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waywardxwords · 3 days
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Taking Chances: Delayed til this weekend!
Hi, friends! My family and I are on vacation and while I’ve gotten some writing done, I did not bring my laptop with me and we have decided to extend our trip by a few days! I hate posting chapters from my phone because it’s too time consuming, so Chapter 9 of Taking Chances will be posted this weekend, most likely on Sunday!
Hope everyone is having a lovely week. Chat soon!
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waywardxwords · 5 days
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Thank you so much, @tofics! I appreciate the reblog! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the story so far.
Taking Chances
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Series Warnings: Language, smut (eventually, so this series is 18+ only). Some others may appear. Warnings will be listed at the top of each chapter.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
This was born out of the one shot I wrote in October called Rules were meant for Breaking. This story doesn't follow along with any specific timeline or storyline from Supernatural, and there will be things that differ in this story than what took place on the show.
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Chapter 1 - Rules Were Meant for Breaking
Chapter 2 - Nothing to Lose
Chapter 3 - We'll Always Have Atlanta
Chapter 4 - Cherry Pie
Chapter 5 - Last Names
Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My!
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Chapter 8 - Save Me
Chapter 9 - Stay (4/25)
Chapter 10 - Call Me Yours
Chapter 11 - Tell Me I'm Gonna Be Okay
Chapter 12 - We're All Afraid Sometimes
Chapter 13 - Home
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A/N: It feels so good to be starting up a new series, I've missed writing the last few weeks! Updates will be made every Thursday!
Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197 @deans-baby-momma @nix-rose @djs8891 @globetrotter28 @k-slla @agentorange9595 @dragonfly92 @nancymcl @springsteeen @perpetualabsurdity @deanwinchestersgirl87 @mimi-luvzyu @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @ultimatecin73 @impalaspixie @daughterofcain-67 @lacilou @jasminewinter140 @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2 @rizlowwritessortof @marimarvelfan @jc-winchester @taylortot @siampie1990 @thewritersaddictions @raisinggray @tabsluvsu @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @nyotamalfoy @ades106 @akshi8278 @fanfic-n-tabulous @officialnighttime @so-get-this-sammy @malindacath
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waywardxwords · 8 days
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Aw, thank you @officialnighttime! You are so sweet ❤️ I appreciate you!
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Just going to put this here. Pass it on.
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waywardxwords · 8 days
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I’m so glad you loved it, @djs8891! And I completely agree, it’s so sad that this has always just been a part of them. Thank you so much for reading and reblogging! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! I appreciate you!
Chapter 8 - Save Me
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3k
[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]
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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 
“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 
A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 
“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”
Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 
You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.
“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.
“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”
You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 
“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”
You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.
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“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.
“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”
They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.
“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 
Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 
“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 
Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 
“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 
Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”
You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 
You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 
“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 
“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 
Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 
As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 
“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 
“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 
“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 
“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 
“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”
“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”
You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 
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Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 
He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 
“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 
“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 
“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 
Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 
“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 
“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 
“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 
“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 
“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 
You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 
Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”
You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 
His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”
Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 
“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 
“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 
“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”
There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 
“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 
“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”
“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 
The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”
“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 
“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 
“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 
Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”
“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.
“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.
“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.
The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.
“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.
“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 
He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”
Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 
Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 
Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 
“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.
“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 
“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.
You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”
“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.
“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.
There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 
“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 
You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!
Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!
Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!
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Chapter 9 Preview:
One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 
Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.
“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.
“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 
“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 
“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 
“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 
“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”
“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”
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waywardxwords · 9 days
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Thank you so, so much, @zepskies!
LMAO, that planner piece? Yeah, that’s me to a T, too 😂.
I’m glad you caught the little nod to the title of the story. It’s really going to pick up from here where both Dean and the reader will have to decide if they want to take a chance or not. 👀❤️
And LOL to the similar line - great minds think alike 😂. I felt like it was a very Dean-esque thing to say hah.
I’m also really glad you appreciated the purpose of them talking and sharing so much so the reader could get a glimpse of who Dean is and why. I know sometimes back and forth dialogue can be boring, but it was important for the story to take shape from here.
I also really wanted the reader to get a little peek at Dean and Sam’s relationship. We’ll see some more of their dynamic and where they are at in future chapters!
I’m so glad you’re enjoying this! Thank you so much for reading, reblogging and sharing your thoughts! I appreciate you, friend!
Chapter 8 - Save Me
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3k
[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]
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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 
“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 
A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 
“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”
Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 
You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.
“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.
“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”
You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 
“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”
You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.
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“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.
“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”
They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.
“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 
Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 
“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 
Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 
“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 
Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”
You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 
You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 
“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 
“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 
Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 
As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 
“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 
“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 
“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 
“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 
“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”
“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”
You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 
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Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 
He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 
“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 
“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 
“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 
Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 
“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 
“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 
“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 
“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 
“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 
You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 
Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”
You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 
His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”
Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 
“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 
“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 
“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”
There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 
“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 
“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”
“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 
The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”
“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 
“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 
“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 
Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”
“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.
“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.
“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.
The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.
“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.
“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 
He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”
Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 
Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 
Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 
“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.
“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 
“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.
You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”
“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.
“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.
There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 
“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 
You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!
Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!
Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!
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Chapter 9 Preview:
One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 
Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.
“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.
“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 
“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 
“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 
“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 
“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”
“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”
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waywardxwords · 9 days
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Chapter 8 - Save Me
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3k
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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 
“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 
A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 
“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”
Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 
You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.
“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.
“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”
You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 
“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”
You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.
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“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.
“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”
They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.
“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 
Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 
“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 
Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 
“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 
Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”
You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 
You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 
“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 
“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 
Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 
As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 
“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 
“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 
“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 
“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 
“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”
“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”
You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 
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Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 
He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 
“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 
“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 
“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 
Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 
“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 
“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 
“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 
“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 
“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 
You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 
Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”
You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 
His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”
Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 
“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 
“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 
“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”
There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 
“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 
“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”
“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 
The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”
“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”
“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 
“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 
“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 
Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”
“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.
“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.
“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.
The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.
“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.
“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 
He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”
Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 
Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 
Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 
“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.
“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 
“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.
You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”
“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.
“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.
There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 
“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 
You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!
Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!
Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!
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Chapter 9 Preview:
One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 
Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.
“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.
“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 
“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 
“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 
“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 
“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”
“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”
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waywardxwords · 14 days
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Haha, heck yes! Buckle up, it’ll definitely be an adventure but the hardest part of her figuring everything out is out of the way. Now just to deal with it once the dust settles 👀.
Thank you for reading and reblogging, @rizlowwritessortof!
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.3k
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Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 
“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 
Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 
“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 
“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 
“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”
“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 
At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 
As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 
“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 
“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 
“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 
“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 
“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.
“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”
Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 
“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 
Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 
And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 
You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 
“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"
“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."
“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 
“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”
Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”
“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 
“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 
You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 
“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.
“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 
“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 
“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”
Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”
You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 
Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 
“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”
“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 
“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 
“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 
“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”
You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 
“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 
You took a deep breath before you went inside. 
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“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 
“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 
“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 
Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 
“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 
Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 
“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”
Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 
Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”
“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 
As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 
As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 
Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 
A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”
You opened the door to welcome them inside. 
“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 
“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 
Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 
“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 
“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”
You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 
“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”
Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”
“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 
Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 
“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 
“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“
You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 
Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?
Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)
Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!
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Chapter 8 Preview:
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
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waywardxwords · 15 days
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She really did! There may be some turmoil in the future 👀 it was a lot to take in and she didn’t really have a ton of time to process. But all in all, she’s trying to “go with the flow” lol.
Thanks for reading and reblogging, @foxyjwls007!! I appreciate you ☺️
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.3k
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Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 
“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 
Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 
“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 
“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 
“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”
“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 
At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 
As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 
“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 
“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 
“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 
“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 
“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.
“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”
Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 
“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 
Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 
And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 
You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 
“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"
“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."
“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 
“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”
Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”
“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 
“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 
You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 
“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.
“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 
“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 
“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”
Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”
You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 
Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 
“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”
“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 
“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 
“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 
“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”
You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 
“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 
You took a deep breath before you went inside. 
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“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 
“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 
“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 
Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 
“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 
Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 
“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”
Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 
Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”
“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 
As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 
As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 
Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 
A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”
You opened the door to welcome them inside. 
“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 
“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 
Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 
“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 
“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”
You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 
“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”
Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”
“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 
Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 
“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 
“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“
You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 
Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?
Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)
Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!
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Chapter 8 Preview:
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
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waywardxwords · 16 days
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Ha, I know, right?! Don’t have to tell me twice 😏😝
Thanks for reading and reblogging, @djs8891 !
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.3k
[1][2][3][4][5][6]
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Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 
“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 
Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 
“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 
“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 
“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”
“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 
At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 
As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 
“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 
“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 
“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 
“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 
“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.
“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”
Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 
“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 
Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 
And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 
You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 
“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"
“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."
“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 
“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”
Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”
“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 
“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 
You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 
“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.
“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 
“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 
“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”
Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”
You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 
Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 
“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”
“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 
“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 
“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 
“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”
You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 
“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 
You took a deep breath before you went inside. 
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“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 
“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 
“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 
Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 
“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 
Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 
“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”
Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 
Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”
“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 
As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 
As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 
Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 
A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”
You opened the door to welcome them inside. 
“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 
“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 
Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 
“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 
“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”
You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 
“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”
Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”
“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 
Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 
“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 
“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“
You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 
Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?
Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)
Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!
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Chapter 8 Preview:
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
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waywardxwords · 16 days
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Thank you so much, @zepskies! I’m glad you enjoyed this one ☺️❤️
Yes! So this is (very loosely) based in the season 8 timeline. But veryyyy loosely. Not everything will align to the season, but I may pick and choose as we go!
You know I love protective Dean 😏. I’m glad you enjoyed his protectiveness of her and wanting to keep her safe.
And yes! I felt like she definitely wanted to take back control of the situation but also slightly panicked knowing that Jen would put two and two together soon enough. Haha, I’m glad you liked the meeting with Sam. I thought it was fitting.
I’m so glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and reblogging, friend! I appreciate you ❤️
Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.3k
[1][2][3][4][5][6]
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Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 
“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 
Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 
“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 
“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 
“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”
“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 
At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 
As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 
“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 
“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 
“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 
“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 
“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.
“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”
Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 
“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 
Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 
And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 
You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 
“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"
“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."
“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 
“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”
Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”
“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 
“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 
You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 
“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.
“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 
“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 
“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”
Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”
You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 
Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 
“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”
“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 
“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 
“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 
“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”
You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 
“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 
You took a deep breath before you went inside. 
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“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 
“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 
“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 
Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 
“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 
Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 
“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”
Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 
Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”
“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 
As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 
As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 
Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 
A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”
You opened the door to welcome them inside. 
“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 
“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 
Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 
“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 
“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”
You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 
“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”
Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”
“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 
Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 
“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 
“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“
You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 
Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?
Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)
Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!
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Chapter 8 Preview:
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
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waywardxwords · 16 days
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Chapter 7 - We're Not in Kansas Anymore
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language, Supernatural-y things (demons, exorcism, etc.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.3k
[1][2][3][4][5][6]
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Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looked pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes moved over you. 
“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 
Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 
“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 
“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 
“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”
“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 
At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 
As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 
“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 
“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 
“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 
“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 
“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.
“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”
Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 
“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 
Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 
And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 
You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 
“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"
“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."
“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 
“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 
“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”
Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”
“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 
“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”
“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 
You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 
“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.
