deep breath, preparing herself mentally for what was to come. "So, the graveyard where her husband is buried... That's where we'll find her?"

Sam nodded. "It's likely. She might be visiting his grave so to be there when he raises."

Dean's sudden change in demeanor caught both Sam and Y/N off guard. Sam glanced out the windshield, taking note of the rapidly approaching storm. The air grew heavy with tension as lightning continued to illuminate the darkening sky.

"Alright then, Sam and I will head to the graveyard, Y/N head to her house and see if you can’t find this candle. We’ll put an end to this before it gets worse."

Sam watched the unnatural storm overhead as they pulled into town, concern etched on his face. "Y/N, be careful. We don't know what we're dealing with here. If things get too dangerous, don't hesitate to call for backup."

"I've got this, Sam. Just focus on stopping the witch at the graveyard. We'll regroup afterward." Y/N was also intrigued but the magically enhanced clouds overhead.

"Alright, let's move. Time is running out." Dean parked the car with a jolt. With a sense of urgency, they all exited the Impala, each heading toward their assigned tasks. Dean and Sam rushed toward the direction of the graveyard, leaving Y/N to tackle the mission at the witch's house.

As Y/N made her way towards the house, she could feel the energy in the air intensify. The wind howled, leaves rustled, and the scent of rain permeated the atmosphere. It was as if the elements themselves were stirred by the impending clash between light and darkness.

Approaching the witch's house, Y/N steeled herself, knowing that she had to act swiftly. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing for what she might encounter inside.

Entering the house, the air felt heavy, as if it held the remnants of the witch's dark magic. Y/N's heart raced, but she pushed forward, determined to locate the black candle and disrupt the witch's plans.

Room by room, Y/N searched diligently, her senses on high alert. Every creak of the floorboards and flicker of shadow intensified her focus. Finally, in a dimly lit room at the back of the house, she discovered the altar adorned with various items, including the ominous black candle.

Y/N approached the altar cautiously, mindful of the power it contained. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and carefully extinguished the flame. As the black candle's dark magic dissipated, Y/N felt a surge of relief and a renewed sense of purpose.

But just as she turned to leave, a chilling voice echoed through the room. "You shouldn't have interfered."

Y/N's heart raced as she spun around, only to find the witch standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with anger and determination. It was a showdown between light and dark, and Y/N knew she had to stand her ground.

"I won't let you raise the dead," Y/N said, her voice steady despite the fear that coursed through her veins. "There's always another way to find closure."

The witch's laughter filled the room, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. But she held her ground, ready to protect the innocent and ensure that the dark magic was thwarted.

As the storm raged outside, the battle of wills unfolded inside the witch's house. Y/N's determination, paired with her newfound understanding of the witch's grief, became her strength in the face of darkness.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam faced their own witch in the graveyard. But with their skills, they fought valiantly, determined to put an end to the witch's dangerous intentions.

The battles raged on in separate confrontations, each group unaware of the other's encounter with the witches. Y/N stood her ground against the daughter, desperately attempting to reach her humanity.

"Please, you have to stop this," Y/N pleaded, her voice laced with urgency. "The spell won't bring him back. It will only bring more pain and darkness."

The daughter's eyes burned with a mixture of grief and anger as she raised her hands, channeling her dark powers. "You don't understand my pain! I won't let him go!"

Y/N's heart sank as she realized that reasoning with the daughter was futile. With a heavy heart and a determined spirit, she reluctantly took action, engaging in a fierce battle to defeat the young witch. The clash of magic and physical blows echoed through the house, each strike carrying the weight of the daughter's desperation and Y/N's determination to protect the innocent.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam faced off against the formidable mother witch, their own fight testing their skills and resilience. They fought with relentless determination, countering the mother with their own arsenal of weapons. The air crackled with energy as the hunters and the witch clashed, the room vibrating with their struggle.

As Y/N's battle reached its climax, her final strike broke through the daughter's defenses, bringing an end to the young witch's life. In that instant, a surge of energy pulsed through the house, severing the bond between mother and daughter.

The dark storm that had engulfed the area suddenly dissipated, replaced by calm and tranquility. The oppressive atmosphere lifted, and the house returned to its normal state, free from the taint of dark magic.

However, the mother witch, sensing the loss of her daughter and the crumbling of her spell, took advantage of the chaos and managed to escape, vanishing into the night but not before one final spell.

Breathing heavily, Y/N took a moment to collect herself, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. She had done what was necessary, but the weight of the consequences settled upon her shoulders.

Y/N took a moment to compose herself, her eyes lingering on the family photos adorning the walls. The reminders of happier times only emphasized the tragedy that had unfolded. Just as she was about to leave the room, her phone suddenly rang, its sound cutting through the silence.

Startled, Y/N quickly retrieved her phone from her pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Dean's name flashed on the screen, and she wasted no time in answering the call.

"Dean," Y/N greeted, her voice filled with a mix of relief and concern. "The witch was here. I believe she was the daughter."

Dean's voice came through the phone, filled with urgency. "Yeah, the mother got away. Listen, you know that shady motel we passed on the way in, meet me there. We've got a situation."

Y/N's heart raced, her worry intensifying at Dean's words. She knew that if Dean deemed it necessary something serious must have occurred.

"Understood," Y/N replied, her voice steady despite the underlying anxiety. "I'm on my way.”

The call ended, and Y/N wasted no time in rushing out of the house. Her mind raced with possibilities, her concern for the safety of Dean and Sam consuming her thoughts. She hurriedly made her way to the Impala, her footsteps echoing with a mix of determination and trepidation.

As she approached the iconic black car, her eyes scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. She couldn't help but worry about what awaited her, praying that the situation hadn't taken a turn for the worse. Just as she was about to call out their names, the door of the nearby motel swung open, revealing Dean standing at the entrance. He waved her over, gesturing for her to come inside.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N approached the motel room, her steps cautious yet eager. Dean closed the door behind her, creating a sense of privacy. Inside Y/N was greeted by a small boy, no older than seven years old. His innocent eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked up at her.

