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lenavonschweetz · 10 months

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Hunter Insert

Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.

Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut. It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.

A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics! Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!

You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.

It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school. The tall goober took to you immediately. Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business. He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question. When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father. You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.

They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.

You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing. A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in. You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.

You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.

After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up. It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in. Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had. You even became an incredibly capable hunter. Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started. Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.

And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.

At first, the fans were harmless. There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.

He lied, obviously.

Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.

Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce.

The art was amazing. Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent. But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works. It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once. It even got you to start reading the books!

And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!

Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother. Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.

Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post. Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst. Ship. EVER!”

Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.

What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.

Oh goodness, the fanfiction.

What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!

It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them). You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.

That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.

Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?

And dream you did. Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.

The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped. Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.

Oh.

Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.

----------

The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.

Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.

Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.

Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now. The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.

He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise. A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last. They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.

But Dean snored over all of them.

You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.

“Dee.” You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.

The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.

“Dee!” You snap, louder now. Nothing. “Dean!”

A few moments pass…

Nothing…

Maybe it worked! Maybe-

Yeah, no, there he goes again.

Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone. Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.

You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes. Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic. Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search. It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be? You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.

Dean x reader smut.

Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.

Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile. With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.

You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up. Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room. As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed. As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.

Hell, it’s not even in the bed.

Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours. When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away. Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.

----------

The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.

You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt. He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room. Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building. It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.

Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office. You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it. It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.

Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.

----------

You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam. You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning. Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life. But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.

“You can take the king,” Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier. There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day. “I’ll take the queen.”

You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.

No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep. It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.

Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table. He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more. Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.

You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips. Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.

You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in. Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.

Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result. You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view. It’s sinful, to say the least. You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.

Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet. Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way. His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin. You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.

Wait…

Silent.

You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence. A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.

Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away. Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?” His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.

“Nothing.” You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper. You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain. When had he woken up? When had he snuck up behind you? How much had he read over your shoulder?

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further. When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear. “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”

The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.

He didn’t just say that…did he? You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you. Dean makes comments like that all the time. That’s just how he is with you! Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.

But then he doesn’t laugh with you. Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.

You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…

“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?” He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels. Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded. He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.

Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?” OH MY GOD, you mentally scream. Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??

But then what if he didn’t? Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had. That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom. The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!

“You read that!?” You screech, gripping your phone tighter. You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue. “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!” Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.

He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.

“Maybe?” He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you. “I didn’t mean to! I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…” He clears his throat. “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”

Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.

“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”

“It literally talks about me fucking you.” He deadpans, eyebrows raised. “In explicit detail. It’s porn.”

You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Ok, fine! It’s porn, are you happy?” You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you. A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”

“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”

“I don’t know!” You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout. “It’s embarrassing. You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”

“Y/N, I would never out you like that.” You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.

He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.

“Do you…do you want me like that?” He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.

“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.” He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.

“Really? Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”

“Don’tyoudare!” The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.

“Oh? Then what should I do?” His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze. “Should I do this?”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, please.” You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him. Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.

“Words, Y/N.” He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.

“Dean, please-” A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone. “Put your mouth on me.”

Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.

He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders. The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.

He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties. To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.

In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading. But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.

You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair. He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.

“God, you taste amazing.” He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle. “What’s so funny?” Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had. Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.

“You got any protection?” He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.

Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.

So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared. You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.

He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.

“See something you like, baby?” He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips. You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.

Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care. He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.

You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.

The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.

“Oh, my god!” You huff, getting ever so impatient. He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned. A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.

You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.

“Ready?” He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips. Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!” You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home. Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.

“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.

It’s been a while for him, too.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.

“And you’re huge.” He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing. “I, uh, think you’re good to move.” You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips. When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly. “Oh, yeah. Very good to move.”

And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns. Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face. Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

“Fuck!” He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly. He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally. Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight. “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”

You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.

“Let’s slow things down a little.” He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.

When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.

“Dean,” You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him. The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own. His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.

The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face. Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom. You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.

“Well,” He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you. As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time. You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table. “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?” He teases as he takes the contraption from you.

“Yeah, Yeah, Dee. But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”

You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours. Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.

“Hey, baby?” He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.

“Hmm?” You hum, sleep tickling at your mind. That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.

“What’s Destiel?”

FIN

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underground-secret · 8 months

Text

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: y/n l/n (aka reader) has known the Winchesters ever since they helped her family start anew, away from a town that hated them for being witches. Or more specifically for y/n being a witch and accidentally causing mayhem. So when Dean comes knocking at her door asking for help she obviously complies, even if it means being stuck on the road with the man she’s secretly in love with.

Or it’s basically just y/n following the adventures of Supernatural

warnings: cannon violence, most likely poor representation of witch craft, everything written is fiction and should not be taken seriously

Prologue

Playlist

Season 1

Chapter 1: The Woman in White

Chapter 1~ Continuation

Chapter 2: Wendigo

Chapter 3: Dead In the Water

Chapter 4: Phantom Traveler

Chapter 4.5: Can you Promise Me?

Chapter 5: Bloody Mary

Chapter 6: Skin

Chapter 6.5: You’re not him

Chapter 7: Hook Man

Chapter 7.5: A fool in love

Chapter 8: Home

Chapter 8.5: Reunion

Chapter 9: Asylum

Chapter 10: Scarecrow

Chapter 10.5: Rest

Chapter 11: Faith

Chapter 12: Route 666

Chapter 13: Nightmare

Chapter 13.5: Words mean more at night

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vanteguccir · 3 months

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new addition | dean winchester

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Where Y/N discovers she is pregnant and worries about how her boyfriend, Dean, will react.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, on Wattpad.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, leaning forward over the closed toilet seat as she clenched her hands into fists around the pregnancy test, pulling a puff of air through her nose as if trying to keep herself in reality.

The woman had noticed changes in her body through last weeks, especially in her breasts that seemed larger and more sensitive than normal, which made her wonder if she was close to her period, as this is one of the symptoms of it, but her calendar showed that her period would only come 2 weeks later.

But then the week of her menstrual cycle arrived but there was no drop of blood, the pack of pads Dean had bought the week before was untouched on the counter, and then she began to worry, several possibilities swirling around her mind, but none of them were that one.

Until the day before, during a conversation between herself and Castiel, where the angel blatantly blurted out something he shouldn't have.

"...But that's all I've been able to find so far, Cass. With all the evidence and research, I think we're dealing with a different species of werewolf, but I'd rather read up a little more just to be sure." Y/N informed Castiel, pointing to the open book in front of her on the central wooden table in the bunker room.

"Uhm... Just don't overwork yourself, it won't be good for the baby." The angel responded, getting up from the chair he was sitting next to Y/N and straightening his coat.

The sound of choking echoed through the room, Y/N having choked on air at the older man's response.

"Who?" She asked, looking at him intently.

"The baby." Castiel replied as if it were obvious, his blue eyes widening seconds later. "You didn't know?" He asked slowly, swallowing hard.

"Castiel, what are you not telling me?" Y/N asked, standing up from her chair.

"Wow look at that, Dean is calling me, I have to go." And then the angel disappeared, leaving Y/N alone.

"Hey baby, how are... Y/N? What happened?" Dean entered the room seconds later, interrupting his speech halfway when he saw his girlfriend's frightened and pale face.

"Nothing." She responded quickly, leaving the room with everything behind.

Y/N spent that whole day thinking about what Castiel said, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, and the worst of all, it made sense; her body changed, her mood changed, her desires were strange and her period was late.

The woman managed, later that afternoon, to escape the bunker for a few hours and go to the nearest pharmacy, where she bought four pregnancy tests in the absence of one.

The next day, today, she took advantage of Dean and Sam's departure to investigate more about the current case to take the tests, spending long minutes staring at the closed boxes and wondering if she was ready to know the results.

Finally, working up the courage, she took two of the four tests, leaving the other two closed just in case.

Tension took over her body and she wondered how she would tell Dean if the result was positive, what direction her life would take, her life as a hunter...

Finally, 5 minutes later, she opened her tightly closed eyes, lowering her head and looking at the small screen where the result would be shown.

Pregnant.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

That night, Y/N found herself sitting on the bed in her shared room with Dean, the two tests inside a small box that she had found among the Men of Letters' mess which she held in her hands, her eyes attentive to the closed door, seeming to hold her breath.

The sound of the bunker's entrance door opening and closing seemed to wake her up, Y/N blinked her eyes quickly, shaking her head and sighing, briefly looking at the box, but her attention was taken by the door again as she heard it open.

"Hey honey." Dean smiled big when he saw his girlfriend waiting for him, placing his suitcase on the floor and closing the door, starting to take off the tie that was part of his "costume" during the interviews he did regarding the current case.

"Hi Dean." Y/N replied quietly, a tight smile settling on her features, tilting her face slightly upwards as she saw Dean move closer to kiss her.

"Um, is this for me?" The hunter asked when he saw the box in his girlfriend's hands, bringing his hand closer to take it, stopping in his action when he saw Y/N move the box out of his reach.

"Um." She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. "Sorry... Dean, yes it's for you, and I want you to understand the seriousness of this... gift. It's very important to us." Y/N informed, finally extending the box towards the taller man, who was looking at her in confusion.

"Wow, are you asking me to marry you?" Dean joked, taking the box gently and sitting next to his girlfriend, pulling on the makeshift navy blue bow and carefully removing the lid.

His hand that was holding the lid stopped in the air, his body tensing in seconds as his mind seemed to stumble on thoughts, green eyes almost popping out.

"Dean?" Y/N called nervously, her hands were shaking and her heart was beating like crazy, fear was settling in her body and questions were running through her head, the last thing she wanted was to lose Dean, but she wouldn't know how to act if he didn't want the baby.

"A-are you... There's a..." Dean stumbled over his words, never before feeling as nervous as he did in that moment. "Are we going to be parents?" He finally asked, putting the lid and box aside and taking the two tests in his hand, alternating his gaze between them and Y/N.

"Yes Dean, I'm pregnant." Y/N responded, smiling in relief when Dean laughed loudly with joy, pulling her into a long kiss full of smiles.

Y/N laughed as Dean laid her on the bed, lowering himself a little over his girlfriend's body and lifting his own shirt that covered half of her smaller body, looking enchanted at his girl's belly, still not completely believing it.

Dean never exactly imagined himself having his own family, having grown up in a completely unstructured one, his biggest fear was that he wouldn't be a good partner, much less a good father. But after he met Y/N and his heart was completely encircled by the woman, all he wanted most was to be with her forever, only seeing her with him when he thought about the future.

He knew that he wanted a family with her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Dean took a deep breath, turning his head to the side, his eyes carefully analyzing Y/N's face, her eyes practically closed and directed towards the ceiling, feeling extremely relaxed with her head lying on the man's shoulder, listening to his heartbeat, and that's how she realized something was wrong, the sound of the heartbeat becoming louder and faster than seconds before.

