#dean reader insert

“Open,” said Dean as he walked over to where you sat in the library, looking at your computer.

‘Open what-” you said when you suddenly felt something being jammed in your mouth. You tried to spit it out but a strong hand fell under your chin, keeping it closed. When you opened your eyes you realized it was a thermometer.

“You’re quiet and wrapped in a blanket and not eating enough. I know when you’re sick and you’re not telling me, Y/N,” he said sternly. You went to open your mouth to respond but Dean pressed harder under your chin, preventing you from speaking.

You glared at him and he gave you one back, his more authoritative than anything else.

“Go ahead and get pissed. I’m taking your temperature whether you like it or not,” he said, looking at his watch. You grumbled.

“I hate you,” you tried to say but it only came out as an odd mumbling sound.

“Y/N, I swear you are the grumpiest sick person on the planet,” said Dean.

“Are you guys doing weird stuff in here, like stuff you shouldn’t do when I’m home stuff?” asked Sam as he popped his head into the room cautiously. You eyed him for help but he only laughed. “Oh, she’s sick,” he said, walking over to you. You shook your head as best you could in that position but Same simply rolled his eyes.

“Of course, you’re perfectly healthy. That’s why you’re acting like this. You turn into a toddler every time you get a cold I swear,” said Dean. You glared at Sam now who took advantage of your unfortunate situation to pat you on top of the head. You growled, wondering what the hell was taking so long with the damn thermometer.

“Let him take care of you for once, would ya? Before he has to stand guard over you in your room. Again,” said Sam, turning to walk away. You knew he was right but you hated being sick and you really hated Dean feeling like he had to drop everything and take care of you.

You looked up at Dean when you were alone, his eyes gentle as the thermometer went off.

“How sick are you?” he asked, pulling his hands away, glancing down at it. His eyes widened before he looked at you where you were curling your blanket around yourself. His hand snatched the thing off of you and you whined.

“Dean, I’m cold,” you said as his hand felt your forehead and he looked at the thermometer again. You knew you were sick but it wasn’t that bad.

“Hospital, right now. You are way too hot” he said, pulling you up by the arm. You didn’t bother to fight him. It was hard to ignore his concern when you felt like your insides were freezing and on fire at the same time. “Sammy! Y/N is going to the hospital. You’re driving.”

“I’m fine, Dean-”

“Y/N,” he growled. “For once would you-”

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you said, trying to get him to relax. You sighed. “I’m in trouble once I get better, aren’t I,” you said, wrapping an arm around him.

“I just want you to get better...and yes, you are in a world of trouble for not saying anything. But first let me get you some help, okay?” he said, kissing the top of your head. “You’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay,” you said, walking down the hall, “Whatever you say, Dean.”

Whoever said drowning is a peaceful death, clearly never died one.

It's terrifying. Cold. Painful. And worst of all, it's slow. Or maybe it just feels like hours and it's only been seconds since you've had your last breath of air.

Now you're just choking on salt water.

Foaming at your mouth, lungs searing as the sea breaths into you. Helplessly, you watch the world close its heavy curtain, plunging you into pitch black darkness. An invisible dead weight latches onto your foot when the depths of the ocean begins to pull you down. Swallowing you whole.

Panic takes over your mind. Your limbs flail aimlessly, fighting for air - the surface.

Not because you want to live. But because your body doesn’t understand the decision you made days ago.

Atone for his sins. Repent, repent, repent-

For two months that voice has lived inside your head. Constantly. Repeating like a broken record, slowly chipping away at your sanity and your will to live. Whispering how your drowned family followed your father's fate, had atoned for the sins of a man you barely even knew, and how you're a coward for pacing the cliffs but never jumping.

Eventually, the bubbles begin to fade. It’s eerily calm. Head too. Silence. Finally.

With every passing second, every searing swallow of more water flooding your stomach and your lungs screaming for relief, you find yourself finally going limp.

And that’s just the way you deserved to go. Right?

Come to me… she coos now. Soothing. Her voice like an uncanny impression of your mother's. It's close. But just an octave off.

Come to me… you did well. Leading your family to us…

...Come...

“C’mon…”

“C’mon!”

The world breaks up above you.

Silent, but all the more violent.

At first just flashes of dark blue colours swirling and crashing and devouring each other flood your senses, then voices, muffled and distant fade in and out - next moment, loud thundering noise hammers against your ears like someone had just unmuted the entire world for you at once.

"C'mon, sweetheart-" the voices get louder, overlapping from all directions.

You gasp. And -

Air.

Your lungs expand and all of a sudden every nerve in your body's back online. Burning and roaring through your system like lightning.

How's this possible? How's there air down here? Am I dead yet?