"Hello," the boy greeted, his voice filled with warmth and friendliness.

Caught off guard by the unexpected encounter, Y/N stumbled over her words for a moment. She crouched down to the boy's level, a mix of surprise and curiosity etched on her face.

"Well, hello there," Y/N finally managed to respond, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "What's your name?"

The boy's smile grew wider as he proudly announced, "I'm Samuel, but my dad and brother call me Sammy."

Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat. The significance of the name and the boy's familiarity hit her like a wave. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"Sammy," Y/N repeated, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and wonder. "What's your last name, Sammy?"

The boy's smile remained, and he proudly declared, "Winchester."

Y/N slowly straightened herself up, her mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions. She turned to face Dean, her eyes filled with disbelief and confusion. The words she wanted to shout at him came out as a barely audible whisper.

"Dean!"

Dean, standing just behind Y/N, nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“I know.” his expression mirroring the weight of the situation.

Y/N struggled to find her voice, her mind racing with a multitude of questions.

“How?” She managed to utter a few fragmented words.

“I don’t know.” Dean sighed heavily, his frustration evident. He shook his head, his brows furrowed in uncertainty.

“Does he?” Y/N's voice was still a hushed whisper.

“No, he does not.” Dean's response was filled with resignation.

Suddenly, the small child, Sammy, chimed in with a curious question. "Are you Dean's girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting back and forth between the innocent face of the child and Dean's frustrated expression. She stumbled over her words, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What!?" Y/N exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and confusion.

Dean, growing increasingly frustrated, grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her towards the door. He glanced back at the child, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"Hey, just wait here for a moment, okay? I need to talk to her in private," Dean instructed the young boy.

As Dean and Y/N stepped out of the motel room, Dean closed the door behind them, ensuring their conversation remained confidential.

"I can't believe this," Y/N finally managed to find her voice though still filled with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

Dean's voice dripped with anger as he looked directly at Y/N, his frustration palpable. "Look, I need you to just watch after Sam, alright?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Something like this happened to me once, and I already got the ingredients from Angelique for the reversal."

Y/N felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her as she tried to process the rapid progression of events. Confusion etched across her face as she struggled to comprehend Dean's intentions. "But why don't we all go together? It would make performing the reversal spell quicker," she suggested.

Dean's eyes hardened, and he swiftly dismissed Y/N's idea. "No!" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "You and Sam need to head back to the bunker while I go get what we need. It's not up for discussion."

Y/N's laughter bubbled up nervously, discomfort creeping into her voice. "Dean, I can't… This… Sam and I, we..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words to express how uncomfortable the situation made her.

Before she could finish her thought, Dean interrupted her, his anger intensifying. "Yeah, I know what happened between you and Sam," he spat, his words told Y/N that he knew more than he should know.

Y/N's feelings quickly shifted from discomfort to confusion as she confronted Dean with her realization. "Wait, Is... Is that why you hate me so much?" Her voice quivered as she posed the question.

Dean rolled his eyes, his anger mounting as he struggled to find the right words. "I don't hate you, Y/N," he snapped, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's just... how I am, alright?"

Determined, Y/N stepped forward, her eyes locked with Dean's as she spoke with conviction. "No, Dean. No, this isn't just how you are," she asserted. "This is how you feel about me. Because this isn't how you are with Angelique, or Charlie, or Jody, or anyone else. You avoid eye contact, you hate being alone together, and you're always pushing me away."

Dean's frustration mingled with a pang of guilt as he struggled to respond. "You don't understand, Y/N," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "It's complicated."

Y/N's voice gained strength as she held her ground, refusing to back down. "No, it’s not. You hate me because I accepted Sam's offer for help, you just don’t want to admit it.” Y/N took a deep breath before practically growling at Dean. “I didn't just use him as a meal, I’m not a monster, Dean!"

Dean snapped in that instance, took hold of Y/N by the front of her shirt, and slammed her against the motel door that led to their room.

“YOU don't get to tell me what you are after you fed off my brother's SOUL!” Dean yelled in Y/N’s face. Both Dean and Y/N stared directly into each other's eyes searching for some kind of answer to an unknown question. After several uninterrupted moments of silence, Dean's breathing began to calm.

Dean's jaw remained clenched, his inner turmoil evident as he fought to control his emotions. Slowly he loosened his grip on Y/N knowing he needed to tread carefully, especially for Sam's sake. After a long, tense pause, Dean finally spoke his gaze on the ground now.

"I can't do this right now, alright? I can't have... HIM around me right now." Dean’s voice strained.

Y/N's eyes widened with confusion, searching Dean's face for answers. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "What do you mean?"

Dean took a deep breath, his words forced through gritted teeth as he made an effort to convey the depth of his feelings.

"Right now, Sam is about 7 years old," he explained. "He doesn't know ANYTHING about what we do or the world we actually live in. He recognizes me as his brother, but still thinks Dad is in town somewhere, selling things for work."

The weight of Dean's revelation hit Y/N like a heavy blow, her heart sinking lower than she thought possible. The magnitude of the situation began to sink in, and Y/N's voice trembled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief, she leaned his head back against the door as she asked, "So... you mean that... that Sam is still 100% pure?"

Dean nodded solemnly, his eyes filled with a mixture of protectiveness and sorrow. It was a heavy burden to bear, knowing the harsh realities of their lives while Sam remained innocent and unaware.

"Yeah," he confirmed quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "Sam, right now, is untouched by the craps we’ve been through."

The realization hung heavily in the air, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Y/N felt a surge of both empathy and sadness, understanding the tremendous weight that Dean carried as he tried to shield Sam from their harsh reality.