"Baby? Is everything okay? Your heart..." Y/N raised her head, now more attentive and awake than before, her eyes focusing on his, feeling her own heart heavy with the confusion of emotions installed in the green pool's.

"What if I can't protect him? What if... What if all our enemies-" He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "You will be vulnerable in these 9 months, what if you can't protect yourself like before? What if I'm not with you at all times and something catches you? The demons, Lucifer, even God... We have so many enemies spread across the world, I can't even imagine the danger he would be in just by breathing." Dean spoke as his eyes darted around the room, trying to find something that would make him think rationally.

"Hey, breathe baby." Y/N sat up straight on the bed, bringing her hands to Dean's cheeks and pulling his face so he was looking back at her. "Are you with me?" She asked, following his eyes until he looked back, nodding. "Dean, we won't always be there for him, we will raise our baby for the world and not for ourselves, the last thing I want is to keep him with us, that would be selfish of us. We will protect him throughout his life, and I guarantee you that we will do a great job at that, you know why? Because you are an incredible man and you care, the way you take care of Sam and practically raised him alone says that in itself. Yes, we have many enemies, more than I will ever be able to count, but we will learn together how to deal with this having this new addition in our lives, and I'm sure you'll get it right."

Dean sucked in air through his nose, his eyes filling with tears as a smile spread across his face, approaching and planting a lingering kiss on the lips that he already knew by heart and would never get tired of tasting.

"What would I do without you?" He whispered against Y/N's mouth, feeling her lips move into a smile.

"I don't know, but you would definitely be lost."

And at that moment Dean knew that the two of them would make it work, and in the near future they would have their complete family.

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lovelywritinglady · 4 months

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Secrets Suck, Man

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

With Dean being heavily against the idea of dating while on the job, Sam and you figure out secret ways to be together without Dean knowing. Except, here’s the thing, he already knows.

Angst, fluff, cute stuff with Sam. Takes place during Season 12.

Third Person Pov

"Sam, how many times do I need to tell ya that it's a bad idea. Hunters don't get a normal life and if they did, they ain't hunters no more." Dean lectured Sam who sat in the passenger seat of their 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

"Dean, all I'm saying is maybe it's not a bad idea to be with a hunter. At least you both understand the life and the risks." Sam pleated with Dean trying to get him to see his point of view on the situation.

"Dude, you really want to watch the person you love die because you were busy saving someone else?" Dean asks seriously.

"No, I wouldn't want that even if I wasn't a hunter, Dean. But at some point, I think it's okay as long as both parties understand the risk." Sam spoke with coming off harsher than before.

"Drop it, you know my thoughts on it Sam. It's not a good idea." Dean jabbed back as he turned up the radio to some 80's rock song.

"Fine." Sam sighed in defeat knowing that his plan to try to tell Dean that he already had a girlfriend and that person happened to be you.

Two hours later...

Sam and Dean made their way into the bunker where you were. Sam saw you and gave you a quick, but loving smile. While you waited on them to return, you read the same lore books hoping to find something new in them only to be disappointed again. You smiled back at him making sure that Dean didn't notice you looking at Sam. Speaking of Dean he said a quick hello and sat down on the chair in front of you kicking his muddy boots up on the table.

"Hey, I'm glad your back and everything Dean, but take your shoes off the table please." You asked him rolling your eyes.

"Whatever, did you find anything in the lore about Nephilim" He questioned doing what you asked.

"Same as before, I still only know what I've read for the millionth time and Cas's knowledge." you sighed rubbing your hand around your sore neck. This caught Sam's attention and he made a mental note to himself to help you out later.

"Don't worry we'll figure it out, we've just got to keep looking." Sam reassured putting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, don't worry about it Y/n, we've delt with worse and won." Dean butted in.

"Yeah, I think the apocalypse and the darkness are a lot worse than this by far. I'd still rather deal with a nest of vamps than this though." You half joked.

"You and me both." Dean sighed getting up out of his seat and walking towards the hallway. "I'm gonna take a much-needed shower see you guys at dinner." Dean spoke walking away to the showers.

As soon as he was gone you rushed towards Sam and gave him a hug. Breathing him in and feeling his body against yours invited instant comfort and happiness to your stressed-out body and mind. And to Sam, he found the same comfort as his arms immediately wrapped around you as he placed his left check on the top of your head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes allowing himself to be in the moment with you and forget all of the shit that is piled on them once again. He loved you and even having a little time alone was worth the world to him. After some time of just being there with him, your curiosity became too much and the elephant in the room needed to be addressed.

"Baby, what did Dean say?" You asked him raising your head while still holding Sam in your arms. He looked at you with a sad but loving gaze as you waited on his response.

"Same thing as before, he's against it." Sam sighed sadly. "But I don't care he can just deal with it. Secrets suck and I'm tired of keeping our feelings for one another away from Dean. I mean even Cass knows." Sam spoke trying to convince you.

"Yeah, I get that, I just really don't want an angry Dean top of the shit pile that we already have. I really want to tell him, don't get me wrong, I'm just scared to see how he'll react. Hell, I'd rather face Amara again than tell Dean, but I think it's important that we do." You pleaded with him trying to get him to see your point of view.

"Baby, if Dean gets mad that's on him. We are both adults and I think it'll be okay. I know your nervous, but trust me Dean at his core is a really big softie." He reassured rubbing your arms up and down.

"I still feel weird about it, but I think I'm just scared of his reaction, mostly." You whispered putting your forehead on the center of his chest.

"We don't need to tell him right now, we can wait as long as you need." Sam

“Thank you Sammy, that means a lot.” You say smiling at his sweetness.

Just as you two were about to break your hugs out comes Dean wearing his grey robe with an annoyed expression on his face. You were nervous and could tell that had whenever was wrong was serious.

“Dammit, If you two are gonna be together be fucking careful because this life ain’t pretty for us. I’ll support it if you guys do that. I guess some of us should have something good in this shit show.” Dean quickly said before a leaking away. As he did he did a double take. “And you two need to get better at whispering because I could hear everything.” He said annoyed as he walked away.

You both stood there dumbfounded at what just happened. You looked at each other and laughed at the situation. Sam then leaned down and captured your lips into a soft and sweet kiss. He broke the kiss giving you another big smile as he chuckled.

“Well I guess the secrets out.” Sam joked

“Yeah, and by what he said I guess he’s known for awhile now.” You say letting out a deep breath hugging Sam closer relieved that you don’t need to hide out of fear.

“Yeah, I’m just glad that with all of the shit that’s been happening that I still have you by my side. And no matter what I’ll be there for you.” He reassured

“Aww Sammy me too, I love you. And Dean’s right we should be careful about all of this.” You told Sammy nearly sounding like Dean.

“You’re right about that. And Deans right about another thing too. That it’s good that we’ve found happiness in this shit show.” Sam smiled.

“Yeah, we really did. I love you Sammy Winchester.” You proclaimed

“I love you too Y/n L/n.” Sam responded hugging you tighter.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

Please feel free to comment, request, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

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cat-loves-music · 2 months

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Random Person: Ew fanfiction is weird

Me: It’s the only way someone will love me like I need them to.

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry’s house #harry styles imagine #writing inspiration #harry potter #theo nott #writing prompts #criminal minds imagines #delulu #hunter!reader x dean winchester #dean winchester

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holylulusworld · 1 year

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Books vs Hunter

Summary: Dean loves books…

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: fluff, fun

A/N: Consider this nonsense. 💁‍♀️

“Dean, can you hand me the books?" you yell to get the hunter’s attention. “DEAN! Stop watching porn and help me here! I cleaned the bunker and sorted the books. I need your help to put them back on the shelves.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?" Dean jokes as he strolls into the library. “Why are you yelling my name?”

Dean admires your ass while you point to the books on the tables. You are standing on a ladder, and he gets a chance to look at your ass in your new jeans. “DEAN!”

“Yeah...sure...” he drops his eyes at the books. “Which one do you need first?”

“I sorted them alphabetically, Dean. Start with staple A, then B, and so on,” you huff as Dean looks at the books again. “I’ll make coffee if you help me now.”

“Raise me to pie and I’m all in.”

Dean sighs as you say, "I will raise you to no sex for a week if you refuse to help me again. I promised Sam we would take care of the books while he’s away. I cleaned the bookshelves, and sorted all the books."

“No sex for a week,” Dean ogles your ass again. “How about we take a short break, go down and dirty, and come back to the books later?"

“Not a chance," you reply, pointing at the books. “I want you to lend me a hand and help me with the books. No excuses Dean.”

“Fine, fine,” Dean grumbles as he grabs the first staple. He hates wasting his time sorting the books. “Why can’t we just leave the work to Sammy? He loves his books.”

“You love reading as well," you say. “Give me the books or I swear, you won't get any for two weeks.”

"That's extortion," he tells you, handing you the first book. Dean gives you the stinky eye, hoping you know this screams punishment. “I will put my hands on you later.”

You jerk your head toward the books on the table as you say, “Sir, you will put your hands on these books first. We also need to clean the kitchen and the bathroom.”

“I hate housework," Dean says with a huff. "Maybe I can find a hunt for us. “We can go out there and gank the evil, Y/N.”

“I will gank you if you don’t stop complaining,” you warn. “If you are good, I’ll make you lasagna for dinner.”

As he turns his head toward you, he asks, "You'll cook?" Dean licks his lips, remembering the last time you cooked for him. “Deal…”

You laugh as Dean wraps his arms around a huge stack of books to carry them toward you. “Dean, slow down.”

Sam grins as his brother almost runs toward you, the books still in his arms.

“What’s going on here? Did you suddenly fall in love with books?”

“Lasagna, Sammy! Y/N will make lasagna..."

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#Books vs Hunter #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x gn!reader #gn!reader #drabble

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the-halloween-jack · 7 months

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ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ - ｏｎｅ

PART ONE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Drinking, Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,257k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist Next Part>

Y/N Winchester’s brothers always warned her to stay away from Mystic Falls; if a hunter crossed its border, they may as well have been signing their death certificate, but, of course, she did not listen. Y/N wanted to prove herself and show them that she was not second-rate. And besides, would it not be immoral to allow these killings to continue unchecked?

Y/N glanced down at the evidence she had gathered about the town; it was apparent that the area was plagued with vampires, and the authorities had an abominable habit of covering it up. Coroner reports were sprawled across the small motel table in front of her, all claiming the same thing: that its victim died of an animal attack. However, reports of punctured necks and bloodless corpses affirmed otherwise.

The vampires of Mystic Falls were careless yet evaded scrutiny effortlessly.

Speaking to the locals achieved little, and she always walked away empty-handed. They had no accounts of antisocial behaviour or people who only seemed to make appearances at night. When speaking to witnesses, they stood unsure and dubious, as though blank spaces riddled their memories. Something else was at play here, and Y/N would uncover it, no matter the cost.