You convulse, hacking seawater. Tasting salt and sand in the back of your throat. While you feel rough hands turn you sideways and slap your back, drawing even more liquids from your mouth.

Snippets of dialogue seep through your panicked sputtering and wheezing.

One from behind. Deep and hoarse, panting heavily like he'd just run a marathon.

"- c'mon - breathe, sweetie - that's it -"

One from the front, softer, steadier, followed by a soothing touch up and down your arm.

"- we got you, it's okay, you're gonna be okay -"

But you can only think of one thing.

"Why'd you save me?" You rasp. Broken. Parts of it left in the depths of what was meant to be your grave.

"What?" both say at once.

Fear slams back into you with the force of the waves you hear crashing against the shore in the distance. She's angry.

The thing that wore your mothers voice calls your name. Sweet. Sour. Livid.

Eyes begin to sting, tremors make their way to your lips and your hands when you hear it scream inside your head like a banshee again.

Repent.

"I - I need to go back- she's angry -" You begin in a panic and when you try to scramble to your feet you feel arms pin you back down into the wet sand the same moment.

"Whoa- whoa- hold on - ya ain't goin' back."

"Hey- talk to us, what's going on? Who's angry?"

You try to find your voice, force it out – "She – who dragged them under – she wants me too –" but it's cut short.

Don't listen to them! Your father has skinned and burned my children alive!

You start at the sound of the sharp command, the same voice which had led you all the way to the cliffs.

They exchange a look, the mop haired muttering to the other.

"The sirens dad was after? You think he missed one?"

"Awesome. So we got a sea monster that's gone Carol Sanders*."

"What? Please - I -" your voice cracks up, confused, now wet and drowning in your own tears.

"Hey, hey... breathe…" the short-haired guy leans down from behind you, pinning you to his chest, arms tight around your waist. Grounding you. His gruff voice softens to a murmur. "You're save now. I got you."

"They're... they're all dead..." you sob into your sleeve, voice and body shaking. Violently, and broken. "I've got no one left."

Sam's eyes flicker up to Dean's. The silence hangs heavy above your head.

The waves churn behind you. Dean sucks in a breath, then starts.

"Not all of them," he murmurs firmly, tightens his arms around you while his lips brush your crown, gently, brotherly - he swallows - then continues against your hair, "You've -… still got us."

You shake your head. He doesn't get it. Your entire family is gone.

A hand settles on your shoulder. "Can you tell us your father's name?" Sam asks gently and it has your eyes snap up to meet his.

Your focus flickers between them, only now noticing how they look like they already know the answer to their question and just want you to connect the dots yourself.

Your breath stutters.

"John Winchester."

Their eyes meet again. Dean doesn't say anything but you feel his arms go rigid, jaw locked. Sam swallows hard.

"How much do you know about his life?"

"He was a bad person. He – he burned them," you rasp out, voice tight. Dean behind you lets out a scoff at 'bad person'.

"He was a hunter, sweetheart. That's the -… That's our family business."

*Dean’s pop-culture guide: Carol Sanders is the main character of A Mother's Revenge (aka Desperate Justice) 1993. It was based on the novel of the same name by Richard Speight from Nashville, Tennessee (father of Richard Speight, Jr. - aka. Gabriel 😉).

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTES I've still got two fluff-themed snapshots planned in my drafts but I don't think I'll be able to finish them before the deadline... T-24 hours :')

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Dean slams the door behind you as you both walk into the motel room, you a few steps ahead of him as you drop your battle duffle onto the floor with a thud. 

The room is completely silent and you wince as you try to roll your jacket over your bruised shoulder. You were lucky it wasn’t dislocated, and you were even luckier you weren’t dead, but that didn’t stop Dean from giving you the silent treatment as he moved around you to unpack his weapons’ duffle, no doubt looking for a gun he could take apart and fiddle with while he continued to ignore you.

The ride back from the hunt was excruciating, and not just from the cuts and bruises you earned during this hunt. It was Dean’s seething silence that hurt the most.

It was a werewolf hunt that was suppose to be easy, and for all purposes except the slight hiccup at the end, it was. You didn’t normally accompany the brothers to the fights, your skills being much more useful on a laptop or when it came to interrogating the locals, but Sam was home with the flu, and even with your limited hunting skills, you figured taking you as backup was still safer than Dean going into battle alone. 

For the most part, you stayed out of Dean’s way while he took on the pack of three alone, managing to fire off a few rounds of silver bullets to distract them if they were overwhelming Dean. But the problem arose when a fourth wolf that you hadn’t accounted for emerged from the shadows and lunged for Dean. You didn’t have time to think, let alone alert Dean to the surprise danger, so you did the only thing you could -- you tackled Dean out of the way, getting yourself thrown across the room and into a window in the process.