“Dean, what if… what if we don’t reverse the spell? Then Sam can grow up normal right?” Y/N's voice trembled with uncertainty as she voiced her question, her eyes avoiding direct contact with Dean's gaze. But Y/N knew that he had already considered the possibilities and weighed the options. The silence hung heavy between them, as both of them understood the unspoken answer.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N gathered her resolve. "Alright, Dean. It's about 6 or 7 hours until Kansas from here. I'll make arrangements to get us on the next bus and meet you at the Bunker. Just... don't take too long, okay? And, keep in touch."

Dean took a deep breath, trying to compose himself after the intense confrontation with Y/N. He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of frustration and concern etched on his face as he glanced down at the list of items in his hand.

As Y/N slowly picked herself up from the impact against the door, a small voice broke the tension in the room. The door to their motel room creaked open, revealing the young child version of Sam standing in the doorway, innocence radiating from his eyes.

The child, unaware of the previous altercation, innocently asked, "Are you guys done fighting?" His voice was filled with genuine curiosity and a desire for peace.

Dean's gaze softened as he approached the young Sam, crouching down to be at eye level with him. He placed a hand on the child's shoulder, a mix of affection and protectiveness evident in his touch.

Dean replied with a gentle smile, "Yeah, sorry about that, Sammy. But hey, Y/N here is going to take you home while I go... wrangle in Dad, alright? You can trust her, so do as she says, okay?"

Sam's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at Y/N, he moved closer to Dean. "But I want to stay with you, Dean." Sam protested softly, his childlike innocence longing for the comfort and familiarity of his older brother.

Dean's expression softened further, a mixture of love and sadness in his eyes. He spoke with a tender reassurance, "I know ya do Sammy. But right now, it's important that you go with Y/N. She'll keep you safe, just like I would. We'll be together again soon, I promise."

Sam hesitated for a moment, processing Dean's words. With a small nod, he reluctantly took a step towards Y/N, offering her a smile just like when he first met her moments ago.

Dean stood up, watching the interaction between Y/N and young Sam, a mix of emotions playing across his face. He knew the weight of the decision he had made, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of both relief and worry for what lay ahead.

With a final reassuring smile, Dean said, "Take care of him, Y/N. I'll see you both soon." As he headed to the Impala and drove off, watching the two in the rearview.

Y/N and young Sam managed to make it to the local bus station just in time to catch the last ride for the night. As they settled into their seats, the bus engine roared to life, and the vehicle began to move, taking them on their journey.

Young Sam, full of energy and curiosity, looked out the window as he was taking in the changing scenery as they passed by. His eyes widened with wonder, and he couldn't help but ask Y/N a question that had been on his mind.

"Y/N, are you sure you aren't dating my brother?"

Y/N chuckled at the unexpected question, finding the innocence and honesty of young Sam endearing. She turned to face him with a soft smile and replied.

"Oh, I'm very sure, Sammy. Actually, I'm pretty sure your brother hates me." Y/N couldn't help but find humor in the situation, her smile growing wider at the absurdity of it all.

Young Sam looked puzzled for a moment, trying to process Y/N's response.

"Why would Dean hate you?" he asked with genuine confusion, not understanding the complexities of the situation.

Y/N sat next to young Sammy, her heart warming at his innocent curiosity. She did her best to answer his questions honestly while treading carefully with her words.

"Well, Sammy, I did something a while back that your brother doesn't agree with, and it makes him mad," she explained with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, that sounds like Dean," young Sammy chuckled in response.

Curiosity burning in his eyes, young Sammy continued to inquire.

"How long have you known my brother?"

Y/N paused for a moment, considering her response before replying, "I think it's been about five or six months, give or take a little.”

“How did you two meet?”

“At work.” Y/N was beginning to wonder how long this would last. but before he could ask another, Y/N playfully beat him to the punch.

"What's with the twenty-question game here, huh?" she teased with a playful grin. "I'm sure Dean will tell you everything you want to know when he gets back."

Sammy let out an exasperated groan, his frustration evident.

"Dean doesn't tell me anything," he confessed with a hint of annoyance. "They treat me like a child."

Y/N's expression softened as she saw the genuine disappointment in young Sammy's eyes. She placed a comforting hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair.

"I'm sure Dean doesn't mean to keep things from you, Sammy. Sometimes, big brothers can be a bit overprotective, but it's only because they care about you so much."

Sammy looked up at her, his eyes seeking reassurance.

"Really?" he asked with a touch of hope.

"Absolutely," Y/N replied with a warm smile. "Your brother loves you more than anything in the world, and sometimes, he just wants to keep you safe and shield you from some of the harsher things out there."

Sammy seemed to ponder her words for a moment, and then he nodded, accepting her explanation.

"I guess that makes sense," he said, a small smile forming on his face. Y/N pulled the small boy under her arm and against her side while rubbing his arm.

As the bus journey continued, Y/N and young Sammy continued to chat.

The journey home had been long and exhausting, taking Y/N and young Sam a total of 6 hours to reach the town and an additional hour to finally arrive at the bunker. The sun had set, and darkness enveloped the surroundings. Y/N stepped out of the pickup truck they had hired for the final stretch of their journey. She paid the driver and thanked him again, ensuring that he understood she wanted to be left at this spot. Y/N gently pulled a sleeping young Sam out of the vehicle as well and watched the truck drive off.

Carrying the sleepy young boy in her arms, Y/N made her way down the stairs leading to the bunker's entrance hall. As they reached the bottom, young Sam stirred and groaned sleepily. Y/N gently set him down on the couch in the living area of the bunker.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "I can make some food real quick."

Young Sam rubbed his eyes and nodded drowsily.

"Yeah, I'm kinda hungry," he mumbled.

"Alright, just give me a few minutes, and I'll whip up something for you," she reassured him with a warm smile and patted his head. Y/N headed towards the kitchen area of the bunker, the dim lights casting a comforting glow.