“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 
“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 
“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”
Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”
You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 
Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 
“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”
“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 
“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 
“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 
“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”
You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 
“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 
You took a deep breath before you went inside. 
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“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 
“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 
“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 
Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 
“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 
Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 
“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 
“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”
Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 
Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”
“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 
As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 
As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 
Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 
A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”
You opened the door to welcome them inside. 
“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 
“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 
Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 
“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 
“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”
You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 
“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”
Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”
“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 
Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 
“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 
“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“
You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 
Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”
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A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?
Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)
Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!
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Chapter 8 Preview:
“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.
“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.
“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.
“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 
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waywardxwords · 18 days
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Thank you for the rec, @zepskies! I’m honored ❤️
Does anyone have some good fluffy/not too angsty Dean, Soldier Boy or Beau fic recs? Today’s been a day and I could use some.
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waywardxwords · 22 days
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I’m glad I was able to surprise you with that twist 😏 and I agree! At least now she sees it for herself. I’m excited to share more soon! Thanks so much for reading and reblogging, @rizlowwritessortof! I appreciate you!
Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My! (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language,
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
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Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having (what you would describe) as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 
Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone slept with one). 
“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 
“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 
“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 
“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 
“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 
“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 
You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 
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Three days had passed since you flew home from Kansas. You had blocked Dean’s number, but you had gotten calls from other numbers you hadn’t recognized with all different area codes. You didn’t answer. It was then that you remembered Dean’s voicemail when you had called previously: “This is Dean’s other, other cell…”. Your stomach dropped when you connected the dots. 
The next step you took was removing yourself from the project that took you to Kansas. Your boss had warned you that you were making a terrible mistake, and you probably were (from a career standpoint, anyway). But it didn’t matter. You never wanted to step foot anywhere near Kansas again. 
Even knowing what you knew from the articles (which you had barely read; Jen did most of the reading and kept you informed on a need-to-know basis. Which was basically Jen just saying: “You’re gonna have to forget this one, friend.”)—your heart hurt. You felt immense pain being away from Dean, and trying to shove the memories from that night out. You Googled how to disassociate, or how to build walls around memories. But so far, nothing had worked. 
Jen encouraged you to do the most normal thing you could on a Friday night—have a dinner and movie night with her. So now, you stood in your kitchen over a pot of spaghetti watching the water boil. Normal, boring life. 
You couldn’t help yourself, though. On your kitchen island, your laptop sat opened up to one of the Google searches. Your excuse was that you wanted to run through it all with Jen when she arrived, but in actuality, you were hoping there would be something to prove all of this was a lie, and maybe you (and the police, and the detectives and the FBI) had gotten it all wrong.
As you watched the water bubble in hopes of creating some kind of distraction, there was a loud knock at your front door. Jen wasn’t supposed to be there for another twenty minutes or so, but she also knew you were having a hard time with all of this. As you made your way to the front door, you assumed she wanted to come over and take your mind off of the man you were trying desperately to forget. 
A quick swipe of your hands on your dish rag, you pulled the front door wide open in one swoop. 
“You’re…early,” your voice trailed off and you thought your eyes might roll out of your head with how wide they were. It wasn’t Jen. It was Dean. 
Your brain told you to slam the door and call 911. But Dean was quicker than that. He walked in through the open door in one stride, his brows knitted together as his green eyes searched you. You tried to figure out what he was looking for. 
“Are you alright?” His eyes moved as his hands gripped just above your elbows. You completely froze. 
“Dean, what are you…how did you find me?” A million questions ran through you as you tried to process. And determine what your next step would be. Could you defend yourself against him? Would you even try? 
As much as you knew, seeing him again flooded you with every ounce of feeling you felt while you were with him in Kansas. The smell of his cologne made you shiver.
“I couldn’t get ahold of you,” he removed his hands from you and began to walk around. He was searching your home—window sills, primarily. But what was he looking for? He ran his finger along them and checked. Dust? Something else? He couldn’t be crazy…right? Your internal dialogue mixed with this man you thought you knew even just after a few nights pacing in front of you made your head spin. 
From your kitchen island, he turned back towards you. His movements had slowed now and you placed his expression as one of being confused. 
“You’re…fine?” He asked slowly. 
You tried not to look at the island where your laptop sat opened to images of Dean’s (multiple) mug shots and news articles. You decided to try to reason with him. 
“Dean, if you’re worried I’m going to call the police or the FBI, I’m not,” you moved slowly from your spot in the doorway but made a mental note to leave the door open. It was your only immediate escape. You also noted how strange it was that Dean let you leave the door open. Wouldn’t some psycho murderer cover all of his bases? Nothing made sense, and you felt frustrated tears sting in your eyes. 
“The what?” He looked completely perplexed now. “I think I missed a chapter here, sweetheart.” His eyes stayed on you until your gaze moved to the island. Shit. His eyes followed and his face fell. “Oh.” ‘Oh’? That’s it? At that moment, you felt like the articles were true. “Listen, I can explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain, Dean!” You said a little too excitedly. “No harm, no foul, right?” You tried to force a chuckle as you slowly side-stepped to keep distance between you. 
Even though you thought you knew better, you swore you saw a wave of hurt pass over his face. 
“You haven’t committed any crimes here, Dean,” you said slowly. “You can just go and no one needs to know you were here.” You were almost to your kitchen island by now, and your goal was to put it between you and Dean. In your gut, you still found it impossible to believe Dean would lay a hand on you (well, in a negative way). But your head reminded you of the articles. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he emphasized as he put his hands up in front of him in a way of showing he meant you no harm. “None of this is what it looks like. And I realize people who commit crimes say that every day…” he trailed off as he tried to get the words out that would show you. “My brother and I, our job is a little bit different.”
Against your better judgment, you continued the conversation with him. “You said you were exterminators…” your words fell off as you processed. “Oh, God. Do you mean exterminating people?!” You hadn’t meant to squeal but you couldn’t help the inflection in your voice. “Are you like Dexter?!” Your eyes widened at the thought. 
“What? No! We don’t kill people,” Dean was exasperated as he tried to explain all of this to you. “Dammit, this is not how I wanted to tell you this.” Those words were almost muttered under his breath as he ran the palm of his hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, I know this is going to sound crazy…” literally everything you’ve learned in the last three days has sounded crazy, you thought. You nodded him on to continue, again against any judgment you had. “Just give me a few minutes to explain. We kill monsters.”
Come again? You didn’t have the courage to ask. But Dean just stared at you, waiting for some kind of reaction. 
“Monsters? What does that even mean?” You folded your arms across your chest protectively. 
“Like spirits and demons. That,” he pointed to the screen of your laptop. “Isn’t me.” There was a CCTV still shot of Dean with a gun aimed at people in a bank robbery turned hostage situation turned murder. Jen hadn’t given you the details on that one; you had to find it for yourself. “That’s a shapeshifter.” 
Your mouth ran dry. You couldn’t even swallow if you wanted to. “Jesus, you actually believe that’s real,” you muttered as you ran your fingers through your hair. You realized at that point you were shaking. You focused on just trying to breathe. 
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he spoke again. “I swear to you, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.” 
“Dean, if you truly mean me no harm, please leave,” you had never felt so conflicted before in your lifetime. The frustrated tears were back. You had truly thought Dean was different—amazing, even. But now you were second-guessing everything, your judgment included. 
It looked like Dean wanted to say something, but he stopped himself with a single nod. He put his head down and stared at the tile below his feet for a moment before he looked up again. “I’m really, truly, sorry,” he said, and it felt like he meant it. “I respect that. I’ll leave you alone.”
After one more glance at you, he moved to where the front door was still ajar and walked through, closing it behind him. 
Your eyes stayed glued on the door for a few moments in bewilderment. He had left easier than you thought he would. But your brain reminded you to move after a few seconds. You hurried to the door and bolted it, and locked the door knob. Your fingers still trembled as you touched the metal. 
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About ten minutes later, Jen arrived. The knock at the door made your heart stumble a bit. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. This time, you checked the peephole on your door before opening it. 
“Jen,” you sighed in relief when you pulled the door open. “God, am I glad to see you.” You had gone back and forth on whether or not to tell Jen that Dean had come to see you. He had left without incident, and you really didn’t understand how you were feeling at that moment. You knew he was crazy; demons? Spirits? And what the hell was a shapeshifter? But at the same time, he didn’t try to hurt you. And it seemed as though he wouldn’t even think of hurting you. 
“Have you heard from Dean lately?” Jen’s question hung in the air as you poured each of you a glass of wine. Something about her seemed a little off tonight, but it had been a long week and you hadn’t really gotten the chance to connect with her as often lately. 
“Nope,” you popped the sound of the ‘p’ as you slid her glass over to her and ignored her gaze. You could feel her staring as you turned so she was at your back and you scooped pasta onto a plate. “I mean, I’ve gotten some random numbers again, but that’s about it.” 
As you scooped, you heard Jen ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’. “I didn’t think you were a liar. Especially to the person you call your best friend.”
It seemed a little bit odd, so you turned to face her with your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a liar,” her words nipped as her eyes bore into yours. And then, they flashed black—complete, solid black. Your eyes widened and you backed up so you were pressed up against the oven. 
“What the hell?” Your gaze moved back and forth between her eyes as you tried to figure out what was happening. 
“We aren’t there yet, hun,” her eyes returned to normal and a twisted smirk pulled up a corner of her lips. She took slow steps as she moved towards the end of the island. For every step she took, you took one as well. You still weren’t sure what was happening, but as it was with Dean, you wanted to keep this island between you. “I’m gonna need you to call your friend Dean and ask him to come back, sound good?” 
“Jen, what are you talking about?” At this point, your brain was swimming. 
“Jen’s not here right now, but you can leave a message if you’d like,” her eyes flashed black again and the palm of her hand outstretched to you. Suddenly, you were moving backwards rapidly. Your toes barely scraped the ground and as hard as you tried to push back against whatever force was moving you, you couldn’t. 
“The name’s Meg, nice to meet ya,” Jen/Meg pushed herself up onto the island so her feet dangled as she continued to just smirk at you. Your back was pressed against the wall of your kitchen, you couldn’t even lift your head if you tried. You were about a foot off of the ground and it felt difficult to breathe. “Your friend Dean and I, we go way back. But lately, he hasn’t wanted to talk to me on my terms. He can be a real pain in the ass, can’t he?” 
The force that held you to the wall had constricted your throat. It took everything in you to mutter, “Dean’s not my friend.”
“Does he know that?” she laughed as she hopped down off of the island and sauntered over to where your cell phone was placed on the counter top. While her back was to you, you tried to push against the invisible weight that held you. Still nothing. Your mind tried to think of every rational explanation, but there were none. “Something tells me if you give him a call and tell him I’ve stopped by, he may change his tune on having a little chat."
Suddenly, the hold she had over you was gone and you clambered to the floor. You weren’t expecting it, so you landed on your hands and knees, knowing well that it was going to leave a bruise. As you stood back up and rubbed your palms, you eyed the block of steak knives on the counter top. She followed your gaze. 
“Now, now,” she hummed. “I know you’re new to this whole demon thing, so I’ll throw you a bone. Anything you do to this body,” she waved her hands around Jen’s body. “Can and will hurt your bff, got it?”