Her phone's small screen flashed again, accompanied by its trilling ring for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, vibrating and moving against the table it lay upon. The name ‘Dean’ was written in large letters across its display. Y/N sighed and lifted the device to her ear.

‘What do you want?’ She grilled in annoyance,

‘Oh, she finally answers,’ His voice heavy with the sarcasm the young Winchester had grown accustomed to over the years.

‘Yes, I finally answered, though that didn’t answer my question, what do you want?’ Y/N reprised

‘Y/N, you know exactly what Sam and I want. We haven’t seen you in weeks, and we have no idea where you are and if you’re safe; before you picked up the phone, we had no idea if you were even alive. You need to end this stupid kamikaze mission and come back to the bunker. It’s stupid to hunt alone; you could be killed; don’t pretend that’s not what you’re doing. We aren’t stupid.’ His lecture rolled off his tongue hot and fast, Y/N rolling her eyes in response, wishing for a moment that he was there to see it.

‘No need to worry about me, brother. I can handle myself, and you know it.’ She countered,

‘Y/N…’ But before he could continue, she hung up, putting her phone on silent and shoving it into her jacket pocket.

Only two seconds passed before it began to ring again, though she ignored it just as thoroughly as all his previous calls. Typically, Y/N’s brothers would have just tracked her down, though she was smart enough to disconnect all means of GPS location and give them and everyone they knew a wide berth. She even had precautions in place that prevented them from finding her by means of magic, reducing them to countless feeble attempts of merely asking her for her location, and she would never waver.

If Y/N had a dollar for every time Sam or Dean rang or texted, she could stop all the credit card fraud she was committing and live the lavish life a hunter could only dream of.

Once again, she looked down towards her incongruous evidence; she had reason to believe the town council was an inner circle of people in Mystic Falls responsible for the lazy cover-ups and the nugatory upkeep of the town’s safety. The council consisted of members from a group called ‘The Founding Families’, and her research showed they had occupied the small Virginian town since its forming in the mid-1800s, and it seemed to her Mystic Falls has been having occasional run-ins with vampires ever since. Suddenly, both of her brothers' warnings began to make more sense.

Y/N sighed and wrapped an overcoat around her jacket. She could do with a drink; besides, it wouldn’t hurt to try and gather more information about this uncanny town.

The door of the grill whined as she pushed it open, the crowded chatter of the busy Friday night meeting her ears immediately. She forced her way through the traffic of the locale and straight to the bar, deciding to sit next to a dark-haired man clad in a leather jacket with his shoulders hunched over a glass of whiskey. She looked toward the young bartender cleaning out a crystal glass with a towel he had just pulled from his shoulder; the sound of her stool being dragged from under the bench brought his attention to her.

‘I’ll have a double shot of Jameson, neat, please.’ She asked sweetly, hoping the boy would not ID her. She was already 21, though the nature of her pastimes meant she only had fake identification, and any excuse not to use it was excellent in her eyes. Much to her relief, the boy placed the glass in his hands before her and began to pour her drink. She pulled her phone from her pocket, a feeling of exasperation making itself known as she gazed upon the nine missed calls from Dean and the four from Sam. Answering the call earlier had only made them worse. She had barely brought the glass to her lips when the dark-haired stranger spoke up,

‘I can’t help but notice you’re a new face around these parts; what brings you to Mystic Falls?’ His accompanying smirk was flirtatious, and though only an idiot would overlook the apparent sublimity of his features, she was in no mood for mucking about. She returned the smile regardless, hoping to scour him for more information.

‘What makes you think this is a new face?’ She asked, using the same sweet tone she used with the bartender.

‘Trust me, I’d recognise a face like yours if I’d seen it before.' She wanted to ignore the cheap pickup line, though she could sense a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Y/N could hardly believe that this man she had only just met could affect her so quickly,

‘Well, I’m not exactly new; I’ve been visiting for around a month.’ Y/N didn’t want to say too much; she had not yet developed a backstory. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue,

‘I was thinking of moving here permanently, though, now I’m not so sure with all these killings… by animals, of course…’

Y/N decided it was best to get straight to the case; she was not here to waste time. Average eyes would not have noticed how his eyes tightened ever so slightly when she mentioned the animal attacks.

‘And now, why would that concern you?’ He used a light tone, though traces of accusation lay beneath. This did not go unnoticed by her; was it possible he was one of them? Her chest clenched; she had just met the man, though the idea of him being a monster saddened her in a way she could not have anticipated. She smiled nonetheless and made sure it reached her eyes.

‘I’ve made a hobby of hiking, and I think it would be unfortunate to have my cortical artery torn from my throat, wouldn’t you say?’ She did not know what possessed her to speak these words; could she have been any more obvious? He leaned closer, his piercing blue eyes adhered to her. Her breathing halted.

‘Yes, very unfortunate…’ he leaned back again before chuckling and exclaiming loudly,

‘How rude of me; I just realised I never introduced myself. I’m Damon Salvatore.’

Suddenly, it all made sense; he hailed from one of the founding families she had read about, Salvatore. Y/N felt a peculiar sense of relief. He was not a vampire like she initially suspected but rather part of the secret council hellbent on eradicating them, albeit not successfully. He held his hand out expectantly, and when she connected her own with his, she noticed a very conspicuous lapis lazuli ring adorning his fingers. It resembled that of an ancient family heirloom.

‘I’m Y/N, Y/N Walker.’ She thought it was best not to use her real surname; her family had gathered quite the reputation within the supernatural community, and this was the name printed on her fake ID anyway.

‘I think you’re quite right not to hike in the woods, Y/N, but I hope that won’t deter you from remaining in this town; it would be sad to lose a pretty face like yours.’ Y/N could feel her heart beating; she was sure the whole room could hear it. Y/N quickly looked down when she felt another blush forming. Damon turned to the bartender and slid her empty tumbler back over the bench,

‘She’ll have another Jameson, this time on me.’

From then, the conversation moved on to trivial topics, and Y/N found it difficult to proceed in her inquiry, given she was posing as an oblivious newcomer. A little while later, a woman clad in a sheriff uniform approached the pair, donning a solemn expression.

‘Sheriff Forbes…’ Damon nodded in acknowledgement; this was another name Y/N recognised from her research of the town, another founder. Y/N studied her face; she looked unsettled and nervous, as though she wished to speak with Damon but refrained in case of eavesdroppers.

She sent a pointed glare towards Damon and nudged her head ever so slightly in Y/N’s direction. Damon took this as an opportunity for introduction,

‘Liz, this is Y/N, she’s new in town.’ Liz smiled and sent Y/N a small wave,

‘It’s nice to meet you, though; I’m sorry to barge in like this. Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?’ She spoke kindly, though her nervousness was present in her voice.

‘No, not at all; I should probably be heading off soon anyway.’ Y/N smiled at the sheriff before pulling her phone from her pocket and trying to seem engrossed in something displayed on the small screen. Though her attention was drawn entirely to the whispered conversation between the two founders

‘There was another body found earlier, ruled as an animal attack again; of course, though, there is only so long before people begin questioning these reports.’ Y/N could feel Liz’s eyes glancing toward her spot on the barstool; Y/N was careful to continue scrolling through her phone aimlessly until the sheriff looked away.

‘Liz, you know I’m doing everything I can to find these culprits; soon enough, they’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be able to make our move against them.’ Damon also looked at Y/N from the corner of his eyes before very deliberately looking back to Liz. Was it possible they could be suspecting her? She was new in town, after all. For the first time, it occurred to Y/N that maybe Damon had been investigating the ‘animal killings’ this evening as well, and now Y/N found herself in the middle of it. She took this as her leave,

‘I should probably head off now; it was lovely meeting you both.’ Damon and Liz smiled in response, traces of their secret conversation disappearing behind amiable façades.

Her brothers’ phone calls continued; Y/N was kicking herself for answering the previous day; she should have seen it would make them so much worse. Sam’s name illuminated the screen of the vexing device, and for a moment, she considered crushing it under her foot just to silence the inconsequential piece of plastic and metal. Though reason returned to her just as quickly as it left, and instead, she lifted the mobile to her ear,

‘Hello, Sam.’ She sighed into the phone. She knew the calls would not stop either way now; she may as well entertain them. She heard Sam give a subtle gasp as though the sound of his sister’s voice shocked him, and that was probably not far from the truth.

‘Y/N, hear me out before you hang up, okay?’ She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue,

‘Dean and I really need to know where you are; we’re supposed to look out for you, and before you give me that “I can look out for myself” crap, it’s irrelevant, we know you can look out for yourself, but you don’t need to, whatever hunt you’re on Dean and I can help you, we’ll do it together.’ Sam spoke sincerely,

‘It’s a kind offer, Sam, but seriously, I know what I’m doing, and besides, inviting you and Dean on the first hunt I’m attempting by myself defeats the whole “I’m going off on my own for a little while” scenario, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Please, Y/N, just tell us where you are,’ Sam implored. Y/N could hear the low grumbling of the eldest Winchester in the background, pleading for the phone she imagined.

‘I’m sorry, Sam, but I think I should do this alone’. She said, ‘I’m going to hang up now, okay?’

‘Wait! Y/N’ But before Sam could say anything more; she disconnected the call; Y/N closed her eyes and sighed. She hated going behind her brothers’ backs, but she was sick of her abilities being overlooked.

Going on hunts with them meant staying behind in the motels, researching, while her brothers went out and got their hands dirty, returning triumphant from defeating the monsters Y/N had helped them discover. What good was all the combat training and exercise she did if she could never put it into action?

No, she would not invite her brothers; she would do this alone.

A/N: I designed my own page break for this series; what do you think?

Next Part >

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #the vampire diaries #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #the winchester brothers #winchester sister #vampire #mystic falls #x reader #tvd #spn #hunter

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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April Reading List

Hey, lovelies! I haven't had much time to read and will add more as I can, but here are the fics I had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of April. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

If any writer does not wish to be included in this list, please let me know.