As she prepared a simple meal, Y/N's mind couldn't help but wander back to her conversation with Dean. She knew he was dealing with his own inner turmoil and struggling with the situation at hand. Y/N understood that Dean's anger and protectiveness were driven by his love for his brother, but she also worried about what this meant for her..

Deep in thought, Y/N focused on cooking spaghetti with sausage meat sauce for young Sam. The aroma of food filled the bunker as she finished preparing the meal. Placing a plate in front of young Sam, Y/N smiled at him.

"Here you go, something warm to fill your belly," she said gently.

Young Sam looked up at her, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Thanks, Y/N," he said, the trust in his eyes evident.

Y/N ruffled his hair affectionately.

"You're welcome, Sammy. Now eat up," she encouraged him.

As young Sam enjoyed his meal, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility as they sat at the table talking, laughing, and eating together. Sam would even comment on how Y/N’s cooking was better than his brothers, a secret they promised to keep between each other.

The heavy metal door of the bunker swung open, and the sound reverberated through the halls. Dean's voice echoed as he called out to Y/N and Sam while descending the stairs.

"Hey, I'm back," he announced, his tone serious. Dean entered the kitchen area. “Where is Sam?”

Y/N turned her attention away from the dishes she was washing and looked at Dean with a hint of annoyance.

"Hi, welcome home, dear. How was your day?" she replied sarcastically.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he asked, not fully understanding Y/N's response.

With a tired sigh, Y/N explained, "I just put Sam to bed. He's passed out. Did you find everything you needed?"

Dean's expression softened as he realized what she meant.

"Yeah, it took longer than I thought, but I finally got it all," he replied.

Y/N nodded and said, "Good. Well, let me know if you need any help. Otherwise, I left a plate out for you." She motioned to the table where a plate of spaghetti covered with cling wrap sat, waiting for Dean.

Dean paused for a moment feeling conflicted "Right, um.. thanks. I'm.. I’m going to go get this prepped and give it to Sam while he sleeps. Hopefully, this whole thing will just seem like a bad dream when he wakes up," Dean said, determination in his voice.

As Y/N stood in the kitchen, her mind was flooded with conflicting emotions. Watching Dean walk off to take care of young Sam, she couldn't help but feel a sense of heartache at the thought of Sam having to return to a world filled with darkness and danger. His innocent eyes turning dark once more weighed heavily on her heart.

At the same time, a part of Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of normalcy she experienced while spending time with the young boy. The laughter, the curiosity, the innocence—it was a refreshing break from the constant battles they faced as hunters. For a moment, she allowed herself to smile, cherishing the simplicity of that evening.

But amidst her mixed emotions, Y/N felt a growing sense of uncertainty and fear. She knew that with the reversal of the spell, things would change between her and the Winchester brothers. The truths they had buried, the unspoken feelings, the unresolved conflicts—they would all resurface, and the road ahead seemed daunting.

Y/N's smile faded as she contemplated the challenges ahead. It wasn't that she didn't want Sam to regain his true identity as the caring man she knew, but she feared what it would mean for their already complicated relationship. The thought of facing hurt, anger, and the potential for more fights weighed heavily on her mind.

At that moment, the idea of leaving crossed her mind. It felt like an escape, a way to avoid the pain and uncertainty that lay ahead.

The next morning, as the sun began to rise, Dean slowly woke from his slumber and sluggishly made his way into the kitchen. As he stood in the doorway, he was met with a surprising sight. The table before him was filled with a feast of delicious food—eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, hash browns, fruit, and a fresh pot of coffee. It was a spread that would have put a smile on anyone's face.

Dean's eyes scanned the kitchen, half-expecting to see his brother Sam cooking up a storm. However, he was met with the sight of Y/N instead. She stood near the stove, working on placing a few more pancakes on the table. Dean walked over to the table, still feeling a bit groggy, and couldn't help but ask, "What's all this?"

Y/N turned towards him, a hint of forced cheerfulness in her voice.

"Well, I didn't know if we would have young Sam or adult Sam this morning, so I figured what the hell—we will either celebrate or eat our stress away." She half-heartedly joked, attempting to force a laugh, but it was clear that there was more going on beneath the surface.

Dean studied her for a moment, not easily fooled by her act. He could sense that something was off.

"You never went to bed last night, did you?"

Y/N paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on the stove as she turned it off. She finally turned to face Dean, the facade of strength slipping away, and quietly admitted, "No." Her eyes reflected the exhaustion she felt, both physically and emotionally.

Silence lingered in the kitchen until Sam's voice suddenly broke the stillness.

"Morning," he said quietly, stepping further into the room. Dean turned to look at his brother, a mix of relief evident in his expression. Without hesitation, Dean walked over to Sam and pulled him into a tight hug, patting him a few times on the back. Sam returned the hug, but he didn't say anything, his emotions still a whirlwind after his recent ordeal.

Y/N watched the brothers reunite, a bittersweet feeling settling within her. She was glad that Sam was back to his normal self, but the weight of the past night's events still bore down on her. As she turned away, about to leave the room.

“Y/N, wait.” Sam's voice called to her.

She turned around just in time to find herself enveloped in Sam's arms, his embrace pulling her close against his chest. The warmth of his hug was comforting, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within her. With a deep breath, Sam said, "Thank you.”

“Sam, I didn’t….” Y/N began to explain it was Dean who did all the work for the reversal spell.

“I remember everything.” Sam cut her off. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his words. She hadn't expected him to remember, and her heart skipped a beat. It was a lot to process, and she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. Sam continued to hold her, his gratitude evident in his embrace.

Finally finding her voice, Y/N whispered, "You remember... everything?"

Sam nodded, his eyes meeting hers with newfound clarity. "Yeah," he confirmed, a hint of wonder in his tone as he pulled away from her.

Dean, who had been quietly observing the exchange, approached them both. "That's good, Sammy," he said, smiling warmly at his brother trying to play off the hurt he felt watching his brother thank Y/N. "We were worried about you."