You nodded once and reached out to take your cell phone from her. Your fingers were trembling again. You tried to brush it off as you hurriedly clicked through to unblock Dean’s number. Once it was unblocked, you pressed his name and hit ‘Call’.
After just two rings, you heard his voice say your name. Even after everything you had learned of Dean Winchester after the last few days, there was a flutter of relief in the pit of your stomach when you heard his voice. 
“Dean, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” you wished your voice sounded stronger, but it didn’t. Your hands shook as you handed the phone over to the woman (thing? Demon?) who looked like your friend. 
She took the phone with an accomplished smile that made you taste bile. All you could think about was what you had gotten yourself into. 
“Hi-ya, Dean-o, it’s Meg,” she continued to grin into the phone. Her eyes found yours as she sucked on her teeth. “Up for a chat?”
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Dean hadn’t gone far after he left your house, unbeknownst to you. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn’t shake and he just felt like he shouldn't leave. But also, he couldn’t. He had thought things with you could be so different. 
“We should go, Dean,” Sam had said once you had welcomed your friend in and closed the door. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of seeing your face contort when you saw him. You were afraid of him. 
“I can’t,” Dean muttered as his eyes stayed fixated on the front of your home. 
Sam didn’t say anything in response to that. Dean was just thankful his brother was there. When he couldn’t reach you from his phone over the last few days, his heart sank. And then when he realized his number had been blocked, he was confused. But now it all made sense.
“I should’ve just told her,” he cursed under his breath, his knuckles whitened as they tightened against the steering wheel of his rental car. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far without telling her.”
“Dean, she would’ve reacted the exact same way,” Sam tried to reassure him. “It’s why we’ve never been able to have a relationship with someone who isn’t a hunter or who hasn’t seen this stuff for themselves.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make Dean feel any better. 
But then his phone started to vibrate, and it was you. He hit the button to answer and pulled it to his ear, relieved that maybe you had changed your mind. 
But you hadn’t, and you were in trouble. “Goddammit, Meg.” He practically growled into the receiver of the phone as he shoved open the driver’s side door. Sam followed suit, and Dean filled him in as they jogged the few yards to your home. 
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A/N - Do you hate me yet? (Please don't hate me lol). So many of you asked for me to fix it after the last chapter. While we aren't quite there yet, we're getting there!! So sorry for another cliffhanger-ish (BUT I feel like it's not as bad as the last chapter's cliffhanger? lol).
Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, or commenting (or all of the above!). I appreciate you all and hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 7 may be posted early, but no promises! If not, it'll post on Thursday, 4/11!
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Chapter 7 Preview:
Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looks pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes move over you. 
“You alright?” He asks gruffly as his eyes do a sweep down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nod, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes return to yours with a look that reads as sympathetic, like he’s sorry. 
Before he can move again, Meg returns her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet leave the ground once more, and you can’t stop the scream that comes up from your belly as you’re pressed against the wall once more. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
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waywardxwords · 23 days
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I agree, I feel bad for both of them. But it definitely might play out in Dean’s favor now that she’s seeing he was telling the truth! Thanks for reading and reblogging, @foxyjwls007 !!
Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My! (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language,
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
[1][2][3][4][5]
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Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having (what you would describe) as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 
Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone slept with one). 
“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 
“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 
“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 
“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 
“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 
“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 
You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 
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Three days had passed since you flew home from Kansas. You had blocked Dean’s number, but you had gotten calls from other numbers you hadn’t recognized with all different area codes. You didn’t answer. It was then that you remembered Dean’s voicemail when you had called previously: “This is Dean’s other, other cell…”. Your stomach dropped when you connected the dots. 
The next step you took was removing yourself from the project that took you to Kansas. Your boss had warned you that you were making a terrible mistake, and you probably were (from a career standpoint, anyway). But it didn’t matter. You never wanted to step foot anywhere near Kansas again. 
Even knowing what you knew from the articles (which you had barely read; Jen did most of the reading and kept you informed on a need-to-know basis. Which was basically Jen just saying: “You’re gonna have to forget this one, friend.”)—your heart hurt. You felt immense pain being away from Dean, and trying to shove the memories from that night out. You Googled how to disassociate, or how to build walls around memories. But so far, nothing had worked. 
Jen encouraged you to do the most normal thing you could on a Friday night—have a dinner and movie night with her. So now, you stood in your kitchen over a pot of spaghetti watching the water boil. Normal, boring life. 
You couldn’t help yourself, though. On your kitchen island, your laptop sat opened up to one of the Google searches. Your excuse was that you wanted to run through it all with Jen when she arrived, but in actuality, you were hoping there would be something to prove all of this was a lie, and maybe you (and the police, and the detectives and the FBI) had gotten it all wrong.
As you watched the water bubble in hopes of creating some kind of distraction, there was a loud knock at your front door. Jen wasn’t supposed to be there for another twenty minutes or so, but she also knew you were having a hard time with all of this. As you made your way to the front door, you assumed she wanted to come over and take your mind off of the man you were trying desperately to forget. 
A quick swipe of your hands on your dish rag, you pulled the front door wide open in one swoop. 
“You’re…early,” your voice trailed off and you thought your eyes might roll out of your head with how wide they were. It wasn’t Jen. It was Dean. 
Your brain told you to slam the door and call 911. But Dean was quicker than that. He walked in through the open door in one stride, his brows knitted together as his green eyes searched you. You tried to figure out what he was looking for. 
“Are you alright?” His eyes moved as his hands gripped just above your elbows. You completely froze. 
“Dean, what are you…how did you find me?” A million questions ran through you as you tried to process. And determine what your next step would be. Could you defend yourself against him? Would you even try? 
As much as you knew, seeing him again flooded you with every ounce of feeling you felt while you were with him in Kansas. The smell of his cologne made you shiver.
“I couldn’t get ahold of you,” he removed his hands from you and began to walk around. He was searching your home—window sills, primarily. But what was he looking for? He ran his finger along them and checked. Dust? Something else? He couldn’t be crazy…right? Your internal dialogue mixed with this man you thought you knew even just after a few nights pacing in front of you made your head spin. 
From your kitchen island, he turned back towards you. His movements had slowed now and you placed his expression as one of being confused. 
“You’re…fine?” He asked slowly. 
You tried not to look at the island where your laptop sat opened to images of Dean’s (multiple) mug shots and news articles. You decided to try to reason with him. 
“Dean, if you’re worried I’m going to call the police or the FBI, I’m not,” you moved slowly from your spot in the doorway but made a mental note to leave the door open. It was your only immediate escape. You also noted how strange it was that Dean let you leave the door open. Wouldn’t some psycho murderer cover all of his bases? Nothing made sense, and you felt frustrated tears sting in your eyes. 
“The what?” He looked completely perplexed now. “I think I missed a chapter here, sweetheart.” His eyes stayed on you until your gaze moved to the island. Shit. His eyes followed and his face fell. “Oh.” ‘Oh’? That’s it? At that moment, you felt like the articles were true. “Listen, I can explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain, Dean!” You said a little too excitedly. “No harm, no foul, right?” You tried to force a chuckle as you slowly side-stepped to keep distance between you. 
Even though you thought you knew better, you swore you saw a wave of hurt pass over his face. 
“You haven’t committed any crimes here, Dean,” you said slowly. “You can just go and no one needs to know you were here.” You were almost to your kitchen island by now, and your goal was to put it between you and Dean. In your gut, you still found it impossible to believe Dean would lay a hand on you (well, in a negative way). But your head reminded you of the articles. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he emphasized as he put his hands up in front of him in a way of showing he meant you no harm. “None of this is what it looks like. And I realize people who commit crimes say that every day…” he trailed off as he tried to get the words out that would show you. “My brother and I, our job is a little bit different.”
Against your better judgment, you continued the conversation with him. “You said you were exterminators…” your words fell off as you processed. “Oh, God. Do you mean exterminating people?!” You hadn’t meant to squeal but you couldn’t help the inflection in your voice. “Are you like Dexter?!” Your eyes widened at the thought. 
“What? No! We don’t kill people,” Dean was exasperated as he tried to explain all of this to you. “Dammit, this is not how I wanted to tell you this.” Those words were almost muttered under his breath as he ran the palm of his hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, I know this is going to sound crazy…” literally everything you’ve learned in the last three days has sounded crazy, you thought. You nodded him on to continue, again against any judgment you had. “Just give me a few minutes to explain. We kill monsters.”
Come again? You didn’t have the courage to ask. But Dean just stared at you, waiting for some kind of reaction. 
“Monsters? What does that even mean?” You folded your arms across your chest protectively. 
“Like spirits and demons. That,” he pointed to the screen of your laptop. “Isn’t me.” There was a CCTV still shot of Dean with a gun aimed at people in a bank robbery turned hostage situation turned murder. Jen hadn’t given you the details on that one; you had to find it for yourself. “That’s a shapeshifter.” 
Your mouth ran dry. You couldn’t even swallow if you wanted to. “Jesus, you actually believe that’s real,” you muttered as you ran your fingers through your hair. You realized at that point you were shaking. You focused on just trying to breathe. 
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he spoke again. “I swear to you, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.” 
“Dean, if you truly mean me no harm, please leave,” you had never felt so conflicted before in your lifetime. The frustrated tears were back. You had truly thought Dean was different—amazing, even. But now you were second-guessing everything, your judgment included. 
It looked like Dean wanted to say something, but he stopped himself with a single nod. He put his head down and stared at the tile below his feet for a moment before he looked up again. “I’m really, truly, sorry,” he said, and it felt like he meant it. “I respect that. I’ll leave you alone.”
After one more glance at you, he moved to where the front door was still ajar and walked through, closing it behind him. 
Your eyes stayed glued on the door for a few moments in bewilderment. He had left easier than you thought he would. But your brain reminded you to move after a few seconds. You hurried to the door and bolted it, and locked the door knob. Your fingers still trembled as you touched the metal. 
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About ten minutes later, Jen arrived. The knock at the door made your heart stumble a bit. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. This time, you checked the peephole on your door before opening it. 
“Jen,” you sighed in relief when you pulled the door open. “God, am I glad to see you.” You had gone back and forth on whether or not to tell Jen that Dean had come to see you. He had left without incident, and you really didn’t understand how you were feeling at that moment. You knew he was crazy; demons? Spirits? And what the hell was a shapeshifter? But at the same time, he didn’t try to hurt you. And it seemed as though he wouldn’t even think of hurting you. 
“Have you heard from Dean lately?” Jen’s question hung in the air as you poured each of you a glass of wine. Something about her seemed a little off tonight, but it had been a long week and you hadn’t really gotten the chance to connect with her as often lately. 
“Nope,” you popped the sound of the ‘p’ as you slid her glass over to her and ignored her gaze. You could feel her staring as you turned so she was at your back and you scooped pasta onto a plate. “I mean, I’ve gotten some random numbers again, but that’s about it.” 
As you scooped, you heard Jen ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’. “I didn’t think you were a liar. Especially to the person you call your best friend.”
It seemed a little bit odd, so you turned to face her with your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a liar,” her words nipped as her eyes bore into yours. And then, they flashed black—complete, solid black. Your eyes widened and you backed up so you were pressed up against the oven. 
“What the hell?” Your gaze moved back and forth between her eyes as you tried to figure out what was happening. 