Love, thanks, and happy reading!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

What's Up, Buck? by @late-to-the-party-81

Hope is a Dangerous Thing For a Woman Like Me to Have by @buckets-and-trees

Bandaged with Love by @jobean12-blog

SALT by @buckets-and-trees

Triage by @writing-for-marvel

Hello, Neighbor by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Burning Desperation by @rookthorne

Take Some More by @slyyywriting

Passionate Negotiations by @targaryenvampireslayer

I Wanna Be Yours by @buckycuddlebuddy

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Pound the Alarm by @rookthorne

Other Sebastian Stan Characters

God the Bounty Hunter x Reader

Call Out to Me by @mickeyhenrys

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Dead End by @shadeysprings

Steve Rogers x Reader

Rewritten by @intrepidacious

Other Chris Evans Characters

Ari Levinson x Reader

Stoned Sex by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Bad Moon Alphas by @biteofcherry

After Hours by @flordeamatista

Curtis Everett x Reader

Within the Shadows by @shadeysprings

Jake Jensen x Reader

Husband Material by @thornsnvultures

Miscellaneous Characters

Blind Dates and Secrets by @alicewonderao3 (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Through the Eye by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (John Wick x Reader)

Trapped by @ironlady1993 (Tony Stark x Reader)

March ⚓ February ⚓ January

#navy's fic recs #reading list #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #lee bodecker x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #jake jensen x reader #john wick x reader #dean winchester x ofc #tony stark x reader #show writers some love

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babyjackdaniels · 15 days

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#fox writes imagines #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #hunter!reader #weight mention tw #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x hunter!reader #18+ imagine #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #hunter!reader imagine #dean winchester x reader imagine #dean winchester x hunter!reader imagine

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constantcrisis19 · 9 days

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Loose Lips Sink Ships - Part 1

Dean Winchester x GN S/O

AN: Hey guys! I know that I disappeared for a bit, but I promise that I'm still alive and kicking! I've just been really consumed by the SoapGhost fics that I've been writing/planning for ao3 and that made it hard for me to find time to write for Tumblr in between irl things when all of my free time seemed to be dedicated to COD. But I finally decided to just sit down and work on one of my numerous WIP's which led to me cranking this bad boy out! Hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,118

You moved your hands out of your jacket pocket, revealing your well-loved wallet that you’d had for years, and pulled the card with your current alias printed onto it out of its assigned slot in a practiced motion.

You tapped the chip against the screen of the card reader in order to pay for the obscenely greasy food that you’d ordered for yourself and Dean –who you had left fast asleep in your shared motel room– watching with a keen eye as the payment processed and then was accepted with a little innocuous green check mark, the receipt printing with a soft whir.

You startled a little as a phone suddenly began to ring, the tune echoing loudly in the store, and it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it was actually your cell that was going off, your free hand –which wasn’t currently juggling both your card and wallet– darted down to the back pocket of your jeans in order to collect the device with a sheepish smile.

You swiped your thumb across the screen and answered the phone without looking at the caller ID, quickly wedging the device between your ear and shoulder in order to take the receipt that the bored looking cashier was impatiently holding out toward you with your newly freed hand.

“Hey, where the hell did you run off to?” Dean was already talking before you could even manage to get a greeting out, his voice rough in a way that it only was immediately after waking up, which told you that he most likely called after rousing from sleep and noticing that you were no longer in the motel with him.

“Just figured that I’d treat your lazy ass to some breakfast since you didn’t look like you were getting up anytime soon.” You said as you took the long strip of paper from the cashier with a small nod of thanks before stepping off to the side in order to make way for the next customer to step forward and be assisted, folding up the receipt and carelessly cramming it into your wallet before shoving it back into your jeans.

You had wanted to let Dean sleep in for once since it was technically your fault that you were both up so late last night, the two of you having been all wound up after running around all day asking anyone and everyone about the suspicious deaths that had been happening around town only to come up with fuck all, so you and Dean had decided to dispel all that pent up energy and frustration by testing Dean’s so-called ‘endless stamina’ that he constantly bragged about.

Needless to say, you had put him through the wringer and managed to come out the other side a little less worse for wear than Dean had.

You settled in with your phone now comfortably resting against the side of your head as you waited for your order to be called, and you bit your lip in an attempt to repress the love-sick smile that wanted to overtake your neutral expression when you heard the telltale shift of blankets over the line.

You could see Dean carelessly sprawl his limbs out across the bed in your mind's eye, your fingers twitching with the urge to brush your fingers through his –no doubt– adorable bedhead, the impulse always bubbling up without fail when you saw his hair sticking up at all sorts of odd angles.

“Rough night?” You asked, your voice practically dripping with faux-concern as you idly watched the people milling about the pop fountain, and Dean let loose a distinctly unattractive snort that had a smug grin spreading across your lips, your salacious smile earning you a dirty look from a woman who had just finished filling a large cup with cola that you unfortunately just so happened to make eye contact with.

“You’d know.” Dean groused, the sound of him moving about restlessly nearly drowning out his petulant response as he heaved himself upright with a groan that had him sounding like he was an old man rather than a spry twenty-six year old, and you winced in sympathy.

As hunters, your line of work was unforgiving and you yourself were subject to the various aches and pains that came from such a physically demanding job on more than one occasion.

“You order yet?” Dean asked suddenly and you blinked rapidly, his voice abruptly pulling you from the aimless staring that you’d been unknowingly doing as you recalled how stiff and sore you were when you woke up this morning. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, that was definitely a byproduct of last night's rigorous activities rather than having to fight for your life against some bloodthirsty creature or another for once, which was admittedly a nice change of pace.

“Yup. Got you a bacon breakfast burrito, hash browns, and a slice of cherry pie.” You replied with a wide grin, a bark of laughter erupting from your chest and startling the few people standing near you when Dean let out a truly sinful moan of appreciation.

“I love you so fucking much.” Dean declared, the mattress springs creaking as he pushed to his feet and walked across the small room before clicking on a lightswitch, his voice taking on a distinct echo as he entered the borderline claustrophobic motel bathroom.

“I know.” You said smugly before suddenly remembering the woman that you had run into on your way to the restaurant, causing you to be out longer than you’d originally intended, which was the whole reason why you were back with breakfast before Dean woke up.

“Also, while I was out, I happened to run into a friend of the ex-wife of the last victim and I may have found a lead on this case.” You stated after briefly glancing around and taking a couple of steps back in order to make sure that no one would be overhearing your conversation.

The most that you’d been able to get out of the shell-shocked woman when you and Dean had went to interrogate her the previous day was that her ex-husband had broken into the house while she was home alone and, after saying some shit that made no sense at all whatsoever, had dropped dead right there in the dining room before she could even process what had happened.

And that wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened, the person before that had slumped over dead in a church confessional booth after saying about three words to the priest and the one before that had just randomly collapsed to the ground in the middle of a crosswalk after angrily yelling at a reckless driver that had almost ran her over.

“Alright, hit me.” Dean said, sounding much more awake now but, before you could say a word, one of the employees called out your order number over the general chatter of the restaurant. You snapped to attention, muttering a quick warning to Dean that the food was done and you were gonna go grab it, before moving forward and maneuvering your way through the small crowd that had accumulated between you and the front desk.

You took the grease-stained brown paper bag with a grateful smile and a polite nod before turning on your heel in order to make your way over to the exit. You shamelessly used your foot to bully the door open –since your hands were full– before stepping outside and squinting when the sun made your eyes ache, unused to the intense brightness after having spent so much time under the fluorescent lights that they had installed indoors.

“As I was saying, apparently there’s an old legend–” You began as you trotted over to the nearby sidewalk in order to begin the long walk back to the motel, only to be almost immediately interrupted by Dean.

“There always is.” Dean muttered to himself through a muffled yawn, but you expertly ignored him –a talent that had been born from being around the older Winchester for several years– and continued on as if he had never even uttered a word.

“–that a witch used to terrorize the area way back when this place used to be just a tiny trading town and, considering that there is definitely some kind of curse involved here, I figured that a witch –if not the very same witch from the story– is most likely our culprit rather than a cursed object, like we initially suspected.” You continued explaining your findings, lifting a hand to wave at the driver of a pick up that had slowed to a stop and motioned to the street in front of them, allowing you to quickly jog across the crosswalk.

“Fucking witches man.” Dean growled, the deep sound sending the wrong kind of signals to your brain and making your core heat up in anticipation as images of last night came to the forefront of your mind, an overwhelming sense of smug satisfaction blooming in your chest when you recalled the plethora of possessive marks that you’d shamelessly left all over his body.

The deafening blare of a car horn unceremoniously yanked you from your internal musings and you gave Dean a noncommital hum as your gaze scanned over the street in an effort to find the origin of the noise, pausing your search and freezing mid step when you noticed a man and a woman standing stock still on the other side of the busy road, both of them just staring at you as passersby gave them a wide berth.

“Hello? You still there?” You heard Dean’s voice as he called out over the phone, but your attention was firmly locked onto the pair on the opposite sidewalk who were very openly watching you with an intensity that made your gut churn, your eyes widening when you made the mistake of making eye contact with the woman and she shot you a mean grin.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just– There’s a man and a woman staring at me… and I have a feeling that they’re not coming over here for a friendly chat.” You relayed warily as the two finally moved, the woman taking the lead as they stepped off the curb and began making their way across the road toward you.

And, no sooner than the words had left your mouth, you heard the telltale sound of Dean grabbing his keys and jacket before the rhythmic thump of rapid footsteps and the heavy slam of a door signaled his rushed exit from the motel room, the relative silence of the room being replaced by the whistle of the wind and general bustle of the city as Dean climbed into the Impala.

“Don’t hang up and don’t move, I’m coming to you.” Dean snapped furiously –though you didn’t take his harsh tone to heart since you knew that he was just worried– and you winced when you heard the deafening squeal of tires on asphalt from Dean’s end of the line, the commotion promptly being followed by a flurry of irritated honking as he drove like a mad man.

“The not moving thing probably won’t be an option, but you can access my location from your own phone and use that to track my movements. I’ll keep the call connected if I can.” You said quickly before acting as if you dropped the call and stashing your cell into the right pocket of your jacket moments before the woman came to a halt about a foot away from you, her companion not too far behind.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive my rudeness, it’s been awhile since I’ve come across a hunter. Especially one who is brave or stupid enough to travel with someone as infamous and recognizable as a Winchester.” The woman –who you assumed was in charge– greeted with faux-remorse, and you swallowed nervously as her red lips stretched into a wide smile that showed off too many teeth to be strictly friendly.

You scrambled for something to focus on as you began to panic at the realization that the mystery woman –who you strongly suspected was the very witch that you’d been looking for– not only knew who you were but also why you were there, your brain stupidly choosing to latch onto the fact that the pair were going to cause you to be delayed even longer, which meant that it was becoming more than likely that your food was going to be stone cold by the time you made it back to the motel.

If you managed to come out of the confrontation alive, that is.

#supernatural #spn #pre series #pre season one #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #protective dean #hunter reader #established relationship #shameless flirting #banter #case fic #hunt gone wrong #witches #curses

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supernaturalwolf · 3 months

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𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬?

(Rough draft????? Spelling errors and bad grammar expected)

“Listen Dean-” She spoke up but was soon cut off by her lovely, yet strict, brother as they strolled up to the high school

“What did I say?” He looked at her once he parked giving her a stare down as she rolled her eye before gesturing towards Sam to say something but he just gave her a shrug making her roll her eyes “Always carry a weapon, don’t accept drinks from anyone, and stay alert—“

“And?-” his tone shifted making her look at him unamused

“Never accept candy from a stranger?” She said plainly making her other older brother Sam laugh in which caused Dean to roll his eyes

”haha funny, you know what I mean-“

“Yeah no, I’m gonna be late” She scoffed as she gathered her things and opening the door, she knew what he meant but she wasn’t going to say it, she wasn’t 15 anymore.