Dean noticed the hurt in Sam's eyes, and his confusion grew. He knew his brother was still processing the rush of memories that had returned, but he didn't expect this reaction.

"What, Sam?" Dean asked, genuinely concerned.

Sam hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts and find the right words to express himself. His emotions were evident on his face, and his jaw tightened, his nose flared. Finally, Sam managed to say, "Dean, can I see you in the other room for a moment? Now?"

Dean's brows furrowed further, but he nodded, understanding the need for privacy. He glanced at Y/N, who had been quietly observing the scene. With a concerned look, Dean followed Sam to a more secluded area of the bunker.

Once they were alone, Dean closed the door behind them and turned to face his brother.

"Alright, Sam, what's going on?" he asked, giving his brother his full attention.

The air in the bunker felt tense as Sam confronted Dean about his actions with Y/N. Sam's eyes were filled with disappointment and hurt as he recounted what he had witnessed through the motel window.

"Dean, I saw you and Y/N through the window at the motel," Sam began, his voice serious. "I heard what you said to her."

But Sam wasn't willing to let him off the hook so easily.

"You pinned her to the wall, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, his voice rising with frustration.

Dean's shoulders slumped as he realized there was no defense for what he had done. He knew he had crossed a line, but in that moment of anger, he couldn't control himself.

"I appreciate you getting the spell for me, I really do, man," Sam began, his voice softening. "But this has to stop. Even after everything you did and said, she STILL took care of me when you asked her to…. More than you know."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, genuinely curious about what his brother was trying to say.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express himself.

"It was like... it felt like... what I imagine having mom around would have been like," he finally said, his voice tinged with emotion.

“Dude…” Dean’s face twisted as he became grossed out by the thought.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s reaction.

“She was warm, loving, caring. She talked to me like I was an actual person not just some kid, let me lean against her to sleep, cooked dinner for me. A real dinner Dean. We laughed and she even made sure I got to bed. All the things that I didn't get to experience with Mom.”

Dean still shook his head, trying to not let the weird thoughts in. “Dude come on you've slept with her."

“Dean you are missing the point! Yes, we slept in the same bed, but nothing happened. We didn't... You know, not really." Sam sighed again.

“The point is that you need to get over yourself because whether you believe it or not we are better with her around and you are going to be the reason she leaves.” Sam paused. “And I don’t know if I can forgive you for that.”

Silence fell among the two brothers just before Sam turned to leave Dean with that thought.

Sam sighed as he walked into the kitchen, his mind still preoccupied with the conversation he just had with his brother. He had left Dean in the other room to give them both some space to process everything that had happened. As he looked around the kitchen, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness.

"Y/N?" Sam called out, half-hoping she would magically appear, but there was no response. His eyes then caught a piece of paper on the table, and he picked it up with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Sam's heart sank as he read Y/N's note.

"No, no, no," Sam muttered to himself, crumpling the note in his hands with frustration. He had grown attached to Y/N during their time together, and the thought of her leaving hurt more than he anticipated. Sam sank into one of the kitchen chairs, his head in his hands, trying to process the sudden turn of events. A wave of sadness washed over him.

Dean emerged from the other room to find Sam sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Concern etched on his face, he approached his brother.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked, worried.

Sam didn’t look up, frustration and disappointment clear in his eyes. He held out the crumpled note to Dean.

"She's gone, Dean. Y/N left," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

Dean unfolded the note and read its contents.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't stay and be the reason for your fights. I'll always care about you and Sam, but it's just too much. Take care." Dean's jaw tightened as he read the words.

He looked back at Sam, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Dammit," he muttered. "I'll go find her," he said firmly, wanting to make things right.

Dean headed up the stairs, determined to find Y/N and talk things through with her. As he reached the bunker's main door, he threw it open without hesitation and charged ahead.

Meanwhile, Sam remained at the table, his mind filled with worry and uncertainty. He stared at the feast Y/N had prepared for them, the food now feeling bittersweet in light of her sudden departure. He couldn't help but replay the moments they had spent together in his mind, the warmth and care Y/N had shown him. It was clear that she had touched his heart in a way he hadn't expected.

Sam found himself lost in thought, unsure of what the future held. All he could do was hope that they would find a way to mend things with Y/N and that she would be willing to give them another chance.

End Chapter

#supernatural #fanfic #supernatural fanfic #Dean x OFC x Sam #dean winchester #Fluff #Sam Winchester #Hurt/Comfort #Reader-Insert #Illness #Self-Insert #Angst #Kitsune #injuries #Dean x Reader X Sam #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #Trauma #Young Sam Winchester #Hurt Dean Winchester

6 notes · View notes

topofmythighs · 2 years

Text

“choose a kiss” prompt list!

sam n dean winchester

hello kiss read “the troubles of lovin’” here

after long periods apart, spinning them around, fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, breathless laughs when they finally come up for air

breathless kiss read “stanford sweater” here

a series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need the air, sometimes smiles come in between, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again

heated kiss

heavy breathing, angrily or passionate, hands gripping clothes, fingers tangled in hair, pulling each other closer

first kiss read “an angel in hy-vee” here

hesitant and nervous, lips hovering inches away from each other for a few seconds before they barely brush, a soft press that ignites your entire bodies, fingers intertwining afterwards, soft smiles

in the dark kiss

nothing else matters, not even sight, knowing exactly where they are without even seeing, hands running up and down bodies and slow, lazy kisses everywhere

—

send me a request ! include what prompt you want written, sam or dean, what winchester era you want, and what pronouns you’d like me to use!

love you

48 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year

Text

In Living Color

Okay, so I've learned that the pic above is actually a stunning piece of digital art by @pompei77-bonny.

Summary: Y/N never knew how much color existed in the world till a green-eyed hunter stumbled into her path.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Implied smut. Kissing. Dean's hands very briefly up a skirt. Dean on a motorcycle. Dean in leather. Dean being an absolute 1950s smoke show! Slight AU!Dean. He's still a hunter, but he's a hunter in the '50s.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 1,436

A/N: So, this challenge by the lovely @impala-dreamer immediately called this scenario to mind.