“We aren’t there yet, hun,” her eyes returned to normal and a twisted smirk pulled up a corner of her lips. She took slow steps as she moved towards the end of the island. For every step she took, you took one as well. You still weren’t sure what was happening, but as it was with Dean, you wanted to keep this island between you. “I’m gonna need you to call your friend Dean and ask him to come back, sound good?” 
“Jen, what are you talking about?” At this point, your brain was swimming. 
“Jen’s not here right now, but you can leave a message if you’d like,” her eyes flashed black again and the palm of her hand outstretched to you. Suddenly, you were moving backwards rapidly. Your toes barely scraped the ground and as hard as you tried to push back against whatever force was moving you, you couldn’t. 
“The name’s Meg, nice to meet ya,” Jen/Meg pushed herself up onto the island so her feet dangled as she continued to just smirk at you. Your back was pressed against the wall of your kitchen, you couldn’t even lift your head if you tried. You were about a foot off of the ground and it felt difficult to breathe. “Your friend Dean and I, we go way back. But lately, he hasn’t wanted to talk to me on my terms. He can be a real pain in the ass, can’t he?” 
The force that held you to the wall had constricted your throat. It took everything in you to mutter, “Dean’s not my friend.”
“Does he know that?” she laughed as she hopped down off of the island and sauntered over to where your cell phone was placed on the counter top. While her back was to you, you tried to push against the invisible weight that held you. Still nothing. Your mind tried to think of every rational explanation, but there were none. “Something tells me if you give him a call and tell him I’ve stopped by, he may change his tune on having a little chat."
Suddenly, the hold she had over you was gone and you clambered to the floor. You weren’t expecting it, so you landed on your hands and knees, knowing well that it was going to leave a bruise. As you stood back up and rubbed your palms, you eyed the block of steak knives on the counter top. She followed your gaze. 
“Now, now,” she hummed. “I know you’re new to this whole demon thing, so I’ll throw you a bone. Anything you do to this body,” she waved her hands around Jen’s body. “Can and will hurt your bff, got it?”
You nodded once and reached out to take your cell phone from her. Your fingers were trembling again. You tried to brush it off as you hurriedly clicked through to unblock Dean’s number. Once it was unblocked, you pressed his name and hit ‘Call’.
After just two rings, you heard his voice say your name. Even after everything you had learned of Dean Winchester after the last few days, there was a flutter of relief in the pit of your stomach when you heard his voice. 
“Dean, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” you wished your voice sounded stronger, but it didn’t. Your hands shook as you handed the phone over to the woman (thing? Demon?) who looked like your friend. 
She took the phone with an accomplished smile that made you taste bile. All you could think about was what you had gotten yourself into. 
“Hi-ya, Dean-o, it’s Meg,” she continued to grin into the phone. Her eyes found yours as she sucked on her teeth. “Up for a chat?”
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Dean hadn’t gone far after he left your house, unbeknownst to you. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn’t shake and he just felt like he shouldn't leave. But also, he couldn’t. He had thought things with you could be so different. 
“We should go, Dean,” Sam had said once you had welcomed your friend in and closed the door. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of seeing your face contort when you saw him. You were afraid of him. 
“I can’t,” Dean muttered as his eyes stayed fixated on the front of your home. 
Sam didn’t say anything in response to that. Dean was just thankful his brother was there. When he couldn’t reach you from his phone over the last few days, his heart sank. And then when he realized his number had been blocked, he was confused. But now it all made sense.
“I should’ve just told her,” he cursed under his breath, his knuckles whitened as they tightened against the steering wheel of his rental car. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far without telling her.”
“Dean, she would’ve reacted the exact same way,” Sam tried to reassure him. “It’s why we’ve never been able to have a relationship with someone who isn’t a hunter or who hasn’t seen this stuff for themselves.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make Dean feel any better. 
But then his phone started to vibrate, and it was you. He hit the button to answer and pulled it to his ear, relieved that maybe you had changed your mind. 
But you hadn’t, and you were in trouble. “Goddammit, Meg.” He practically growled into the receiver of the phone as he shoved open the driver’s side door. Sam followed suit, and Dean filled him in as they jogged the few yards to your home. 
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A/N - Do you hate me yet? (Please don't hate me lol). So many of you asked for me to fix it after the last chapter. While we aren't quite there yet, we're getting there!! So sorry for another cliffhanger-ish (BUT I feel like it's not as bad as the last chapter's cliffhanger? lol).
Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, or commenting (or all of the above!). I appreciate you all and hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 7 may be posted early, but no promises! If not, it'll post on Thursday, 4/11!
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Chapter 7 Preview:
Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looks pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes move over you. 
“You alright?” He asks gruffly as his eyes do a sweep down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nod, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes return to yours with a look that reads as sympathetic, like he’s sorry. 
Before he can move again, Meg returns her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet leave the ground once more, and you can’t stop the scream that comes up from your belly as you’re pressed against the wall once more. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
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waywardxwords · 23 days
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Oh, @zepskies! I adore you. Thank you for the wonderful feedback!
Ughh this part had my heart breaking for her. And also for Dean, since he's trying everything on his end to reach out to her. But of course her reaction to block him from everything was understandable...just like I should have expected Dean's reaction of tracking her down, fearing something happened to her. 😭
I'm so glad you could understand the conflict for both of them. They both are entitled to how they're feeling, but it's definitely complicated. Dean wasn't about to just let that one slide, lol.
So fun fact, the "Dexter" comment she makes has lived in my brain ever since I decided to make this a series, haha! I laughed, too, while writing it. It felt like a nice way to break up the seriousness of that moment, lol. Glad you liked it!
But fuuuuuuck I was NOT expecting MEG.
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Glad I could provide a little old twist, lol. Yeah, Meg throws a monkey wrench into things, for sure!
Thank you, again, for reading, friend! I appreciate you!
Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My! (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language,
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
[1][2][3][4][5]
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Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having (what you would describe) as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 
Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone slept with one). 
“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 
“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 
“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 
“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 
“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 
“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 
You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 
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Three days had passed since you flew home from Kansas. You had blocked Dean’s number, but you had gotten calls from other numbers you hadn’t recognized with all different area codes. You didn’t answer. It was then that you remembered Dean’s voicemail when you had called previously: “This is Dean’s other, other cell…”. Your stomach dropped when you connected the dots. 
The next step you took was removing yourself from the project that took you to Kansas. Your boss had warned you that you were making a terrible mistake, and you probably were (from a career standpoint, anyway). But it didn’t matter. You never wanted to step foot anywhere near Kansas again. 
Even knowing what you knew from the articles (which you had barely read; Jen did most of the reading and kept you informed on a need-to-know basis. Which was basically Jen just saying: “You’re gonna have to forget this one, friend.”)—your heart hurt. You felt immense pain being away from Dean, and trying to shove the memories from that night out. You Googled how to disassociate, or how to build walls around memories. But so far, nothing had worked. 
Jen encouraged you to do the most normal thing you could on a Friday night—have a dinner and movie night with her. So now, you stood in your kitchen over a pot of spaghetti watching the water boil. Normal, boring life. 
You couldn’t help yourself, though. On your kitchen island, your laptop sat opened up to one of the Google searches. Your excuse was that you wanted to run through it all with Jen when she arrived, but in actuality, you were hoping there would be something to prove all of this was a lie, and maybe you (and the police, and the detectives and the FBI) had gotten it all wrong.
As you watched the water bubble in hopes of creating some kind of distraction, there was a loud knock at your front door. Jen wasn’t supposed to be there for another twenty minutes or so, but she also knew you were having a hard time with all of this. As you made your way to the front door, you assumed she wanted to come over and take your mind off of the man you were trying desperately to forget. 
A quick swipe of your hands on your dish rag, you pulled the front door wide open in one swoop. 
“You’re…early,” your voice trailed off and you thought your eyes might roll out of your head with how wide they were. It wasn’t Jen. It was Dean. 
Your brain told you to slam the door and call 911. But Dean was quicker than that. He walked in through the open door in one stride, his brows knitted together as his green eyes searched you. You tried to figure out what he was looking for. 
“Are you alright?” His eyes moved as his hands gripped just above your elbows. You completely froze. 
“Dean, what are you…how did you find me?” A million questions ran through you as you tried to process. And determine what your next step would be. Could you defend yourself against him? Would you even try? 
As much as you knew, seeing him again flooded you with every ounce of feeling you felt while you were with him in Kansas. The smell of his cologne made you shiver.
“I couldn’t get ahold of you,” he removed his hands from you and began to walk around. He was searching your home—window sills, primarily. But what was he looking for? He ran his finger along them and checked. Dust? Something else? He couldn’t be crazy…right? Your internal dialogue mixed with this man you thought you knew even just after a few nights pacing in front of you made your head spin. 
From your kitchen island, he turned back towards you. His movements had slowed now and you placed his expression as one of being confused. 
“You’re…fine?” He asked slowly. 
You tried not to look at the island where your laptop sat opened to images of Dean’s (multiple) mug shots and news articles. You decided to try to reason with him. 
“Dean, if you’re worried I’m going to call the police or the FBI, I’m not,” you moved slowly from your spot in the doorway but made a mental note to leave the door open. It was your only immediate escape. You also noted how strange it was that Dean let you leave the door open. Wouldn’t some psycho murderer cover all of his bases? Nothing made sense, and you felt frustrated tears sting in your eyes. 
“The what?” He looked completely perplexed now. “I think I missed a chapter here, sweetheart.” His eyes stayed on you until your gaze moved to the island. Shit. His eyes followed and his face fell. “Oh.” ‘Oh’? That’s it? At that moment, you felt like the articles were true. “Listen, I can explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain, Dean!” You said a little too excitedly. “No harm, no foul, right?” You tried to force a chuckle as you slowly side-stepped to keep distance between you. 
Even though you thought you knew better, you swore you saw a wave of hurt pass over his face. 
“You haven’t committed any crimes here, Dean,” you said slowly. “You can just go and no one needs to know you were here.” You were almost to your kitchen island by now, and your goal was to put it between you and Dean. In your gut, you still found it impossible to believe Dean would lay a hand on you (well, in a negative way). But your head reminded you of the articles. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he emphasized as he put his hands up in front of him in a way of showing he meant you no harm. “None of this is what it looks like. And I realize people who commit crimes say that every day…” he trailed off as he tried to get the words out that would show you. “My brother and I, our job is a little bit different.”
Against your better judgment, you continued the conversation with him. “You said you were exterminators…” your words fell off as you processed. “Oh, God. Do you mean exterminating people?!” You hadn’t meant to squeal but you couldn’t help the inflection in your voice. “Are you like Dexter?!” Your eyes widened at the thought. 
“What? No! We don’t kill people,” Dean was exasperated as he tried to explain all of this to you. “Dammit, this is not how I wanted to tell you this.” Those words were almost muttered under his breath as he ran the palm of his hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, I know this is going to sound crazy…” literally everything you’ve learned in the last three days has sounded crazy, you thought. You nodded him on to continue, again against any judgment you had. “Just give me a few minutes to explain. We kill monsters.”
Come again? You didn’t have the courage to ask. But Dean just stared at you, waiting for some kind of reaction. 
“Monsters? What does that even mean?” You folded your arms across your chest protectively. 