“What he means is that we just want you to be as safe as possible being away from us” Sam spoke up before Dean had a chance to rant again, looking back at her with a small smile

”I know and I will be…you gotta trust me if I’m staying here by myself okay?” She looked towards Dean more than Sam, she knows Sam cares about her just as much as Dean but clearly one of them is hesitant to let her go alone, that much was evident

After a long pause Dean let out a sigh “Fine, but remember -”

“To call I know…” She smiled at him making him give her a small one in return nodding as he did

“I’ll be safe I promise…”

“Good…”

After speaking with the boys a little longer she managed to finally escape the car and into the school and as you probably guessed it she was a little late, though oddly enough she remembers the school layout from years ago, she eventually finds the classroom and walked in with a smile not noticing her two best friends nearly shooting up from their seats when she was introduced

“Ah miss Warren, first day back and you’re still late…”

Stiles and Scott looked at each other in shock before looking forward back at her, their best friend was back???

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural #hunter reader #reader is a hunter #winchesterreader #dean winchester #sam winchester #scott mcall #stiles stilinski

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

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Heyyy, idk of ur requests are open but if they are can u please write a dean Winchester x ex girlfriend smut who is a hunter and who dean is still not over. Sam and Dean rescue her from a vampire nest and dean is angry and worried after her and she's all like "stop acting like you care" and he says something like I'll show u how much I care" + angst + kinda enemies x lovers + dark dean? + marking ; ( set in early seasons llke;1,2,3)

a/n: my requests are open but if you're ever unsure, i do have a post that'll tell you everything you need to know in terms of my requests. and i can absolutely write that, thank you so much for the request! <3

also, if i'm being honest, i didn't even know what marking was so i really hope i got it right aha.

pairing: dean x ex-girlfriend!reader

warnings: smut, angst, enemies to lovers, marking

word count: 821

"Just come on." Dean growled, marching on ahead of you as you lagged behind. "We gotta get back to the car."

You'd infiltrated a vamp nest, and you had everything under control, until Sam and Dean blundered in. That was when things went wrong.

"You know I had everything under control back there." You told him, making him come to an abrupt stop. "If you hadn't barged in like a dumbass I'd have been fine."

He turned around then, seemingly insulted by your words. "If I hadn't barged in, you'd be dead."

"Bullshit!" You spat. "I don't need you to protect me."

"Well if you weren't so damn stupid then maybe I wouldn't have to!"

"Oh shut up. We're not even together anymore so stop acting like you care."

"Alright, just...come on." He paused. "Let's get back to the car, and we can talk about this later."

He reached out in an attempt to wrap his fingers around your forearm, but you quickly jerked away, denying him.

"Okay, fine. You wanna know how much I care?" He blurted out in response, his eyes going wide with frustration. "I haven't been able to get you outta my damn head for months, okay? And I freakin' hate myself for even thinking about you, because I shouldn't give a crap, but I just can't help it."

Silence pressed in over you both then, and you felt as though you were being crushed as you stood staring at him in the dark, his previous words becoming trapped in your mind.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to walk away from him tonight and never think about him again, except you knew that would never be possible.

It didn't matter how much space you put between you and him, because you would always remain shackled to him, your heart hopelessly pining after him.

After a moment, you were finally able to will yourself to move forward, taking the few short steps toward him before taking his face in your hands. You pulled him down to you, kissing him gently.

And you were both surprised by this, because considering the circumstances, you probably should've been punching him in the face rather than kissing him.

But oh, how you'd missed that beautiful face, the feel of his soft lips against yours. It was like coming home.

You sighed into his mouth, sliding your hands into his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling his fingers digging into your hips as he slowly pushed you backwards. It took a mere few steps before your back hit the rough bark of a tree and you could already feel yourself melting into him.

Dean pressed a harsh kiss against your lips then before dragging his mouth down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave bruises as he made his way to your collarbone.

It had only been a couple of months since you'd last seen each other, yet somehow it felt like years as you practically devoured each other, Dean's body pressing hard against you as you desperately tugged on his hair.

He groaned into your skin and it was like electric coursing through you. God you had missed him.

It didn't take him long to find his way down to your jeans, his calloused fingers slipping under the waistband as he continued pressing harsh kisses along your throat.

"Oh my god, Dean!" You cried out, your need for him growing stronger with every move he made against you.

He simply snickered, pulling back just enough that he could manage to pull your jeans down your legs. "You ready for me to show you just how much I care?"

"Yes." You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut as you leaned your head back against the bark. "Please."

He barely even gave you time to prepare before he was pushing himself inside you, making you cry out from the momentary sting.

"Jesus Christ." You whined, desperately clutching his shoulders as he thrusted inside you, pushing you further against the tree. "Dean."

"I know." He whispered into your neck, the sensation of his lips brushing your skin somehow making this all the more pleasurable.

He continued to slap his hips up into you, your groans filling the night air as you clung to each other, his fingers digging into your hips whilst you clutched the thick material of his jacket.

Being this close to Dean again felt incredible, the feeling of him deep inside of you setting your soul on fire. You had forgotten what this felt like, and you weren't sure you were willing to lose it again.

"I love you." You moaned, your breath catching in your throat as you pressed your forehead into his shoulder. "Oh my God."

"I love you too." Dean groaned in response, attempting to bury himself deeper inside you. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

"I think I have some idea."

[Main Masterlist]

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester enemies to lovers #dean x hunter!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester smut

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underground-secret · 22 days

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: When Dean gets a call from an "old friend" asking for help, old feelings resurface leaving for messy feelings and a complicated hunt.

Warnings: canon violence, feelings of unrequited love, angst, loving someone being difficult, corpses, crime scenes, cursing, mentions of racism, racist ghost truck?

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 , @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 9,251

Route 666

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

I lean against the expanse of the Impala, letting the bright sun shine over me. It was one of those cold but not cold days, where as long as the sun was hitting you it was perfectly right. Sam is next to me looking over the large map he has laid out on the hood of the car, trying to look for a way around a closed-off road.

I’m glad he knew what he was doing ‘cause my map and geography skills only went so far before I was lost.

Meanwhile, Dean was off to the side, his phone pressed to his ear his brows furrowed whoever he was talking to was clearly telling him something important and maybe shocking.

“Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just East of here,” Sam informs gaining my attention, “We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought.” I nod, taking advantage of his hunched-over figure to ruffle his hair, “Nice work, map man.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes my arm away playfully.

“Yeah. ‘Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania” Dean points out, closing his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. I look at him confused, “We aren’t…?” He nods, wetting his lips, “I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing.”

“What?” Sam vocalizes. “Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us” Dean clarifies. Without giving us any more information or even a chance to contemplate or counter his statement he gets in the car, “Come on, are you coming or not?”

The Impala cruises down the expanse of the road, a long beautifully green field on one side and a lake on the other. “By old friend you mean…?” Sam asks the question we were both undeniably thinking. “A friend that’s not new” Dean grumbles.

“Oh! Thanks, genius” I remark, he was being weird and that alone was not helping his case. “‘Said her name’s Cassie huh?” Sam said, trying a different angle, “You never mentioned her…”

“Didn’t I?” Dean remarks. He wasn't very good at hiding this one, the car falling silent in the wake of his stupid answer. He finally huffs, “Yeah, we went out.”

“You mean you dated somebody?” Sam asks with a snort, “For more than one night?”

“Oh come on Sammy we're all adults here, we’ve all dated before” I chime in with a smirk. He turns around in his seat, facing me with an expectant look, “Are we talking about the same person here? Dean doesn't date.” Sam exclaims and I push down the ache of that implication, “And aren’t you the least bit curious.”

“Oh no, I am,” I nod enthusiastically, laughing lightly, “I want all the details. I was just tryna be nice.”

He snickers, turning back to his brother, “You heard her, we want all the details.”

I swear Dean’s eye practically twitches, “Am I speaking a language you’re not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks.”

I want to ask how long ago this was, was it months before his dad disappeared or a year or more ago, but I hold back on my questioning. “And…?” Sam pushes. Dean shrugs slightly.

“Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do,” Sam reasons, “Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean doesn't answer again, silently shifting in his seat uncomfortably. The realization hits me like a brick, “Oh. My. God,” I lean forward in my seat almost getting choked out by my seatbelt, “You told her! You broke the number one hunting rule! You know, not telling anyone, ever!”

“More than that!” Sam adds, “It’s our big family rule. Number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I did nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?!” I try not to think about my own relationships both romantic and not that rarely ever made it past a couple of months before it ended, not only having to lie about being a hunter but a witch too. Dean stays silent, staring straight ahead, “Dean!” Sam yells.

“Yeah. Looks like,” he finally acknowledges. He continues to stare ahead, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. Sam shakes his head, giving his brother his classic bitchface.

“Oh. He had it bad” I laugh leaning back in my seat, ignoring the sinking and stabbing feeling in my heart. I figured I’d have to keep doing so on this hunt.

The office was dark, the bright sunlight not able to stretch upon the large room not even with the help of glass doors. The place could really open a couple of blinds, let the light shine in.

An old white man with an interesting-looking tie, one of those Western ones with the jewel and black tether, talks to two people a man and a woman their backs towards us. And the way Dean pauses, staring at the woman it isn't hard to deduce she's Cassie. She and the older black gentlemen next to her seem to be having some sort of dispute with the old white guy.

Then suddenly both of the men walk away, clearly frustrated, leaving Cassie to stand there herself. She turns around swiftly, and almost like a perfectly curated romance movie she nearly hits Dean only inches separating the two. I didn't even realize he had moved forward in the time we've been standing here.

Just looking at her I could tell why Dean fell for her, she's beautiful more than that. She could be a model with her beautiful long dark curls framing her face, full lips colored red, and big brown eyes. She must have stepped out of a magazine, everything about her screamed perfect down to her perfectly shaped eyebrows and perfect nose. “Dean,” she says, her voice smooth despite the look of slight apprehension.

He nods and grins, “Hey Cassie.” And they just stare at each other. He's looking at her in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone before even despite the tension that hung in the air, unspoken words from however long ago.

His eyes seem to glimmer, you’d have to be a fool not to see he still has feelings for her, that they never went away in the first place. And that it’s more than just any feelings, he loves her and that is a hard pill to swallow.

He clears his throat, breaking the trance they were both in, “This is my brother Sam. And my friend Y/N.” She smiles at each of us before her gaze reverts to Dean, not that I could blame her in the slightest.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” he says.

“Yeah. Me too,” she answers.

Her family home was beautiful and extraordinarily large, it was a bit disturbing. Though maybe that was because it reminded me of my home before moving to Kansas, or at least what I remember of it. We sat in the sitting room on vintage settees, another reminder of that home–my mother would quite like the look of this cozy room.