The amazing Melissa Ethridge song, "I'm the Only One" has always conjured up pure rebellion in my mind. I'm not sure why, maybe it's just the absolute rock goddess purity in Melissa's raspy voice, or the idea in the song of just DESPERATELY needing another person. But it's always made me thing of desperation and rebellion.

Then I combined those ideas with the above picture, 🥵🥵 and just a smidge of the 1950s song, Leader of the Pack. Hence, the story being set in the 50s. (And for those who know it, the ending of this story is different from the ending of that song!) Hope you enjoy! 😊

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

It was a sunshine yellow afternoon in Belmont, Massachusetts, and all around Y/N, the graduating class of 1956 droned on - endlessly discussing the senior prom. Dates, dresses and dancing, it was the same conversation her chorus of followers had been having for the last three months.

And a week ago, she’d been droning right along with them; trying to choose between the pale blue or the pale pink for her dress, between Brett Silverman and Steven Parks for her date, two boys who were basically the pale blue and pale pink of people. They were both bland and respectable, and both destined to inherit their fathers’ businesses. She couldn’t go wrong with either.

Then, her whole world had flipped upside down and she’d been introduced to the color red. Red in the eyes of the vengeful spirit that had attacked her one evening on her way home from cheerleading practice, red in the slashes the ghost had scratched into her cheek, and a red haze of terror as she opened her mouth to scream and no sound came out.

And then came green.

Green like a jewel, like jade, no like an emerald, like soft moss, like lush fields. Green that lit a fire in her belly and an ache in her heart.

He appeared with a gunshot, banishing the spirit with no more than salt, “but not forever”, he’d warned as he grabbed up her hand and tugged her along after him. The moment flew past in a heartbeat, but she could pull apart every second, turn each tiny memory over in her mind.

The vision of him appearing through the smoke of the vanishing ghost, the fierceness in his bright green eyes as he scanned her briefly looking for more injuries, the feel of his fingers grasping hers, rough calluses scratching her pampered skin. She remembered running behind him, blindly trusting him; in a world that was quickly crashing down around her ears, his bulky strength was a haven.

She remembered the smell of leather from his jacket, the spicy scent that hit her when he yanked her against his chest as he hid them around a corner, even the way his hand felt pressed against her lips as he silenced her predicted scream.

The danger had passed, the ghost screeching into oblivion in a flash of orange and yellow flame.

And she’d been left with green.

He didn’t mean to stay, she didn’t expect him to. He’d explained the impossible situation she’d found herself in, promising that his father had banished the ghost for good by burning its bones far away from the school.

Then he’d planned to walk away, but something had called him back, made him linger. Something made him confide in her, and something made her trust him enough to tell him things she’d never told another living soul. It made them ignore the call of their lives and spend a handful of idyllic days together, just learning each other.

Something had connected them from the first moment, and it was something bright and shining that neither of them wanted to let go of, but something they were both terrified was ending.

“My dad’s pissed,” Dean had said the night before, and his green eyes were shadowed with doubt and uncertainty, “he’s waiting for me to meet him tomorrow, I was supposed to be there days ago. My little brother misses me, I need to be there to take care of him.”

He stepped up to her, pressing her against the brick wall of the high school he’d attended for no more than a couple weeks, the high school that, until a few days earlier, had made up the entirety of her whole world. Now the bricks felt cold compared to the warmth emanating from the boy in front of her.

The boy that had so recently become a man, barely eighteen, the boy who was so rash and impulsive, the boy that made her heart race and her blood pump like no one ever had, the boy that made her rethink her entire life.

“I can’t stay, but…” He raised his big palm to her cheek and lowered his lips to hers briefly, gently, before pulling back. “...but come with me.”

She actually laughed, and then wanted to cry when she saw the brief flash of hurt cross his features. She pulled him back to kiss away the wound she’d given him.

“Dean,” she breathed against his lips, “You have no idea how much I want to, but I mean, I can’t, my…my life is here.”

“What life?” Dean asked with a sardonic lift of his brow and Y/N winced at just how close to home that question hit. “Here, is where your father will quickly march you down the aisle, where you’ll be shoved into a mundane life of dishes and diapers, PTA meetings and Tupperware parties.”

He pulled her close again, letting his hands fall to her waist and pushing his knee between her legs, bunching up her belled skirts and crinoline.

“I saved you once, let me save you again - from tedium and predictability. Come with me, ride with me.”

Y/N shook her head. “What about your father? Won’t he be furious that you just hauled someone along with you?”

Dean clenched his jaw, but shrugged. “Too bad. I’ve been my father’s soldier all my life. I deserve something for myself.” His voice dipped low and he nibbled lightly on her earlobe. “And what I want for myself is you.”

Slipping his hands beneath the swishing cotton and tulle of her skirts Dean skimmed his fingers lightly over the damp satin of her panties. And suddenly Y/N’s world was lit up with color as she cried out in surprise and need.

“God, Y/N, I need you so badly.” Dean said, voice muffled against her neck. He kept his hungry mouth and roaming hands on her for a minute more before he broke away from her, putting distance between them and breathing harshly.

“But I’m not gonna be some asshole who just screws you and takes off.” He ran a hand over his face. “So, come with me now, tonight. Let’s figure out our lives out together.”

Y/N felt cold with him stepped away from her and she wished he’d come back. A part of her mind was screaming for her to leap into his arms, but the other part was terrified at all the unknown that lay in that black space between them - and the fear was louder.

So they’d walked away from each other last night, and Y/N knew she would forever remember his crooked smile and the way his teary green eyes made her think of rainy forests..

And now the world around her was dull, like a watercolor painting bleached by the sun, and she didn’t know how to color her world again, but she knew it wasn’t with pale boys and cupcake dresses.