“Like spirits and demons. That,” he pointed to the screen of your laptop. “Isn’t me.” There was a CCTV still shot of Dean with a gun aimed at people in a bank robbery turned hostage situation turned murder. Jen hadn’t given you the details on that one; you had to find it for yourself. “That’s a shapeshifter.” 
Your mouth ran dry. You couldn’t even swallow if you wanted to. “Jesus, you actually believe that’s real,” you muttered as you ran your fingers through your hair. You realized at that point you were shaking. You focused on just trying to breathe. 
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he spoke again. “I swear to you, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.” 
“Dean, if you truly mean me no harm, please leave,” you had never felt so conflicted before in your lifetime. The frustrated tears were back. You had truly thought Dean was different—amazing, even. But now you were second-guessing everything, your judgment included. 
It looked like Dean wanted to say something, but he stopped himself with a single nod. He put his head down and stared at the tile below his feet for a moment before he looked up again. “I’m really, truly, sorry,” he said, and it felt like he meant it. “I respect that. I’ll leave you alone.”
After one more glance at you, he moved to where the front door was still ajar and walked through, closing it behind him. 
Your eyes stayed glued on the door for a few moments in bewilderment. He had left easier than you thought he would. But your brain reminded you to move after a few seconds. You hurried to the door and bolted it, and locked the door knob. Your fingers still trembled as you touched the metal. 
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About ten minutes later, Jen arrived. The knock at the door made your heart stumble a bit. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. This time, you checked the peephole on your door before opening it. 
“Jen,” you sighed in relief when you pulled the door open. “God, am I glad to see you.” You had gone back and forth on whether or not to tell Jen that Dean had come to see you. He had left without incident, and you really didn’t understand how you were feeling at that moment. You knew he was crazy; demons? Spirits? And what the hell was a shapeshifter? But at the same time, he didn’t try to hurt you. And it seemed as though he wouldn’t even think of hurting you. 
“Have you heard from Dean lately?” Jen’s question hung in the air as you poured each of you a glass of wine. Something about her seemed a little off tonight, but it had been a long week and you hadn’t really gotten the chance to connect with her as often lately. 
“Nope,” you popped the sound of the ‘p’ as you slid her glass over to her and ignored her gaze. You could feel her staring as you turned so she was at your back and you scooped pasta onto a plate. “I mean, I’ve gotten some random numbers again, but that’s about it.” 
As you scooped, you heard Jen ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’. “I didn’t think you were a liar. Especially to the person you call your best friend.”
It seemed a little bit odd, so you turned to face her with your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a liar,” her words nipped as her eyes bore into yours. And then, they flashed black—complete, solid black. Your eyes widened and you backed up so you were pressed up against the oven. 
“What the hell?” Your gaze moved back and forth between her eyes as you tried to figure out what was happening. 
“We aren’t there yet, hun,” her eyes returned to normal and a twisted smirk pulled up a corner of her lips. She took slow steps as she moved towards the end of the island. For every step she took, you took one as well. You still weren’t sure what was happening, but as it was with Dean, you wanted to keep this island between you. “I’m gonna need you to call your friend Dean and ask him to come back, sound good?” 
“Jen, what are you talking about?” At this point, your brain was swimming. 
“Jen’s not here right now, but you can leave a message if you’d like,” her eyes flashed black again and the palm of her hand outstretched to you. Suddenly, you were moving backwards rapidly. Your toes barely scraped the ground and as hard as you tried to push back against whatever force was moving you, you couldn’t. 
“The name’s Meg, nice to meet ya,” Jen/Meg pushed herself up onto the island so her feet dangled as she continued to just smirk at you. Your back was pressed against the wall of your kitchen, you couldn’t even lift your head if you tried. You were about a foot off of the ground and it felt difficult to breathe. “Your friend Dean and I, we go way back. But lately, he hasn’t wanted to talk to me on my terms. He can be a real pain in the ass, can’t he?” 
The force that held you to the wall had constricted your throat. It took everything in you to mutter, “Dean’s not my friend.”
“Does he know that?” she laughed as she hopped down off of the island and sauntered over to where your cell phone was placed on the counter top. While her back was to you, you tried to push against the invisible weight that held you. Still nothing. Your mind tried to think of every rational explanation, but there were none. “Something tells me if you give him a call and tell him I’ve stopped by, he may change his tune on having a little chat."
Suddenly, the hold she had over you was gone and you clambered to the floor. You weren’t expecting it, so you landed on your hands and knees, knowing well that it was going to leave a bruise. As you stood back up and rubbed your palms, you eyed the block of steak knives on the counter top. She followed your gaze. 
“Now, now,” she hummed. “I know you’re new to this whole demon thing, so I’ll throw you a bone. Anything you do to this body,” she waved her hands around Jen’s body. “Can and will hurt your bff, got it?”
You nodded once and reached out to take your cell phone from her. Your fingers were trembling again. You tried to brush it off as you hurriedly clicked through to unblock Dean’s number. Once it was unblocked, you pressed his name and hit ‘Call’.
After just two rings, you heard his voice say your name. Even after everything you had learned of Dean Winchester after the last few days, there was a flutter of relief in the pit of your stomach when you heard his voice. 
“Dean, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” you wished your voice sounded stronger, but it didn’t. Your hands shook as you handed the phone over to the woman (thing? Demon?) who looked like your friend. 
She took the phone with an accomplished smile that made you taste bile. All you could think about was what you had gotten yourself into. 
“Hi-ya, Dean-o, it’s Meg,” she continued to grin into the phone. Her eyes found yours as she sucked on her teeth. “Up for a chat?”
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Dean hadn’t gone far after he left your house, unbeknownst to you. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn’t shake and he just felt like he shouldn't leave. But also, he couldn’t. He had thought things with you could be so different. 
“We should go, Dean,” Sam had said once you had welcomed your friend in and closed the door. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of seeing your face contort when you saw him. You were afraid of him. 
“I can’t,” Dean muttered as his eyes stayed fixated on the front of your home. 
Sam didn’t say anything in response to that. Dean was just thankful his brother was there. When he couldn’t reach you from his phone over the last few days, his heart sank. And then when he realized his number had been blocked, he was confused. But now it all made sense.
“I should’ve just told her,” he cursed under his breath, his knuckles whitened as they tightened against the steering wheel of his rental car. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far without telling her.”
“Dean, she would’ve reacted the exact same way,” Sam tried to reassure him. “It’s why we’ve never been able to have a relationship with someone who isn’t a hunter or who hasn’t seen this stuff for themselves.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make Dean feel any better. 
But then his phone started to vibrate, and it was you. He hit the button to answer and pulled it to his ear, relieved that maybe you had changed your mind. 
But you hadn’t, and you were in trouble. “Goddammit, Meg.” He practically growled into the receiver of the phone as he shoved open the driver’s side door. Sam followed suit, and Dean filled him in as they jogged the few yards to your home. 
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A/N - Do you hate me yet? (Please don't hate me lol). So many of you asked for me to fix it after the last chapter. While we aren't quite there yet, we're getting there!! So sorry for another cliffhanger-ish (BUT I feel like it's not as bad as the last chapter's cliffhanger? lol).
Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, or commenting (or all of the above!). I appreciate you all and hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 7 may be posted early, but no promises! If not, it'll post on Thursday, 4/11!
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Chapter 7 Preview:
Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looks pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes move over you. 
“You alright?” He asks gruffly as his eyes do a sweep down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nod, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes return to yours with a look that reads as sympathetic, like he’s sorry. 
Before he can move again, Meg returns her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet leave the ground once more, and you can’t stop the scream that comes up from your belly as you’re pressed against the wall once more. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
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waywardxwords · 23 days
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Chapter 6 - Demons, Spirits and Angels, Oh My! (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: Some angst, language,
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
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Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having (what you would describe) as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 
Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone slept with one). 
“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 
“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 
“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 
“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 
“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 
“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 
You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 
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Three days had passed since you flew home from Kansas. You had blocked Dean’s number, but you had gotten calls from other numbers you hadn’t recognized with all different area codes. You didn’t answer. It was then that you remembered Dean’s voicemail when you had called previously: “This is Dean’s other, other cell…”. Your stomach dropped when you connected the dots. 
The next step you took was removing yourself from the project that took you to Kansas. Your boss had warned you that you were making a terrible mistake, and you probably were (from a career standpoint, anyway). But it didn’t matter. You never wanted to step foot anywhere near Kansas again. 
Even knowing what you knew from the articles (which you had barely read; Jen did most of the reading and kept you informed on a need-to-know basis. Which was basically Jen just saying: “You’re gonna have to forget this one, friend.”)—your heart hurt. You felt immense pain being away from Dean, and trying to shove the memories from that night out. You Googled how to disassociate, or how to build walls around memories. But so far, nothing had worked. 
Jen encouraged you to do the most normal thing you could on a Friday night—have a dinner and movie night with her. So now, you stood in your kitchen over a pot of spaghetti watching the water boil. Normal, boring life. 
You couldn’t help yourself, though. On your kitchen island, your laptop sat opened up to one of the Google searches. Your excuse was that you wanted to run through it all with Jen when she arrived, but in actuality, you were hoping there would be something to prove all of this was a lie, and maybe you (and the police, and the detectives and the FBI) had gotten it all wrong.
As you watched the water bubble in hopes of creating some kind of distraction, there was a loud knock at your front door. Jen wasn’t supposed to be there for another twenty minutes or so, but she also knew you were having a hard time with all of this. As you made your way to the front door, you assumed she wanted to come over and take your mind off of the man you were trying desperately to forget. 
A quick swipe of your hands on your dish rag, you pulled the front door wide open in one swoop. 
“You’re…early,” your voice trailed off and you thought your eyes might roll out of your head with how wide they were. It wasn’t Jen. It was Dean. 
Your brain told you to slam the door and call 911. But Dean was quicker than that. He walked in through the open door in one stride, his brows knitted together as his green eyes searched you. You tried to figure out what he was looking for. 
“Are you alright?” His eyes moved as his hands gripped just above your elbows. You completely froze. 
“Dean, what are you…how did you find me?” A million questions ran through you as you tried to process. And determine what your next step would be. Could you defend yourself against him? Would you even try? 
As much as you knew, seeing him again flooded you with every ounce of feeling you felt while you were with him in Kansas. The smell of his cologne made you shiver.
“I couldn’t get ahold of you,” he removed his hands from you and began to walk around. He was searching your home—window sills, primarily. But what was he looking for? He ran his finger along them and checked. Dust? Something else? He couldn’t be crazy…right? Your internal dialogue mixed with this man you thought you knew even just after a few nights pacing in front of you made your head spin. 
From your kitchen island, he turned back towards you. His movements had slowed now and you placed his expression as one of being confused. 
“You’re…fine?” He asked slowly. 
You tried not to look at the island where your laptop sat opened to images of Dean’s (multiple) mug shots and news articles. You decided to try to reason with him. 
“Dean, if you’re worried I’m going to call the police or the FBI, I’m not,” you moved slowly from your spot in the doorway but made a mental note to leave the door open. It was your only immediate escape. You also noted how strange it was that Dean let you leave the door open. Wouldn’t some psycho murderer cover all of his bases? Nothing made sense, and you felt frustrated tears sting in your eyes. 