Cassie finally comes back adorning a tray of tea cups and a teapot along with the little bowl of sugar and a small pouring cup of milk, could she get any more perfect and wonderful? “My mothers in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her. I wish she wouldn’t go off by herself. She’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,” she explains.

“Why?” Dean asks as she takes a seat across from us. He was watching her every move as if dedicating it to memory, I wonder if he’s thinking ‘She moves in the same manner she used to’ or maybe that it changed. Suddenly I was not so okay with sitting between the boys even though that's almost how we always sat when talking to someone on a hunt, as it made it harder for them to fight and made them slightly more comfortable with squishing into sofas with their large frames. But now, being in the middle I could easily watch how he looked at her, studied her.

She skillfully pours tea into each cup, “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” she responds carefully.

“A truck, did he see a driver?” I ask, diligently accepting the beautiful teacup she handed me. I take a careful sip of the black tea, of course she would know and pick the perfect tea for guests. Does she have any flaws?

“He didn’t talk about a driver,” she answers, “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad’s car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

Sam accepts his cup of tea, “Thanks. Now you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?” And as predictable as Dean was he looked at his cup weirdly before depositing it back on the tray, that man was not a tea person he’d take a coffee or a beer any day. I think the only reason he drank the tea I gave him when he was sick was because he knew how desperate Sammy and I were.

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on that thing,” she explains, “It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad’s car…leading right to the edge, where he went over.” She swallows harshly, bowing her head, “One set of tracks. His.”

Dean’s face softens, eyes filling with sympathy, “The first was a friend of your father's?” She nods, “Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He ‘lost control of his car.’”

I force my brain to rid itself of any thoughts of Dean and Cassie's relationship. This was like any other hunt, something weird is going on and we are here to help, nothing more.

It was weird, cars don't just drive off the road like that and then have newly made dents that match another vehicle. “Is there any reason you can think of as to why your father and his partner might've been targets? Competition?” I ask. She shakes her head, radiating certainty, “No.”

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam points out.

“When you say it aloud like that…,” she sighs, “listen, I’m a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffs, “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

“That was then,” she bites back. Then they fall back into that thing where they just stare at each other, “I just know that I can’t explain what happened up there. So I called you,” she adds, directing her words only to him. I clear my throat, weary of the bubble they seem to have put around themselves, “You were right in calling” I reasoned softly, “It is very strange and on the off chance it isn’t anything supernatural then it was certainly a cover-up.”

Her perfect eyebrows furrow but before she can respond the sound of the front door opening catches all of our attention, a middle-aged white woman enters through and I assume it's her mother. She shared her mother's eye shape and her nose, but the rest of her she must have gotten from her father.

As if we had gotten caught we all rise from the sofa. Cassie goes over to her mother, taking her arm, “Mom. Where have you been I was so…” her mother cuts her off looking at us, “I had no idea you'd invited friends over.”

“Mom, this Dean, a…friend of mine from…college. ‘His brother Sam and friend Y/N.”

“Well, I won’t interrupt you” her mother smiles nervously.

“Mrs Robinson,” Dean says suddenly, “We’re sorry for your loss. We’d like to talk to you for a minute if you don’t mind.” And as if offended she recoils, “I’m really not up for that right now.”

The morning sun is dimmer today, perfect for the scene we were walking upon. The man Cassie was standing with yesterday, Jimmy, was the newest victim. He died in the same way as the others sometime late last night. Cassie was again arguing with the old white man from yesterday. As we approached I could hear his condescending voice, “Close the man road. The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen Cassie, and that’s what they are. Accidents.”

We stand beside her, Dean speaking up immediately, “Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?”

Without missing a beat and without looking away from Cassie the man asks, “Who’s this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, Y/N L/N. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd” She replies smoothly. This man went from just any old white guy to a powerful old white guy, even worse. And he had two first names, you never trust someone with two first names. Reluctantly Mayor Old Guy answers Dean’s initial question, “There’s one set of tire tracks. One. ‘Doesn’t point to foul play.”

Cassie scuffs, “Mayor, the police, and town officials take their cues from you. If you’re indifferent about…”

He cuts her off, “Indifferent!”

“Would you close the road if the victims were white?” she counters.

Oh. Could she get any more iconic?!

“You suggesting I’m racist Cassie?” He spits, “I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”

“And why is that?” She counters, stepping closer to him.

“Why don’t you ask your mother” he answers before walking away. My jaw drops, what the hell is going on in this town?

I huff, blowing a piece of hair out of my face. I really didn’t want to get dressed, for as much as I’ve been trying to ignore the whole Dean and Cassie situation I was feeling horrible.

I sit on the soft motel bed in nothing but my underwear and a nice white button-down, haven given up on dressing. I feel stupid. Incredibly stupid.

Maybe Sam’s words had gotten to me, maybe I had gotten my hopes up without even realizing it.

He loves someone else, and he’s had for a while. I always thought when you love someone those feelings don’t ever truly go away, there's always a part of you with them. They wind up crossing your mind and you wonder where things went wrong. But I guess I never considered this would also apply to Dean, which is cruel to believe within itself. Which is funny too, all these years I’ve spent loving him…But Sam was right he didn’t date so I guess I assumed he never fell for anyone during his countless one-night stands.

I know death is cruel but maybe love is tied with it. Because I feel like someone took my heart and ran with it, leaving me with this void in my chest and an ache so intense that it throbs in its place. It was stupid to think I had a chance to begin with. I knew not to believe I had one in the first place, but somewhere along the line I had completely forgotten about any of that. So much for listening to my past self, if I had maybe I wouldn't be feeling so damn bad.

But I couldn't be mad. Cassie was wonderful in every possible way and you don't need to know her for long to realize that. They seemed perfect for each other really. She was feisty and had no issue putting someone in their place, which I quite admired, and I know Dean could use that every now and then. If she was a jerk I’m sure I’d have no issue disliking her, but she wasn’t! She was impossible to dislike, and it would be horrible of me to hate her just because she harbors feelings for someone that I love or the fact that he loves her back. That wasn't her fault, it was neither of their faults.

Loving someone has to be the hardest thing one could do.

I get up from the bed and put on my skirt. I couldn't sit here forever, the boys would come knocking and I wouldn't have a good excuse as to why I’m in a mood. Quickly I check myself in the mirror, at least I didn’t cry which means I don't gotta redo my makeup, even if it was minimal to begin with.

How do you stop loving someone? I could use that answer.

I knew I loved him for a long time, too long. But I suppose I didn’t realize just how bad it had gotten, how much it had flourished and I had never expected that to be possible. I love him.

I love him and it hurts so much.

How many times did I have the opportunity to tell him? It had to be in the hundreds. Maybe it was better that I didn’t, he loves someone else and I should be happy for them. I am happy for him. He deserves to be loved and be able to love. Yes, I am happy.

I approach the two older men having lunch, focusing on the wet ground and the wholesomeness that is them eating on a pier. “Hi, sorry. Are you Ron Stubbins?” I ask, taking the lead. I needed to throw myself into the work, I needed the distraction. The older man nods looking at us confused, his black cap bobbing with his head. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?” Dean follows up.

“Who are you?” Ron responds with, sitting up straighter. He was sizing us up, skeptical of us, which he had every right to be. “We’re Mr. Anderson’s insurance company. We’re just here to dot ‘I’s’ and cross ‘T’s’,” Dean explains, flashing his badge.

“And they needed to send three of you?” He counters. I giggle, tilting my head slightly, “Would you prefer me leaving?” I ask sweetly. And as predictable as men can be he drags his eyes across my body before shaking his head, “No. No. That won’t be necessary.” I ignore the dirty feeling that washes over me and sticks to my bones like a new layer of skin, it was necessary to do that because now he won’t bother questioning us anymore on that topic.

“We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?” Sam questions, getting back on topic. Reluctantly Ron looks away from me to look at the man who questioned him, “What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well visions, hallucinations” He elaborates.

“We’re working with local psychologists to broaden our questioning and research,” I explain, trying to clear the confusion from his face, “It’s all very standard.”

“What company did you say you were with?” Ron counters. Maybe he was more on guard than I thought. “All National Mutual” Dean answers smoothly, “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell ‘you talking about?” Ron exclaims, “‘You even speaking English?”

Wow, what a lovely guy.

“Son this truck, a big scary monster-looking thing?” Ron's friend suddenly says.

“Yeah actually, I think so” Dean answers. The man hums to himself in thought, please let this interaction be useful. “You’ve heard of something like that?” I ask the man. “I have,” he nods, not bothering to elaborate.

“You have. Where?” Sam pushes.

“Not where,” he finally answers, “When. Back in the ‘60s, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“They ever catch the guy?” I ask. He shrugs, “Never found him. Hell, not even sure they really looked. See there was a time, ‘this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.”

“Thank you” Sam nods.

We walk away, heading back to the Impala. “Well, it seems like history is repeating itself,” I began, “From the lack of investigation and racism down to the–”

“Truck,” Dean says, finishing my sentence. “Keeps coming up doesn’t it?” Sam adds.

“You know, I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captian’s evil spirit. It was basically part of him” Sam answers, explaining the lore. Dean nods, “So what if we’re dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have been black men” Sam continues the theory. I half-shrug, “I don't know. The town has to have more than a handful of black people, but it only seems to be going after specific people. It’s practically targeting those connected to Cassie and her family. I’m sure there’s some deeper link there.”

“That’s why I think it’s more than that,” Dean says.

“All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam tells his brother specifically, clearly playing matchmaker. “Yeah, I will,” Dean agrees.

“Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing” Sam noted, a playful smile on his lips. Always the meddler. “What other thing?” Dean asks, either genuinely lost or faking it. “The serious, unfinished business?” Sam elaborates. I huff a laugh, “Yeah, seriously Dean it's so painfully obvious. Just talk to the girl.” It pained me to even suggest that, to motivate him in such a way but I want him to be happy, and if that means being with her then so be it.

Dean stops just as we reach the car, going obstinately silent. Sam huffs a laugh this time, “Dean, what is going on between you two?”

“All right, so maybe we were a little more involved than I said,” he finally admits. I give him a pointed look, “Yeah…that was obvious.”

He huffs, “A lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn’t have.”

“Ah look man, everybody’s gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam reasons, being a little too understanding compared to how we were only yesterday. “Yeah I don’t,” Dean argues, “It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

I smile at him softly, hoping any sadness is concealed far behind my eyes, and I realize Sam is giving him the same look except he’s nearly beaming. “Would you both stop!” he shouts. But we don't because this is a side of Dean we’ve never seen before, and it is beautiful even if it's heartbreaking for me. “Someone blink or something!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up.