Your deflection gave Dean enough time to realize what happen and he was able to take out the final monster before running over to you as you struggled to push yourself up. You weren’t use to getting hit, let alone thrown through a window, and it had definitely knocked the wind out of you while also cutting you up in the process. Thankfully, none of the injuries required stitches or other medical attention, and with Dean’s help, you picked yourself up and you left the bloodied scene behind you.

You turn to face Dean who is sitting at the table, wiping down his machete, eyes completely focused on the blade.

“We gonna talk about this?” You cross your arms, wincing at the tight pull behind your shoulder blade.

Your boyfriend’s eyes glance up at you for just a moment before flicking back to the weapon in his hand and you take a deep breath.

“This is ridiculous.” You huff. “You’re pissed because I saved you? Really?” You ask incredulously. “Would you rather I let the werewolf blindside you?” Your eyebrows raise as you stare down Dean.

A beat of silence passes through the room before Dean finally sets the machete onto the table and adjusts in his seat, giving you his full attention. You see the scratches around his eye and dried blood on his forehead. There’s a cut across his cheek that looks fairly deep and could probably use some butterfly stitches and a deep clean once you two had a chance to talk. 

“That’s exactly what you should have done.” His voice is low, his gaze finally meeting yours.

You laugh, thinking you’ve heard him wrong. But of course you didn’t hear him wrong. This was Dean Winchester, the most self-deprecating man on Earth. Chuck forbid someone looked out for him for once. 

“I’m sorry, but you want me to just sit on the sidelines and watch you die?” Your voice suddenly raises, a mix of panic and anger rising like bile in your throat.

“I’d rather that then you get hurt because of me!” Dean suddenly stands, the chair he was sitting in teetering from the sudden movement. “I’d rather you didn’t die because of me,  Y/N!” He takes a few steps towards you and you keep your shoulders square. He was loud, but you were stubborn, and you weren’t about to back down just because Dean was louder and bigger than you. 

“Because I have no idea what the hell I’d do if I had to watch you die.” His voice lowers as he gets closer to you, and your chin begins to quiver at his confession. 

It’s the same thing you fear every time he leaves the bunker for a hunt, or returns to a motel room torn up from the monster of the week. If Dean ever died, you’d have no idea what you’d do without him. And you couldn’t even bare the thought of having to watch him die. That would be a fate worse than death itself. 

“And how come you get to die for me and I can’t die for you?” You whisper as he stops right in front of you. “Because let’s be real here Dean, if one of us had to survive, it has to be you.” A flash of pain shimmers in his green eyes as your words sink in. “You’re the one who saves people, you’re the one who stops apocalypses, I’m just along for the ride.” You swallow the lump in your throat.

It was a truth you had realized long ago, before you had even started dating Dean, and it was something you thought about every time you hopped in the Impala with the boys to take on the next case; that if it ever had to come down to you or Dean, Dean would have to be the one, every time. Same with Sam. The boys protected our world, and you’d be damned if you stood around and let them die just because you were scared. In the grand scheme of things, you were just a girlfriend, a gloried sidekick--not that the Winchesters would ever call you that--but you knew that when it came to the bigger picture, you were just a speck and the Winchesters were the sun and the stars.

“Don’t say that.” He whispered, his green eyes glossy. You know Dean’s self-loathing nature would never let him fully understand just how important he was, or how important his survival was. It broke your heart, but he needed to understand his importance, no matter the cost. 

“Dean,” you take a deep breath, your voice soft but strong as you smile sadly up at him. “It’s true, whether you see it that way or not. It has to be you. Every time.” You swallow and take his hand in yours.

“Well that’s too damn bad because I won’t let you,” his voice cracks slightly as he takes in your words, his hands squeezing yours.

You laugh, humorless.

“Dean, I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’m actively trying not to die.” This earns you a green-eyed glance. “But if I do, you are not allowed to do anything to bring me back.” You shake your head, your voice lighter but the truth strong. “If you give your life to bring me back I will literally find the nearest bridge and will jump off of it just to spite you in the afterlife. So don’t even think about it.” That earns a silent chuckle from Dean as he looks away from you, shaking his head. Yes, your voice was light, but it was the truth. He was the world’s guardian, and you couldn’t let him do anything stupid just because he would be grieving.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to you before pulling you into his chest, his chin resting on your head as you relax into him.

“Besides, I’m safe now, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be back behind my laptop screen soon enough.” His chest vibrates as he laughs and you smile against him.

A moment passes before he pushes you away slightly, just enough so he can look down at you with a soft smile on his face. You reach up on your toes and bring your lips to his, gentle at first until his hands reach up to cup your chin, deepening the kiss.