“The what?” He looked completely perplexed now. “I think I missed a chapter here, sweetheart.” His eyes stayed on you until your gaze moved to the island. Shit. His eyes followed and his face fell. “Oh.” ‘Oh’? That’s it? At that moment, you felt like the articles were true. “Listen, I can explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain, Dean!” You said a little too excitedly. “No harm, no foul, right?” You tried to force a chuckle as you slowly side-stepped to keep distance between you. 
Even though you thought you knew better, you swore you saw a wave of hurt pass over his face. 
“You haven’t committed any crimes here, Dean,” you said slowly. “You can just go and no one needs to know you were here.” You were almost to your kitchen island by now, and your goal was to put it between you and Dean. In your gut, you still found it impossible to believe Dean would lay a hand on you (well, in a negative way). But your head reminded you of the articles. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he emphasized as he put his hands up in front of him in a way of showing he meant you no harm. “None of this is what it looks like. And I realize people who commit crimes say that every day…” he trailed off as he tried to get the words out that would show you. “My brother and I, our job is a little bit different.”
Against your better judgment, you continued the conversation with him. “You said you were exterminators…” your words fell off as you processed. “Oh, God. Do you mean exterminating people?!” You hadn’t meant to squeal but you couldn’t help the inflection in your voice. “Are you like Dexter?!” Your eyes widened at the thought. 
“What? No! We don’t kill people,” Dean was exasperated as he tried to explain all of this to you. “Dammit, this is not how I wanted to tell you this.” Those words were almost muttered under his breath as he ran the palm of his hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, I know this is going to sound crazy…” literally everything you’ve learned in the last three days has sounded crazy, you thought. You nodded him on to continue, again against any judgment you had. “Just give me a few minutes to explain. We kill monsters.”
Come again? You didn’t have the courage to ask. But Dean just stared at you, waiting for some kind of reaction. 
“Monsters? What does that even mean?” You folded your arms across your chest protectively. 
“Like spirits and demons. That,” he pointed to the screen of your laptop. “Isn’t me.” There was a CCTV still shot of Dean with a gun aimed at people in a bank robbery turned hostage situation turned murder. Jen hadn’t given you the details on that one; you had to find it for yourself. “That’s a shapeshifter.” 
Your mouth ran dry. You couldn’t even swallow if you wanted to. “Jesus, you actually believe that’s real,” you muttered as you ran your fingers through your hair. You realized at that point you were shaking. You focused on just trying to breathe. 
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he spoke again. “I swear to you, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.” 
“Dean, if you truly mean me no harm, please leave,” you had never felt so conflicted before in your lifetime. The frustrated tears were back. You had truly thought Dean was different—amazing, even. But now you were second-guessing everything, your judgment included. 
It looked like Dean wanted to say something, but he stopped himself with a single nod. He put his head down and stared at the tile below his feet for a moment before he looked up again. “I’m really, truly, sorry,” he said, and it felt like he meant it. “I respect that. I’ll leave you alone.”
After one more glance at you, he moved to where the front door was still ajar and walked through, closing it behind him. 
Your eyes stayed glued on the door for a few moments in bewilderment. He had left easier than you thought he would. But your brain reminded you to move after a few seconds. You hurried to the door and bolted it, and locked the door knob. Your fingers still trembled as you touched the metal. 
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About ten minutes later, Jen arrived. The knock at the door made your heart stumble a bit. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat. This time, you checked the peephole on your door before opening it. 
“Jen,” you sighed in relief when you pulled the door open. “God, am I glad to see you.” You had gone back and forth on whether or not to tell Jen that Dean had come to see you. He had left without incident, and you really didn’t understand how you were feeling at that moment. You knew he was crazy; demons? Spirits? And what the hell was a shapeshifter? But at the same time, he didn’t try to hurt you. And it seemed as though he wouldn’t even think of hurting you. 
“Have you heard from Dean lately?” Jen’s question hung in the air as you poured each of you a glass of wine. Something about her seemed a little off tonight, but it had been a long week and you hadn’t really gotten the chance to connect with her as often lately. 
“Nope,” you popped the sound of the ‘p’ as you slid her glass over to her and ignored her gaze. You could feel her staring as you turned so she was at your back and you scooped pasta onto a plate. “I mean, I’ve gotten some random numbers again, but that’s about it.” 
As you scooped, you heard Jen ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’. “I didn’t think you were a liar. Especially to the person you call your best friend.”
It seemed a little bit odd, so you turned to face her with your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a liar,” her words nipped as her eyes bore into yours. And then, they flashed black—complete, solid black. Your eyes widened and you backed up so you were pressed up against the oven. 
“What the hell?” Your gaze moved back and forth between her eyes as you tried to figure out what was happening. 
“We aren’t there yet, hun,” her eyes returned to normal and a twisted smirk pulled up a corner of her lips. She took slow steps as she moved towards the end of the island. For every step she took, you took one as well. You still weren’t sure what was happening, but as it was with Dean, you wanted to keep this island between you. “I’m gonna need you to call your friend Dean and ask him to come back, sound good?” 
“Jen, what are you talking about?” At this point, your brain was swimming. 
“Jen’s not here right now, but you can leave a message if you’d like,” her eyes flashed black again and the palm of her hand outstretched to you. Suddenly, you were moving backwards rapidly. Your toes barely scraped the ground and as hard as you tried to push back against whatever force was moving you, you couldn’t. 
“The name’s Meg, nice to meet ya,” Jen/Meg pushed herself up onto the island so her feet dangled as she continued to just smirk at you. Your back was pressed against the wall of your kitchen, you couldn’t even lift your head if you tried. You were about a foot off of the ground and it felt difficult to breathe. “Your friend Dean and I, we go way back. But lately, he hasn’t wanted to talk to me on my terms. He can be a real pain in the ass, can’t he?” 
The force that held you to the wall had constricted your throat. It took everything in you to mutter, “Dean’s not my friend.”
“Does he know that?” she laughed as she hopped down off of the island and sauntered over to where your cell phone was placed on the counter top. While her back was to you, you tried to push against the invisible weight that held you. Still nothing. Your mind tried to think of every rational explanation, but there were none. “Something tells me if you give him a call and tell him I’ve stopped by, he may change his tune on having a little chat."
Suddenly, the hold she had over you was gone and you clambered to the floor. You weren’t expecting it, so you landed on your hands and knees, knowing well that it was going to leave a bruise. As you stood back up and rubbed your palms, you eyed the block of steak knives on the counter top. She followed your gaze. 
“Now, now,” she hummed. “I know you’re new to this whole demon thing, so I’ll throw you a bone. Anything you do to this body,” she waved her hands around Jen’s body. “Can and will hurt your bff, got it?”
You nodded once and reached out to take your cell phone from her. Your fingers were trembling again. You tried to brush it off as you hurriedly clicked through to unblock Dean’s number. Once it was unblocked, you pressed his name and hit ‘Call’.
After just two rings, you heard his voice say your name. Even after everything you had learned of Dean Winchester after the last few days, there was a flutter of relief in the pit of your stomach when you heard his voice. 
“Dean, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” you wished your voice sounded stronger, but it didn’t. Your hands shook as you handed the phone over to the woman (thing? Demon?) who looked like your friend. 
She took the phone with an accomplished smile that made you taste bile. All you could think about was what you had gotten yourself into. 
“Hi-ya, Dean-o, it’s Meg,” she continued to grin into the phone. Her eyes found yours as she sucked on her teeth. “Up for a chat?”
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Dean hadn’t gone far after he left your house, unbeknownst to you. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach he couldn’t shake and he just felt like he shouldn't leave. But also, he couldn’t. He had thought things with you could be so different. 
“We should go, Dean,” Sam had said once you had welcomed your friend in and closed the door. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling of seeing your face contort when you saw him. You were afraid of him. 
“I can’t,” Dean muttered as his eyes stayed fixated on the front of your home. 
Sam didn’t say anything in response to that. Dean was just thankful his brother was there. When he couldn’t reach you from his phone over the last few days, his heart sank. And then when he realized his number had been blocked, he was confused. But now it all made sense.
“I should’ve just told her,” he cursed under his breath, his knuckles whitened as they tightened against the steering wheel of his rental car. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far without telling her.”
“Dean, she would’ve reacted the exact same way,” Sam tried to reassure him. “It’s why we’ve never been able to have a relationship with someone who isn’t a hunter or who hasn’t seen this stuff for themselves.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make Dean feel any better. 
But then his phone started to vibrate, and it was you. He hit the button to answer and pulled it to his ear, relieved that maybe you had changed your mind. 
But you hadn’t, and you were in trouble. “Goddammit, Meg.” He practically growled into the receiver of the phone as he shoved open the driver’s side door. Sam followed suit, and Dean filled him in as they jogged the few yards to your home. 
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A/N - Do you hate me yet? (Please don't hate me lol). So many of you asked for me to fix it after the last chapter. While we aren't quite there yet, we're getting there!! So sorry for another cliffhanger-ish (BUT I feel like it's not as bad as the last chapter's cliffhanger? lol).
Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, or commenting (or all of the above!). I appreciate you all and hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 7 may be posted early, but no promises! If not, it'll post on Thursday, 4/11!
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Chapter 7 Preview:
Moments after Meg hung up the phone, your front door swung open. He looks pissed, and a little bit concerned, as his eyes move over you. 
“You alright?” He asks gruffly as his eyes do a sweep down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nod, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes return to yours with a look that reads as sympathetic, like he’s sorry. 
Before he can move again, Meg returns her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet leave the ground once more, and you can’t stop the scream that comes up from your belly as you’re pressed against the wall once more. 
“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 
“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”
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waywardxwords · 26 days
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I’m so glad you enjoyed it, @rizlowwritessortof 😂💜 the “what’d I tell you about that lip” line was one of my favorites 😏. But I agree with you - the man can say just about anything and my knees get weak lol.
I’m sorry for the ending 😝 I will certainly try my best. The next chapter is a doozy but stay with me! Lol.
Thanks for reading and reblogging! I appreciate you 💜
Chapter 5 - Last Names (Taking Chances)
Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.
Chapter Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, please do not continue if you are under the age of 18, language, fluff
Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader
Word Count: ~4.8k (this is a doozy, possibly one of the longest chapters I've ever written!
[1] [2] [3] [4]
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You had never consumed (nor had you seen someone consume) a burger so quickly before in your life. It was a good burger, but that wasn’t what you could focus on.
When Alice came back to the table to check out–ahem, on–you (but mostly Dean), his gaze didn’t even move from yours. 
“We’ll take the check now, Alice,” he said carefully as he watched you. The way his eyes studied you made you feel naked. It was like nothing else existed in the world but you. Heat climbed your chest in blotchy patches until they formed islands on your neck, your cheeks. The way your heart pounded against your sternum felt so loud, you could hear each beat in your ears. This man was doing something to you, and that was something you hadn’t experienced in too long.
“Here you go, sugar,” Alice gingerly placed the bill in the middle of the table. She watched Dean intently, certainly hoping for maybe one more look into those beautiful green eyes. He glanced quickly with a smile as he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet. He tossed enough cash to cover the meal and the tip on the table, then back to you.
“Thanks, Alice,” he said, without missing another beat. He stood and held his hand out for you to take. “You wanna get outta here?”
Words seemed to fail you for a second, so you just nodded very quickly. Before he could pull you towards the door, he grabbed the grocery bag with the cherry pie you had brought.