“You loved her,” I say softly, the gape in my chest deepening at the verbal declaration. Saying it aloud was so much worse. “Oh God,” he groans, turning to the Impala. “You still do!” I call after him.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam states, connecting the pieces. Dean goes silent, staring at the ground, then carefully glances at his brother before reverting his eyes. “Oh wow. She dumped you.”

I have to stop myself from taking in a sharp breath, there was a lot to this he wasn’t telling us. But why would she break up with him if she still has feelings?

“Get in the car” Dean demands, done being “emotional” and open, “Get in the car!”

Sam hands me my hot chocolate, but not even the sweet treat or the soft snow falling just outside can lift my mood. It makes me feel a little better but it does not fix my heart. Dean didn’t come back last night and I know it’s because he spent the night at Cassie’s. I’m happy they worked things out and hopefully had a wonderful night but again it does not fix my heart.

I held the cup tighter, welcoming the immense warmth it brought to my frozen hands as we stepped out of the small coffee shop. The air was crisp yet gentle as the light fluffy snowflakes descended onto us, the cold flakes collecting in my hair. A small smile graced my face, maybe it was making me feel better. I like the cold, preferred it even, I was cozy in my thick turtle neck and my favorite fleeced-lined jacket.

Sam and I walk in comfortable silence side by side, sipping from our cups and basking in the scenery of the unexpected snow. It was early May in Missouri, it really shouldn’t be snowing but I suppose if it could snow here a little in April then early May couldn't be that weird. Plus it was a light snow that likely wouldn't even stick. But the calming scenery is cut in half by an ambulance that speeds past us, sirens blaring. We share a questioning look but ultimately ignore it until two cop cars rush past us heading the same way. That we can’t ignore. With another shared look, we follow after the sirens.

I look out at the macabre scene, the yellow caution tape not having stopped me from investigating thanks to the use of a fake ID. The body had been bagged after countless photos were taken, but the blood of Mayor Todd still stains the streets. It was a gruesome scene, arguably worse than the others in this case his organs squished out like roadkill and, truthfully, that’s what he had become.

“L/N” Sam calls out from just a few feet behind me. I turned around swiftly, the snow whirling around me, Dean stood next to his brother. He came.

I walk over to the two boys, watching Dean’s clear expression of shock masked by annoyance, “‘You gonna ask me a bunch of questions too?” he asks. I look at him confused, “...no” I drag out slowly. His face seems to relax slightly, something unrecognizable passing in his eyes, “Good,” he nods.

“I already know you made up–made out” I add, his face drops, “Anyways, crime scene,” I point behind me.

“Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding,” Sam explains the case, catching his brother up, “The cops are all stumped, it’s like something ran him over.” The wind picks up again, swirling the snow in its own private storm, the cold will help with the case as it preserves the body longer. “Something like a truck?” Dean asks, gaining his footing in the case.

“Yeah, except of course there’s no tracks” I answer. He nods, rubbing a hand down his jaw and I have to force my eyes away from the movement, “What was the Mayor doing here anyway?”

“He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago” Sam says referring to the building site.

“But he’s white, doesn’t fit the pattern,” Dean points out. Sam nods, “Killings didn’t happen up on the road. That doesn’t fit either.”

I shove my hands into my pocket, taking a quick look back at the crime scene before turning back to the boys, “Then it seems like this case is one of revenge.”

I shuffle through the papers in front of me, glad that I was sent to do research at the town's main library rather than be at the newspaper office with the boys and Cassie. She was probably looking at him all sweetly and being a kind person, and I did not wish to see the loving way they looked at each other. And if avoiding that meant having my nose in dusty boxes of court records then that was okay.

I pull out my phone calling Sam directly instead of Dean, the phone rings a couple of times before he picks up, “Hi” I greet, “I got some info.”

The line goes quiet for a second before I hear his voice, “Alright you're on speaker.”

“Ok, so,” I start, balancing my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I look over the papers, “I have courthouse records here, and according to them Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family who owned it for, like, 150 years.”

“Dorian?” Dean repeats back. “Yes.”

His voice grows quieter but still in range enough for me to hear, “Didn’t you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?” he asks someone else in the room. “Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town,” Cassie answers. “Right, right” Dean responds followed by the clicking of keys.

“You got something there?” I ask, readjusting my phone.

“Think so” Sam mumbles, seemingly focused on whatever was happening over at the office.

“This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of ‘63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then,” Dean informs, adding more information to what that man yesterday had told us.

“Well to add to that information, the Dorian place seemed to be in really bad shape when the Mayber bought it,” I add, “He bulldozed the place.”

“Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?” Dean asks, presumably, Cassie. “It was a big deal” she answers, “One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page.” I huff a breath, everything connecting yet leaving so many questions at the same time. “You got a date, Y/N?” Dean calls back.

“Um,” I hum shuffling the papers around and reading over the words quickly, “‘3rd of last month.” The line goes quiet again the only sound ringing back being the sharp noise of fingers on a keyboard, “Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd,” Dean finally responds, “The first killing was the next day.”

Pouring the boiled water into the mug I take a quick look back, Dean kneels in front of the shaken-up Cassie rubbing her knee softly and looking at her with pure determination and adoration. I swallow roughly looking back at the mugs in front of me, nearly overspilling and burning myself.

This was not the time to grieve a love that never happened. Cassie called Dean afraid, having seen the black truck. We were here to help, I was making a soothing herbal tea for her and her mother to calm the nerves.

Finishing with the mugs I carefully carry them into the sitting room. Sam takes one from me, gently handing it to her mother. I hand the mug to Cassie, her shaky hands accepting and rattling the cup, Dean immediately moves to sit at her side but it does not stop his protectiveness if anything it amplifies it; he practically radiates it. “Maybe you should throw a couple of shots in here,” she says, half joking.

I huff a laugh, “Well while the effects of alcohol do have the capabilities of easing the central nervous system, when the effects wear off your body will be jolted back from its depressive state which would really only make you feel worse, more anxious as well as stressed.”

She gives me a half, almost awkward, smile before taking a sip from her mug. Did I say too much? Why didn’t someone stop me? Someone should’ve just cut me off, especially if I wasn’t helping.

“You didn’t see who was driving the truck,” Sam says suddenly, pulling the awkwardness out of the air. “It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone,” she explains, “Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean answers. This would explain why at least one of the victims had seen it and truthfully thought they were going mad. “Mrs Robinson,” Sam began, “Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.” Mrs Robinson doesn't answer, seemingly lost in her mind as she shakes. “Mom?” Cassie says carefully, worry laced in her voice.

The older Robinson shakes her head nervously, “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok?” Dean snaps, “Your daughter could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

“Dean…” Cassie warns. But her mother's face contorts in emotion, something in her breaking, “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” Sam asks, taking a seat across from the woman. “He thought he did,” she answers cryptically. “Who was that?” Dean pushes. Her eyes get watery and she sinks into herself, “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

My gaze flickers to the boys, we are all thinking the same thing, I look back at her, “By any chance was it Cyrus Dorian?” I ask carefully. Dean pulls out a newspaper from inside his coat, handing it to the woman. She doesn't shake her head or nod only replying with, “Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

“How do you know he died, Mrs Robinson?” Dean asks softly, “The papers said he went missing. How do you know he died?”

She hesitates, her mouth agape like a fish out of water or in reality that of a person who got caught, “We were all very young,” she says, “I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin…in secret of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don’t know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murder,” Sam voices.

Her voice wobbles, “They were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of truck. Nothing ‘ever done,” she swallows shifting in her seat, “Martin and a…Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn’t want the attention.” She pushes her short hair out of her face, stressed. “And what became of Cyrus?” I ask.

Endless tears fall down her cheeks, “The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. They all died.” I suppress the gasp that wishes to leave my lips, the room seems to dim with the information. What was meant to be a beautiful day was soiled by the blood of innocents.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asks softly, careful of her fragile mindset.

A sob escapes from her chest, “No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him terribly. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” Dean pushes. She continues to cry, “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam acknowledges. This all confirms the theory of a vengeful spirit. “And so is Mayor Todd,” Dean adds, “Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”

“He was a good man,” Mrs Robinson answers, “He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he…he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cassie asks, her voice hard yet full of emotion. I couldn't imagine what was going on in her head, to find out something like this–“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect,” her mother reasons.

“Yes, there is” Dean counters, fiercely. His green eyes harden with determination as he looks at Cassie.

I sit on the cold hood of the Impala, gently kicking my legs back and forth watching Dean pace in front of me. Sam leans against the car next to me, his arms crossed as he too watches his brother, “Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms…”

I look at him with an amused smile, “I have no idea what that last part is but it sounds fun!” That stops Dean in his tracks for just a half of a second, he points at us, “No it doesn’t. I saved him from a boring existence.”

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring” Sam reasons. I nod enthusiastically, “Honestly, we have not had a normal day in like months. Kinda miss it.”

Dean brushes our light complaining off, “So this killer truck–”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer truck’” Sam quips with a dramatic sigh. I failed to hold back my laughter, Dean laughs lightly and for a brief moment, things feel how they used to, “Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam asks.

“The construction on his house. Or the destruction,” Dean points out.

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless” Sam recalls. His brother hums a ‘yes’, nodding.

“Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?” Sam references, and I in fact had no idea what he was talking about. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus’ murder quiet and unsolved,” Dean adds, bringing it back to the case at hand.

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam acknowledges.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway” Dean shrugs.

“Wait, does this mean we have to go swimming in that swamp?” I ask. I mean if we had to salt and burn the bones then we would need said bones which are in a swamp, how nice. Dean smiles at me, I know that look. “No” I warn, pointing at him like an animal that did something wrong. “You said it” he rationalizes.

“Noooo” I whine a pout on my lips, “Do I have to do it alone?”

His wicked smile deepens, “‘Course not, Sammy’s gonna be with you.”

Sam’s shoulders drop, “Man,” he sighs.

Suddenly a familiar figure approaches, her hands tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Dean stands up straighter, “Hey.” She smiles sadly, “Hey. She’s asleep. Now what?”

“Well, you should stay put, look after her…and we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house,” Dean explains, looking at her in that way that hurts my heart. But she smiles, any worry melting off her face, “Don’t go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it.”

Dean glances back at us, Sam looks down grinning acting as if neither of us could hear the conversation. He turns back to Cassie mumbling something I can't quite make out but whatever it was must have been good because he slowly leans in to kiss her. I drop my head and gaze at the very interesting ground, trying my best to ignore the sound of their intensifying making out. A pang of jealousy, longing, and pain shoots through my chest. If the ground wanted to just open up and consume me now I wouldn’t complain, I’d even help it and just throw myself in it wouldn’t have to work very hard. Sam clears his throat, I look up but Dean just holds out a finger to wait as he brings Cassie even closer.

I drop my eyes again.

Loving someone never hurt so bad. Loving him never hurt so bad.

Was it wrong to love him? Was this always going to be my fate? To see him evermore with other girls, loving them more than he could ever love me.