Then suddenly, in the distance, she could hear the dirty brown roar of a motorcycle engine and she jumped up from where she sat on the grass. Fireworks of silver and gold exploded in her mind as Dean skidded to a halt thirty feet away. He sat revving the engine from the parking lot and staring towards her.

She started walking and ended up running. She heard her name being called by the people she used to know, but she never stopped, not until she stood barely a foot from him.

Encased in a black leather jacket and tight black jeans, with thick black boots resting on the rear brake pedal, Dean held out a helmet which Y/N took into her hands; the shiny blue metal was warm from the sun.

He shrugged. “Thought I’d try one more time. I’m stubborn like that.”

His smile was teasing, but there was a hitch in it that made Y/N sure she was doing the right thing as she leapt onto the bike behind him.

“Just don’t let it go to your head that, apparently, I can’t say no to you.”

He turned back to look at her as she clicked the helmet strap under her chin, his grin mischievous and wicked.

“Just wait till we get to the motel tonight, I fully intend to put that trait to good use.”

Y/N laughed breathlessly in anticipation as she wrapped her arms tightly around Dean’s waist as they surged forward. Their future was uncertain, but Y/N was happy to leave black and white behind her and begin to exist in living color.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@deans-spinster-witch

@impalaslytherin

@maggiegirl17

@akshi8278

@candy-coated-misery0731

@nt-multi-fandom

@deanswaywardgirl

@slytherinlyn314

@globetrotter28

@jensensgirl

@perpetualabsurdity

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@djs8891

@muhahaha303

@kayyay1219

@emily-winchester

@recoveringpastaaddict

@mimaria420

@sacriceria

@envyaurora95

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only.

@saikosheadcanons

@lgranger67

@carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

@alexxavicry

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

@supernatural4life2022

@spn730015

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@kickingitwithkirk

@waywardbaby

@foxyjwls007

@deanwanddamons

@deandreamernp

@deanwithscissors

@myloversgone

@snowlovespie

@leigh70

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world

@mysherlock221b

@jensensgotyoudean

@stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies

@magssteenkamp

@norman1967

@princessmisery666

@eevvvaa

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e

@twirpbunwarrior

@mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus

@jensenslady79

@courtn92

@avanatural

@ellie-andthemachine

@this-is-me19

@roseblue373

@katbratsupernaturalwhore

@fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #50s dean #motorcyle!dean #young!dean #dean angst #dean smut #dean fluff

95 notes · View notes

hahahahahangst · 2 years

Text

Matilda (Be The Young 3)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Matilda

Matilda, you talk of the pain like it’s all alright but I know that you feel like a piece of you is dead inside

They had just worked a ghost gig in Colorado and she and Dean were getting ready to leave. The previous weeks had been weird: Sam and Dean had a fight, and the younger decided to leave. While Emily was not too keen on Sam, his presence made things between her and Dean a tiny bit better. Finally having someone who would stop their fights before one of them said something too mean or arrived on the verge of punching the other helped. He also was able to calm down Dean and to talk things out with him, which John could never do. While Sam was away, all the fights he had stopped resurfaced.

“If you wanted to die that much, you could have cut vertically.” was the sentence that finally made Emily snap and punch her brother. She probably hurt herself more than she hurt him, which triggered another fight about how she should be able to punch people without hurting herself.

Sam luckily came back the following day.

“Can I ask you something?” He had asked once he had the chance to be alone with Emily.

“Sure.” She didn’t raise her eyes from her laptop.

“What is going on with you and Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… What’s with the fights? Did something happen when dad was still here?”

“He’s an unaffectionate son of a bitch, that’s what happened.”

They arrived in Hibbing and settled into a local motel. Emily had a friend there and so she made plans to meet him in a bar.

“Don't wait for me tonight, okay? I'm going out.” She said, putting on a dress that was way too revealing to be going out with a friend.

Dean looked at her from a corner of the room, an eyebrow slightly raised. “So this… friend, Mark, right? Is anybody else coming?”

“Dean.” She said, smirking, pointing at her almost completely bare chest. “Does it look like I am going out with a friend…for friendly purposes?” He looked surprised for a second, then he answered. “Oh- I see.”

“Yeah… you see, when two adults like each other-”

“Alright, I got it, no need for the details.” He smirked, hiding behind his laptop.

She was supposed to meet her friend in a bar in the center of the town, but when she arrived in the parking lot, she felt something grabbing her ankle, making her fall and pass out without even having the chance to scream.

When Emily opened her eyes, she felt worse than she had ever felt in a long time. She hit her head hard and she was also 90% sure she had a broken ankle. It took her a while to really put into focus the voices around her.

One of them said something very familiar: “Don’t - call me - Sammy!” Sam sounded like he was struggling as something clanged, falling on the floor. Emily could not see any of that because his cage was positioned behind hers, a thin wall to divide them.

“I’ll be damned-” She muttered, resting her head in the bars behind her. “Sam, what are you doing here?” She said, in between annoyed and relieved.

“I was hunting! What are you doing here?”

“I was just walking in the parking lot.” She said, frustrated. “What about Dean?”

“I don’t know…” A deep silence fell into the dark room. “Are you okay?”

“I think I have a broken ankle.” She said, surprised by the sudden display of worry. “But I will be fine.”

With a clanky sound, one of the cages opened and a guy, which Sam called Jenkins, crawled out, trying to leave the building. Sam tried to warn him that it might be a trap, but he would not listen. The last thing he said before running out the door was a promise of sending help. However, it was not more than 10 seconds until they heard two gunshots, followed by silence.

“So…“ said Emily a couple of seconds later, scared. “Please, Sam, tell me you have a plan.”

“Well…” he trailed off. She took it as a sign of him not having a plan.

“Oh, we are so screwed. You know, all I wanted was one night to just have some sex and forget about how my life sucks for a moment, but no, I guess it was not in the cards, was it.” She said, bitter. “What is it that took us here, anyway?”