“Oh, you forgot to eat your pie,” you murmured as you followed him through the diner.
“I was thinking we might have a different dessert tonight,” he paused at the door as his eyes looked over you once more. You realized he was asking if that’s what you wanted, too. Yet again, all you could do was nod.
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Dean’s fingers laced through yours as he led you across the parking lot. The rapid beating of your heart hadn’t slowed, but there was a brief moment you felt the pad of his thumb brush the top of yours to your knuckle and back that made your heart skip. 
After a second or two, he had spun you so your back was pressed against his back passenger door. The sound of the grocery bag rustled as he tossed it into the front passenger seat and turned his attention back to you.
You mentally (and physically) gulped.
The way his eyes searched your face one last time, the way his hands cupped your cheeks. It was electric, or maybe even more magnetic. Every time you lost contact with his skin, you craved more. It was as though there was this pull between you that kept drawing you back. 
“God, what is it about you?” He breathed the question, and you couldn’t blame him. You had been wondering the same about him. How you couldn’t stop thinking about him after your random encounter in Atlanta. Or the way you couldn’t sit still long enough to meet him in Salina the night before. And now tonight–the way you couldn’t compose yourself after he started blatantly flirting with you.
“Ever since you kissed me last night,” you tested your bravery as your eyes moved over his lips and noted how they glistened in the yellow glow of the street light he had parked under. “I’ve wanted more.” You looked back to his eyes just long enough to see the shadow of his lashes as his lips curve up in a smirk.
After his gaze moved from your eyes to your mouth once more, his lips pressed against yours and moved slowly. 
Your hands found his wrists as he still held your face. He moved one hand down to wrap behind you so you were caught between him and his car. The way his body blocked over you made your head spin. Dean tilted his head a bit to get a better angle, and you felt his tongue gently move over your bottom lip. Without wasting another moment, you welcomed him inside.
The skin of your back felt cool as it pressed against the metal of his car and the glass window, but there was warmth where his hand held you–pressed against your lower back carefully, but strategically to apply just the right amount of pressure so you could feel every inch of his chest, his hips, his thighs…
There was a pause from him and the sound of your kiss ending echoed in your ears. You searched his eyes for a moment, and you saw hesitation. 
“Maybe we should slow down a little bit,” he half-heartedly chuckled as his eyes fell over you. 
“Dean?” You made sure your eye contact with him was solid so he knew you meant it. “I live the most mundane life. If you looked up the definition of boring, my life would be next to it as an example.” Dean laughed softly but brought his fingers up to brush a strand of your hair back that had blown freely with the wind. “Meeting you has been one of the most serendipitous things that’s happened to me, I think. I want this. I want you.”
Another moment passed before Dean’s lips were back on yours, but more slowly this time; purposeful. 
“Okay, then,” he said softly as he broke away once more, the lowness of his voice sent another shudder below your skin. “Serendipitous.” He repeated before he kissed you once more. The word sounded like magic as it rolled off of his tongue.
His hands moved more freely now as they both gripped your hips. His thumbs looped in your belt loops as your hands roamed his chest. 
“Can we go to your place?” You asked, breathlessly. You were even slightly surprised at your forwardness, but you didn’t let it stop you. His eyes darted between yours and you sensed hesitation.
“I can’t, my, uh, my brother’s there,” his answer sounded hesitant, but you were distracted by the way your heart pulsated in your chest. 
You nibbled on your bottom lip for a moment as you tried to think of a solution. The fire in the pit of your stomach didn’t help, but instead urged you to come up with something. 
Dean quickly opened his passenger door once more and held it open for you. “I’ll find a place,” he motioned. There was a sense of giddiness that overtook you as you slid into the Impala. It was something about the recklessness that you never allowed yourself to encounter, and the man practically jogging around the front of the car. The smell of leather of the seats mixed with Dean’s faded cologne, you could hardly contain yourself. This man was like a drug, and you were officially hooked. 
He pushed the key into the ignition and the engine roared to life. You couldn’t help but slide over the bench seat so you were pressed to his side. As he put the car into drive, your lips found the soft spot just below his ear lobe. Your lips smoothed over the stubble covered skin, and your teeth nibbled gently. 
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he practically hissed through his teeth. “You’re makin’ me crazy, here.” A gentle chuckle rumbled in his chest. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” you pulled back but felt a different kind of heat pull to your cheeks; this time, it was slight embarrassment. “I’m sorry, just something with you…this just feels so different.”
“Oh, you mean you don’t usually jump your date?” Dean eyed you with a glance as he drove, but a small smile formed on his lips. 
Ugh, the embarrassment took over (after your insides tingled a bit at the way he said ‘date’) and you pulled your hand over your face. 
“Hey, now,” Dean took one hand off the wheel and gently pulled yours away from your face so he could see you. “Don’t go hiding on me. There’s nothin’ wrong with this, sweetheart. I was just kidding.” His words were gentle, but you could still hear the roughness in his tone as his blood pumped through his body from your closeness to him. “I just want to be very clear—whether anything happens tonight or not, I’ve had the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
The car was filled with darkness as he turned down a road with limited street lights. But in the glow of the moonlight, you could see the white of his teeth and shadows of his features that told you he was telling the truth. 
“Me too, Dean,” your words came in a whisper. “But to answer your question,” you cleared your throat and looked down at your hands now in your lap before you continued. “No, I most definitely do not jump my dates. Especially ones who I don’t even know their last name.” You laughed, the song Last Name by Carrie Underwood played for a moment in your brain.. 
“Ha,” he laughed out loud as stole another glimpse at you before looking back at the road. “Fair enough. And it’s Winchester.” He answered with a smile. Winchester, you made a mental note.
You offered up your last name before the next question came. “Do you…do you regularly seduce your date on the…” you contemplated. What date was this, exactly? “Second date?” It came as two questions, really. The first being if Dean did this on a regular basis; the second questioning which date this was, exactly. 
Dean turned into a parking lot of a quaint building. As he pulled into a parking spot, he answered. “Well, first of all, no. I, uh,” he cleared his throat somewhat uncomfortably as he continued. “I haven’t been in this kind of situation in…a while.” That was a relief. “And secondly, this is our third date, not second.” You did the mental math and realized he was kind of right, counting when you met in Atlanta. “Technically it could be our fourth…dinner in Atlanta and then hanging out in the hotel.” You rolled your eyes. 
“Oh, come on—if we’re counting that as our first date, it definitely only counts as one,” you smirked, which caused Dean to chuckle again. 
“That was the longest first date I’ve ever been on,” Dean had turned his body so he faced you now. 
You contemplated that. “Huh, ya know, I think it was the longest first date I’ve ever been on, too.”
“See? It should count as two,” Dean winked. His fingers found yours on what little slice of seat was left between the two of you. “In all seriousness,” he glanced down at your hands where your fingers melded together. “This is a bed and breakfast. I’d love to spend the night with you here, even if that means just watching old horror classics and talking like we did in Atlanta.”
His words brought a wave over you that you managed to wade through. It was different. While you hadn’t been with anyone in a long time, you were still used to a different pressure with guys pre Dean. He wasn’t like the others, and that was clear. 
You nodded just as Dean brought your hands to his lips and left a soft kiss. “Good,” he gently dropped your hands and turned to open the driver's side door. You scooted back over to the passenger door and opened it to step into the cool Kansas air. Dean waited just in front of the Impala for you and smiled as you approached, with a reach for your hand. 
Being with Dean felt easy; freeing, almost. The two of you walked through the front door of the bed and breakfast and smiled at the older woman behind the counter.
“Oh, hello!” She beamed. “Checking in?”
“Wanted to see if you had a room, by chance,” Dean fished for his wallet out of his back pocket and you took in the surroundings. This place was charming. It was an older building, but had modern updates. Dean paid for the room and the woman handed over the key.
“Check out is at 11am, but we can make an exception for later, if needed,” somehow you thought you saw a wink in there. Jesus, all the women love him, the thought played through your mind as you smirked with a shake of your head. Maybe it wasn’t just you who had a magnetic pull to the mysterious Dean Winchester.
“No problem, thank you so much,” Dean smiled as he took the key and turned towards the stairs with you. The woman watched as you ascended, probably wondering where your luggage was, which made your cheeks warm again.
“I forgot, I have to be at the airport in the morning. I’ll have to leave by four if I want to make it,” you whispered to Dean as you approached the door with the number 7 on it. 
“Ah, shit. I didn’t think about that,” Dean hesitated for a moment. “It’s only about 9 now. You wanna stay, or head back? I don’t mind either way.” He gave you another out, just in case (which you appreciated).
“No, no,” you shook your head and took the key from him. “I’ll be fine. Who needs sleep anyway?” You slipped the key into the doorknob and turned. 
The door opened to a quaint room—light gray walls with white molding. There was a king-sized bed up against a wall facing a flat screen television. Another door opened up into a beautiful bathroom with white marble tiling and a glass shower with a small vanity. 
“This is so nice,” you muttered as you took in the room. It felt elegant and like something you wouldn’t find in Lebanon, Kansas. 
“It really is,” Dean took in the surroundings, as well. “I’ve always heard good things.” He moved to pull his leather jacket off to reveal a dark green t-shirt. 
Your eyes traveled down his torso—the way it formed to fit every muscle in his chest, and the way it clung to his biceps. You’d be a remiss if you didn’t acknowledge the way it took your breath away. 
“So, what’ll it be? Horror movie? Comedy? I’ll even suck up a chick-flick if that’s what you’re feelin’,” he had reached for the remote but his eyes were on you; you could feel it even before you turned to see it for yourself. 
This is crazy, you barely know the man. But you felt like you did. You knew of the things he had been through; the pain and trauma. You knew he had kind eyes–sometimes a little mischievous as they practically undressed you in the diner.
“Dean?” Your eyes watched him closely as you stepped towards him. He seemed hesitant, maybe. A little unsure of what your intentions were. 
“Hmm?” He hummed back and you noticed he rocked on his heels for a second. 
“Kiss me?” It came out as a question, though you had hoped it’d be a clear statement. 
His eyes darted from your gaze to your lips, then back once more. And then his lips were on yours again, this time more intense than the last. It felt as though he had given you every opportunity to change your mind, and upon realizing you hadn’t, he kissed you in a way you truly felt you had never been kissed before. 
You took the lead this time and let your tongue move across his bottom lip. Almost instantly, his mouth opened and allowed you in. Tangled breaths mixed between you as Dean moved backward with his hands pulling your hips until the backs of his legs hit the bed. 
There was a brief separation as your eyes moved between one another, and then just as quickly, Dean pulled the hem of his shirt up until it was over his head. That was where you froze—your eyes traced from his freckled shoulders, down his chest, to his abs and landed where his jeans were buttoned. 
“You okay, sweetheart?” There was a teasing tone to his voice as you caught his eyes once more. 
Your tongue darted out to lick your lips quickly, and you managed a nod. “You are…” words failed you as you tried not to stare. There was an interesting tattoo on his chest–it almost looked like a sun, but you weren’t sure. Your eyes were glazed over with need.
“Your turn,” his words sent a shiver from the top of your spine to the tips of your toes. Your teeth instinctively found the inside of your bottom lip again. 
Dean’s fingers were quick to settle below your chin, his thumb gently pulled down below your lip to release it. 