“You two comin’ or what?” Dean asks. I look up once more and this time his lips aren’t on Cassie.

I tug on the chain again, making sure it's secure, my hands getting wet in the process. I wipe my icky hands off on my jeans as I back away, “Alright he’s good,” I call out to Sam who stands feet away from me, closer to the butt of the pickup Dean was driving. He gives a thumbs up to his brother who begins to move the car forward, the pickup moving slowly in the weight of the heavy truck and water pressure.

We had already gotten it up a lot, but it had gotten stuck on the side of the swamp so we had to readjust its hold to get it the rest of the way up.

The years in the water had diminished it. The old black truck was now more like a rust bucket, remains of the swamp water spilling out from the seams. “All right. A little more…little more,” Sam leads, “All right, stop.”

The engine shuts off and Dean heads to the Impala, he pulls it open rummaging through the various weapons. “Now I know what she sees in you” Sam declares with a snap of his finger, meaning he finally understood what that look in her eyes meant. “What?” Dean asks.

“Come on man, you can admit it. You’re still in love with her” Sam clarifies. I nod even though the implications hurt, “Plus it’s not like no one else knows. So the only person you’re hiding from is yourself.”

Dean looks up from the trunk, “Uhh, can we focus please.”

I purse my lips, “Yeah…focusing has never really been our strong suit…” A container of salt is pressed into my chest, “Hold that” Dean says swiftly.

His expression hardens, all jokes put to rest as he dishes out items, “Gas” he says first, handing the large container to his brother, “Flashlights,” he lists out next filling my empty hand with one.

“Ok, let’s get this done,” he quips, closing the trunk.

We trudge back over to the rusty truck, our flashlights leading our way across the grass. Dean places his hand on the handle and I must wonder how he isn’t grossed out by just the feeling of the flaked paint and rotting metal. He glances at us in a silent ‘you ready?’ We give a nod and he opens the door.

A decaying wet corpse falls out the door and onto the soft grass, a small gush of water following its lead. I leap back like a scared cat, clasping a hand to my mouth and nose the decomposition of the body as well as its marinating in swamp water left a putrid smell. One perhaps worse than anything I've ever smelt before which was saying something considering what I’ve hunted.

“All right let’s get to it,” Dean says. Sam pours the gasoline all over the body, careful not to get it close to us and I jump in with the salt, opening the little latchet to sprinkle the small white crystals over the open-mouthed corpse. The satisfying scratch and flick of a match sounds softly beside me in the quiet night followed by the drop of the matchstick on the body. In mere seconds the remains go up in flames, the warm glow of the fire reflecting on the truck just beside it. I hoped no one would come looking over here with the whirl of smoke twirling above us, the heat powerful enough for me to take another step back.

“Think that’ll do it?” Sam voices, staring down at the burning corpse. But his question is followed by the revving of an engine and two blinding lights pointed at us. Without looking in the direction I knew it was the ghost truck. “I guess not,” Dean quips.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” the younger Winchester asks. “Sure it did. Now it’s really pissed,” Dean responds. I glare at him, “I don't know if this is the time for cool jokes.”

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right Dean?” Sam asks, a hint of panic in his voice as the tuck stares us down. But his brother doesn't answer right away, instead, he starts to walk away, “Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck.”

I go on my tip toes trying to peak into the truck, maybe we missed something like a severed piece of him that didn’t spill out but before I can vocalize this Sam is calling out to his brother, “Where are you going?” I turn around, catching up to the boys, “Goin’ for a little ride,” Dean answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What?!” Sam and I exclaim in unison, “That’s a horrible idea!” I add. But he ignores our concern, “Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” Sam asks, voice raising in volume. But being the determined man he is he shrugs, “I don’t know. Figure something out.” He rounds the car, opening the driver's door, “At least let one of us come with you, this is horribly dangerous,” I try to reason.

His eyes move up and down my face, before he settles on my eyes once more, “‘Exactly why you’re not comin’ with.” Before I can come up with a retort on how stubborn he is he settles himself into the car, closing the door behind him. I look to Sam for any support on this but he just stares at the car muttering, “Figure some–something–”

I rack my brain for ideas because Dean wasn’t going to listen and would rather be all hot and stubborn than be reasonable, “An explosion?” I suggest. Sam shakes his head, “No, that wouldn’t work. Parts would go everywhere and everything has to burn.”

I huff, frustrated, “I hate when you’re right.”

Dean reverses the Impala and takes off, the engine revering. As predictable as possible the ghost truck roars after him. I try to rack my brain for more ideas, even if we could suddenly light a truck on fire it would take too long for it to burn completely, “Sam, please tell me you got some idea rolling around in there.” He doesn't answer, lost in concentration with his bottom lip between his teeth.

My phone suddenly rings in my pocket, I pull it out swiftly seeing Dean’s name glowing. I flip it open bringing it to my ear, “You okay?” I say immediately. “Uh…yeah,” He says but I remain not convinced, “what are we doing?”

I look at Sam, panicking slightly, “Um, Sam what are we doing?”

He pulls out his phone, “You gotta give me a minute.” He presses his phone to his ear, “He says to give him a minute, I think he’s callin’ someone.”

“I don’t have a minute!” He half yells. “Dude, I don't know!” I panic, “Just…just don’t die, okay?”

“Trying here sweetheart.” I look back at Sam who has stepped away, I give him a hand motion of ‘please hurry up.’ He nods, coming closer to feed me info, “Ask him where he is.” I pull my phone away from my ear putting him on speaker instead, “Okay, Dean where the hell are you?”

“In the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” he exclaims, “It’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus.”

“Listen to me, this is important” Sam orders, calmly, “I have to know exactly where you are.” Seemingly taking his advice he goes quiet for a beat, “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Ok. Headed East?” Sam follows up.

“Yes!”

A rattle and a bang followed by skitting noise sounds from the phone followed by cursing, “You son of a bitch!”

“Sam!” I yell, begging him to hurry up. “Ok, uhhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right.” Again the line falls silent, “You make the turn?” Sam questions softly. My heart beats faster with each silent moment that passes. “Yeah, I made the turn!” Dean yells, “You need to move this thing along a little faster.”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?” Sam asks.

“No!... Wait. No, yes, I see it.”

“Ok turn left.”

“Wha..?” Dean half says before he goes quiet again the only sound coming from the line being more screeching and shuffled movement. “All right, now what? He finally responds.

“You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop,” Sam explains. I looked at him strangely, noticing he wasn’t on the phone anymore, but what the hell was he talking about? “Stop?” Dean voices.

“Exactly seven-tenths Dean” Sam repeats.

“God, I hope you know what you’re talking about,” I tell the man beside me. “Me too” he mumbles over the sound of his brother repeating the words ‘seven-tenths.’ I look at him my mouth agape, “You wha–”

“Dean, you still there?” He cuts me off, focusing on his brother again. “Yeah,” Dean responds.

“What’s happening over there?” I ask, not knowing was killing me. “It’s just staring at me,” he answers carefully, “what do I do?”

“Just what you’re doing, bringing it to you,” Sam replies.

“Wha–” Dean began before cutting himself off, the line going quiet for the umpteenth time, “Come on. Come on,” he mumbled quietly but just loud enough for the phone to pick it up. My heart thumps in my chest, anticipation and fear running through my veins as well as something else from those two stupid words–something had to be wrong with me to find that hot now of all times.

The line is silent, for one beat, then another, then another…I grip my phone tighter, “Dean? Dean, are you there? ‘You okay?”

“Where’d it go?” he responds with a mix of shock and confusion. “Dean, you’re where the church was,” Sam explains. “What church!” he freaks.

“The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids,” Sam clarifies.

“There’s not a whole lot left,” Dean responds.

“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, and sometimes they’re destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it,” Sam explains. I hit his arm, “That was a hunch?!”

Dean adds in with the lecturing, “Maybe? Maybe!! What if you were wrong?!”

“Huh,” Sam hums, “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”

I glare at him sharply, hitting his arm again as I say, “You’re too sassy for your own good.” He laughs, a boyish grin on his face.

I wait in the back, Sam in the driver seat for Dean to say his goodbyes. I liked the back seat, more now than ever because being in the front would mean being able to see out the side mirror and watch Dean kiss the woman he loves and say a goodbye I was sure he didn’t want.

Life was being really unfair and uncool.

I bury my nose in my new book, it would be better to just escape into this world than have to deal with my feelings here in the real world. My feelings in the real world were not fun, they were depressing and hurt…a lot. But no amount of ink on paper formed into beautifully crafted words could fill the gaping hole in my heart, still, I tried as there was nothing else to do.

What is worse is knowing there will never be a chance for me to be loved by him, at least not in the way I do, because there will always be a place in his heart for her. He’ll think of her all the time, dream about her, and perhaps see her in the breeze. His heart belongs to her, and possibly always has.

I needed to accept that. The sooner I did the quicker the pain would go away. I couldn't go on believing I had a chance I needed to huff the flame out now.

No more hope. No more love. We’re friends, always have been, and always will be. That will have to be enough. I couldn’t love him anymore, not if it meant feeling this much pain. I wouldn’t accept his touches anymore for they gave me more hope than I’d like to admit.

No. I was wrong.

Worse of all is knowing that I can’t just stop loving him. Let it be the Gods' fault or the stars or whatever it is I’m meant to believe in but my heart has long been his and always will be. I could never love someone the way I love him, I wasn’t capable of that. Let it be that our love was written in the star's constellations that it was undecided by me or him for my love had to transcend the binds of that nonsense.

I loved him and he did not love me and maybe it was that which I had to accept because to stop loving him would mean to stop my heart from beating. Though even then I suspect not even the afterlife could keep me from my eternal love. And maybe that was pathetic or stupid, especially since he did not care for me in such a way, but it was the truth and no one has ever claimed truth to be a beautiful thing.

I’m brought back to reality with a bump. When did we leave and start driving? I look out the window, we had already made it to the highway…I look at the boys, but both seem fine. Ok then.

“I like her,” Sam says, and suddenly I wish to be lost back in the state I was in moments ago. I would love not to hear or be a part of this conversation. “Yeah,” Dean replies, seemingly just to get his brother to stop.

“You meet someone like her, doesn’t it make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?” Sam asks innocently perhaps trying to get him to understand what he had felt with his girlfriend. But something flickers in his face and suddenly he’s making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, his eyes written in apology as if it just hit him now what all of this was doing to me. It was that puppy dog look.

I smile sadly at him, giving him a curt nod in a silent ‘it’s okay.’ His gaze flickers back to the road.

Dean leans forward pulling sunglasses from the glove box, he puts them on carefully ignoring his brothers' initial question, “Why don’t you wake me up when it’s my turn to drive?” He slouches down in his seat with a sigh. I shake my head, roll my eyes, and go back to my book.

We were leaving Missouri and all would be well, or as well as they could be.

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