“It’s people, Emily.”

”...what?” She said, sure to have misheard him.

“Crazy, murderous, sure… but still regular human beings.”

She did not answer. Never before, since she started hunting, she thought humans could play the antagonist part. If something had to ruin her hook up date, at least it could have been real monsters.

They waited in silence, until the door opened loudly and another prisoner was brought in. A woman. She got thrown in the cage Jenkins used to be in. She came back to her senses around half an hour later.

“Are you alright?” Asked Sam’s voice behind Emily. The new prisoner groaned in pain.

“Are you Sam Winchester? Aren’t you?” She asked. He confirmed his identity and the woman told them Dean was looking for them.

“And where is he now?”

“I…” She hesitated. “I cuffed him to my car…“ There was a hint of regret in her voice as she realized that that small action could have set her up for not being rescued.

Emily let out a groan of anger and frustration, yanking at her chains in an attempt to set free. Just a second later, someone opened the door in front of her. It was Dean.

When he saw her, Dean frowned for one second before turning back into his usual emotionless face. If Emily didn't know any better, she would have said he was worried.

“Emily, what the hell are you doing here?” He started messing with some buttons on the wall. She did not answer the question. “Where’s Sam?” Asked Dean, inspecting the lock on Emily’s cage. .

“I’m here.” Answered Sam from his cage. The second Dean heard Sam’s voice, he moved away from Emily’s cage to move to his. “Have you seen them?”

“Yeah. Dude, they’re just people.”

“And they jumped you?” He smiled, making fun of him. “Must be getting a little rusty there… Now, Emily I can get it, but you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Said Emily, offended after less than 5 minutes in Dean’s presence.

“Now don’t get your pants all twisted, we gotta get you out of here.” He moved back to the entrance, where he started pushing random buttons on a dashboard. “This takes a key.” He said.. He looked around, waiting for one of the prisoners to suddenly take out a key. “Okay.” he said, not getting any responses. “I better go find it.”

“Be careful.” said Sam, while Dean disappeared again behind the door.

“This better be the fucking last time he underestimates me…“ Whispered Emily while struggling with the chains.

Everything went pretty much silent until the door opened again, but this time, it was not Dean. It was a big, hairy and dirty looking guy. He had a key in hand.

He used it in the same slot Dean had pointed to earlier and he opened Sam’s cage. Then, he walked over to him, rifle in his hands. Emily shivered hearing the sound of the weapon cocking. “What are you doing?” Asked Sam, alarmed.

She did not have a plan, Sam did not have a plan, and Dean was nowhere to be found. Emily knew that if they wanted to get out of there, they needed to get more time. And so she did what she did better: she acted like a bitch.

“Hey, asshole, leave my brother alone!” She screamed, directed at the armed guy. There was a second of silence, complete stillness, before the man started walking towards her.

She could hear his footsteps closer and closer.

When he finally reached her, his smell also did. It was pungent and unpleasant, haven’t-showered-or-changed-my-pants-in -weeks unpleasant.

He pointed the rifle at her. “You really need a shower, man.” She said, trying to sound cocky. The man smiled evilly as he aimed at her head.

She stayed silent and stared at the end of the rifle. What a stupid plan.

All of a sudden, the man seemed taken by surprise by something, he lost his balance, hitting himself on the head with the back of the rifle. He hesitated for one second: enough for Emily to jump on top of him and hit him in the face, knocking him out and stealing his weapon.

The noise eventually attracted more people: Emily threw the first guy’s helpless body onto them to slow them down and then backed up to Sam and the other woman, who had escaped out of their cages. Her ankle was screaming in pain and running in the extremely high heels she was wearing made things ten times harder, but she hardly had the time to think about that.

They had to fight, but eventually they all got out of the house. Emily fell to the ground, her ankle refusing to hold her up any longer. . Dena and Sam looked at her from a distance and kept talking.

“So…“ said the woman who was with them in the cages, a little bit later. “State police and the FBI will be here in an hour. I suggest you guys start walking. Duck if you see a squad car.”

Emily found a shovel on the ground and used it as a crutch to walk towards Dean.

“By the way, don't worry about me. I am fine.” She said, sarcastically pointing to her ankle.

“Doesn't look like it.” He answered back, looking at her foot.

“Don't you even think about bringing me to the hospital. I am fine.”

“Okay, tough one,“ he mocked. “Shall we go?”

They started walking towards the motel. By the time they got back, her ankle had swollen up to become blue-ish, and she sat onto Sam's bed, too exhausted to get back to her own room.

“Can I patch you up or am I not up to your standards?” Said Dean, challengingly, while sitting next to her. Her ankle bounced on the mattress, making her hiss in pain. She gestured at him to just go ahead and he passed her a bottle of alcohol.

“What is this for?” She asked, reading the label.

“The pain.“ answered Dean back. Sam, in the meantime, was coming back from the hallway with a whole bag of ice. ”...trust me, you will thank me later. Now chug it.”

She was about to complain to him that there were pain meds that were invented for that, but she figured she was not exactly in a position where she could be a choosing beggar. So she went ahead and chugged it.

Probably too much.

By the time Dean had actually started bandaging her ankle, she didn't feel the pain, but she started giggling, drunk. When he was done, he laid the bag of ice on his ankle and stood up.

“Dean, you are taking care of me!” Said Emily, heavy eyelids and alcohol pumping through her veins. “Come here!” She opened her arms wide, like a kid would do, waiting for Dean to hug her.

He was taken by surprise by that gesture and laughed under his breath before he awkwardly hugged her. He patted her on her back a couple of times before letting go of her. Sam was looking at the scene, amused, from the other bed.

“I guess it's better if you sleep a bit, okay? Tomorrow you'll feel more like yourself again.” Joked Dean, seeing Emily almost falling asleep.

25 notes · View notes