“It makes me crazy when you do that,” his voice was so low and gruff. He pulled your blazer down off of your shoulders until it fell to the carpeted ground below your feet. Your fingertips found the hem of your blouse and pulled it over your head. It wasn't until then that you realized how hard you were breathing, as the tops of your breasts rose and fell. 
Just as insecurities about your body began to drift back into your brain, you pushed forward to connect your lips to his. He faltered only for a second before he welcomed the kiss, his fingertips working quickly on the clasp of your bra behind your back. 
The cool air nipped at spots on your skin that had been covered before. Dean pulled away for a moment to take it all in. 
“God, you’re beautiful,” his chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath he took. 
With the palms of your hands, you pressed against his chest so he fell back on the bed. He leaned back on his elbows with a grin across his face and you swore you could see a spark in his eyes. 
“C’mere,” he urged, and you knew he didn’t have to tell you twice. You moved so you were on top of him, planting kisses on his lips, his cheek, his neck. You felt the slight swell of your lips as it scratched upon the rough stubble on his jaw line. 
Dean wasted no time in rolling so you were underneath him, which elicited a small giggle from you. 
His fingertips traced from your cheek, down your neck, to your collarbone. Then the top of your breast, until his thumb was strategically placed over your nipple where he rubbed until it sprouted into an even harder bud than it already was. 
“Dean,” it came as a hiss. Your eyes had closed so tightly, you couldn’t even see the warm yellow glow from the table lamp. The soft cotton sheets pooled between your fingertips as you clutched for some stability. 
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart,” his lips replaced his thumb and you thought you might explode. His hand moved down your stomach, cradling your side smoothly as he continued his path until he reached the waistband of your pants. Seemingly expertly, he maneuvered his fingers until you felt the pop of the metal button being released. 
When his hands urged your hips upward, you complied. You lifted your hips so he could shimmy the pants off of your hips until they collected near your ankles. One kick was all it took to send them to the carpeted floor. 
Dean kneeled up on his knees as he undid his jeans painfully slowly, you felt. Patience wasn’t in the cards for you, so you sat up and moved your hands over his to undo them quicker. You didn’t miss the smirk across his face or the way his eyes bore into you as you worked. 
Before he discarded his jeans, he reached into the back pocket for his wallet and retrieved a square foil packet. 
Still on his knees, Dean eyed your burgundy panties and traced the small trail of wetness he found there with his thumb, causing you to moan out again as you tried to writhe against his hand. 
“You’re already so ready for me, sweetheart,” he crooned just as he reached up to the elastic waistband and gave another tug. 
There was no more room for insecurities; you were already too far gone. As Dean slid the panties down your legs, you felt the length of him against your knee. 
“You seem pretty turned on yourself, Mr. Winchester,” you attempted your best flirtation back. 
“Oh, and then some, Atlanta,” he breathed as his fingers found your folds and smoothed over them. The back of your head dug into the mattress as his fingers worked you over. 
A fire burned deep in the pit of your belly, and the only person who could extinguish it was Dean Winchester, you were sure of it. 
He slipped his index finger in and simultaneously continued circling your clit. Your fingers released the death grip on the sheets and tangled in his short hair. With the other hand, you traveled down Dean’s chest until you found what you were looking for. You moved your hand along his hardened cock under the waistband of his boxers, allowing your thumb to smooth over the tip. 
“Jesus,” he murmured as you moved, his fingers matching rhythm with your hand. 
Dean positioned himself over you again, his lips taking yours in a hasty kiss. The feeling of him pressing in all of the right places, paired with his lips on yours and the feeling of him in your hand, you thought you may combust. 
“More,” was all you could muster out between the trail of his lips, but it seemed like he didn’t have to be told more than once, either. 
He leaned back and tore into the foil packet with his teeth before removing the condom and rolling it onto his cock. 
Goosebumps trailed your skin as you watched, and you couldn’t help but take your bottom lip captive between your teeth once more. 
“What’d I tell you about that lip?” Dean moved over you once more as he settled between your legs and pulled your lip down with his thumb. Then, he dropped the volume but his voice rasped, “That lip drives me crazy.”
Your eyes met and just before he entered you, you quipped back. “Show me.”
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It was 3:44 when Dean tilted his head to glance at the neon green numbers on the nightstand. You felt his groan rumble through his chest where your head was planted as you traced his freckles. 
He dropped a quick kiss to your hairline. “We gotta get you back to your car, sweetheart. You have a flight to catch in a few hours.”
Your groan matched his as you buried your head in his chest, hoping that maybe if you did, you could stay there forever. “I don’t wanna.”
That elicited a chuckle from him. “Trust me, if we could stay like this, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Dean had extinguished that fire in your belly, but then relit it. And extinguished it again…and then once more in the shower. “I know, I know,” you grumbled as Dean reluctantly pulled away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. 
“Back to reality,” he chirped with a quick smack to your ass. 
“Hey!” You laughed as you turned towards him, your breasts exposed. 
“Goddamn, woman. You gotta get dressed before you miss your flight,” he turned away to gather his clothes.
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The Impala roared to life as Dean drove you back to your car parked at the restaurant. You sat similarly to how you did on the way to the bed and breakfast—pressed against his side, his fingers interlocked with yours tracing small patterns upon the top of your hand. 
It only took a few minutes to get back to where your rental car was parked at Jiffy Burger. It was almost four o’clock in the morning and your body was tired, but your adrenaline was still pumping. You didn’t want the night to end. 
Dean cut the engine as a sigh passed through his lips. “I hate how late it is and how far you have to go. You sure you don’t want me to follow you back to Salina?”
“I’m sure, Dean. It’s late, or early I guess, but I’ll be fine. Tonight was well worth it. Besides, I’ll just sleep on the plane,” your lips found his cheek for a quick kiss.
He groaned. “I hate that you’re leaving.” He sounded genuine, and you had to admit you felt the same. 
“I know, but it gives us something to look forward to. For next time,” your teeth found the inside of your lip again, but Dean caught it with his thumb quickly this time. 
“Guess I’m gonna have to get comfortable flying, huh?” He smirked before he pulled you close for a kiss. 
As you both got out of the Impala, you walked slowly to your rental where he pulled you in once more. It was a kiss you wouldn’t forget, that was certain. 
“Might as well sign up for a frequent flier program now,” you whispered with your eyes still closed. 
“Does that get me an invite to the Mile High club, too?” He teased, a laugh escaped him as you poked his side. 
“Only if I’m flying with you,” you half-teased back as you reached back to open the driver’s side door. 
“I’ll fly every goddamn day if that’s what’s waiting for me,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you lowered the window and he leaned through on his forearms. 
“Bye, Dean,” it came out in a breath as you pressed your lips to his once more. 
“Bye, sweetheart. Call me when you get there,” it wasn’t a question. 
“It’ll be like, six AM. You should be sleeping by then,” you said as you fastened your seatbelt. 
“I won’t be able to sleep, trust me,” his lips pulled up in a small smile before he kissed you once more. He ran his hand down the side of your face and pulled away. “See you soon, Atlanta.”
“You better,” you called back as you took one last look at him before you put the car in drive. 
“Drive safe,” you heard him call out, just as you eased on the gas. 
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The two hour drive hadn’t been as brutal as you expected. There wasn’t any traffic, and Dean ended up calling you thirty minutes in, just to check in. 
He kept your mind alert by talking about anything and everything. What your family was like, if you had any siblings. You told him that you were an only child, but you felt like you had a sister in your best friend, Jen. He told you about his brother, and the pranks they’d pull on each other. 
Before you knew it, you were already back in your hotel parking lot. 
“I’m here, Dean,” you murmured as you disconnected your phone from Bluetooth and pulled the device to your ear. 
“Good,” his voice was gruff—he could fib all he wanted, but you knew he was exhausted. “Thanks for coming all this way to see me. I really, really enjoyed tonight.” 
Your cheeks rounded as you couldn’t fight the smile that came from his words. “Me too, Dean. Get some sleep. I’ll text you when I land.” 
“Night, sweetheart,” and with that, you both hung up. 
You knew Jen would be waking up right about now, so as you gathered your purse and climbed out of the car, you sent her a quick text. 
You’ll never guess where I’ve been all night…
You fished out your hotel key and headed for the lobby. Just before you got on the elevator, your cell buzzed. 
Jen All night?! Bitch, it’s 6am. Have you not slept?! 
Before you could even type back, another came through. 
Jen NO YOU DID NOT. Mysterious Dean?! Airplane man?? Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend? Tell me you at least got his last name before you did the deed. 
The elevator dinged as you reached your floor. You typed back as you walked the short distance to your room. 
Yes ma’am, I did. He’s amazing. He’s kind and funny and sexy and god, it had been way too long. I’m proud of myself ;)
As your door clicked open, you sighed. You’d have to leave shortly for the airport, but you had a few minutes to spare. 
Jen Well good, I’m happy for you. But you should still Google him…just in case. You never know these days. 
You didn’t feel like you needed to Google Dean, but at the same time, there was a sense of yearning to know all about him (and who didn’t have an online footprint?). 
As you picked at your cuticle, you sat down in front of your laptop and opened up Chrome. 
“Dean Winchester”, you typed and hit enter. 
And as the page loaded, you did a double take. Then, a triple take. 
Your heart plummeted into your stomach and you felt like you might actually vomit. There were so many headlines, but the top one was enough, paired with a mugshot that matched his face: Suspected Murderer, Dean Winchester, Found Deceased
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A/N: SURPRISE! I've been bit by the writing bug and I couldn't help but post this early. Mostly because after this chapter, I don't feel right making you wait a week to see what happens next. Sorrrry for the cliffhanger. <3
Chapter 6 will be posted on Thursday!
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Chapter 6 Preview:
Whiplash. It was the only way you knew how to describe going from having, what you would describe as the best night of your life, to spiraling down to the worst feeling you had ever felt. 
Jen was the only person you knew to call—she knew you and knew how boring your life was (and how long it had been since you had even looked at a man, let alone sleep with one). 
“This feels really, really dangerous,” you could tell by her tone that she really didn’t know what to say. 
“No shit, Sherlock,” you wanted to cry but you couldn’t even get tears to fall. You had never been in shock before, but you assumed it might feel something like this. “What do I do? Call one of those police departments? The FBI? …Homeland Security?” The thoughts were racing. 
“Take a breath,” you heard her take one at the same time, and you followed suit. “He didn’t hurt you, right? Force you to sleep with him?” 
“God, no,” you plopped down on the uncomfortable mattress and rubbed your temple. “I practically threw myself at him. It was…” your mouth couldn’t say what you felt. It had been amazing, ‘best night of your life’ material. But you couldn’t say that now. Not after what you had read. 
“Maybe the articles are wrong? Maybe there’s more to it than what you’re reading. Oh! Maybe he’s in the witness protection program?” She tried to rationalize. But you had already done that before you called her. 
“He wouldn’t have used his old name, Jen,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if she heard them. 
“Shit, you’re right,” she took a sip of her coffee. “Listen. Just go to the airport, block his number and fly home. We will work through this together. Don’t call anyone yet. This sounds like something you don’t want to get mixed up in, babe.” 
You nodded at her words and felt the first wrench of emotion in the back of your throat. “I’m worried I already have.” 
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