If there’s one thing you knew about Dean Winchester, he wasn’t a man of many words. But actions, that was his language, and you knew he needed to show you his relief and love now that you were both safe and your conversation behind you.

Dean’s tongue brushes against yours, your body pressing into his as you start to walk you backwards. With a practiced movement, you jump up and wrap your legs around Dean’s waist as his hands cup your ass. You lean your chest against him as your arms wrap around his neck, your kisses getting faster, needier.

Without breaking the kiss, Dean lowers you onto the bed and you release your legs from his waist, but keep your arms around his neck as you pull him down with you. Dean lowers his body over you, not putting his weight on you just yet as you break the kiss and start trailing your lips up and down his neck, stopping to suck on the skin under his ear as you feel his hips roll above you. You can’t help but smirk that even after all this time, you still have this effect on him with just a few lingering kisses.

He pulls away to look down at you, relief and lust in his eyes as he looks you over.

You raise your hands over your head, swallowing down the pain in your back, knowing if Dean sees you wince, he would stop the both of you, and you didn’t want that. You needed this as much as he did.

Dean immediately recognizes your action as your silent signal to start undressing you, and he carefully reaches down, his fingers brushing under your top and tickling your torso as he lifts your shirt up and pulls it over your head. His eyes shimmer as he stares at the sight your breasts, and you arch your back as he lowers himself over you, his hands reaching behind you before he starts fiddling with your bra hook as your lips find his neck again now that he’s so close.

The hook finally pops and you shimmy the straps down your shoulders as Dean pulls the fabric away, your breath hitching as the cool air hits your bare breasts. Dean smirks, a glint in his eye as he stares you down while his mouth wraps up around your right breast, your body buckling as his hand travels up your thigh before cupping your middle. You let out a groan, your body arching as his teeth graze your nipple, causing you to gasp suddenly as his hand tightens on your crouch in response. Your core clenches between the different pressures and you whine, “Dean” as you wiggle your hips, needing him to get your pants off so he can get closer.

His lips leave your breast and he chuckles as his hands come to your waist before he pops the button of your jeans. Without missing a beat, you lift your hips as he starts to tug the fabric down your legs until you’re left in nothing but your underwear. At the edge of the bed, Dean tears off his shirt and undoes the buckle to his pants, before stepping out of them, his erection obvious against his boxers. You smile at the sight, and your legs clench together with the anticipation of what’s to come.

“You just gonna stand there or what?” You tease as his eyes continue to roam over you. But with your words, he strides over to the bed and is suddenly hovering over you. He smirks down at you as his hands find the waist of your panties, and you moan as two of his fingers dip inside you.

Breathless sighs escape your lips as he continues to move within you, the pressure building. His mouth is suddenly on your left breast, his teeth biting down and rolling across your nipple as his fingers dance in a maddeningly uneven beat. Your body bucks as his speed picks up until suddenly your whole body is shuddering against Dean’s as your core tightens and implodes inside you. 

You’re panting as your body begins to relax back into the bed, and when you open your eyes, Dean is smiling down at you, eyes shining as he admires his work. 

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Dean smirks and leans down to capture your lips. His fingers leave your panties, and this time, he pulls them down completely and tosses them across the room. 

In a quick motion, he discards his boxers, his erection popping free and standing proudly in front of you. 

“Ready, sweetheart?”

“Always, Dean.”

Dean lowers himself back to you slowly, lining himself up before pushing into you. You sigh in relief as he fills you, the aching pressure in your core replaced fully by him. 

He begins to move in you slowly and purposefully. Back and forth, back and forth, hitting deep inside you as a slow burn resonates from within as you moan from the friction. You hear Dean’s voice catch in his throat, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him to fully notice.

His hand finds yours and you lock your fingers around his as he hits into you deliberately and deep, a welcomed change to your usually fast and dirty. But this isn’t about pleasure, not entirely. This is about love, about relief, about safety. 

The knot inside you continues to grow as he hits as far back as he can go, your other hand digging into his back, needing a way to release some of the ache that builds inside of you. 

You moan aloud, the burn becoming too much as your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him in place as you explode around him. Your walls are pulsating,  your eyes rolling back, and he starts up his motion again, a feral sound leaving your lips as he continues to pump inside of you until you hear the sound of his pleasure as his body shudders and he releases inside of you.

Your heart is pounding against your chest, your hair stuck to your slick forehead as Dean’s weight collapses on top of you, his own body rising and falling as he attempts to catch his breath. You love the feeling of him on you after he cums. The weight of his world off of his shoulders, even just for a few minutes as he relaxes into you.

You place a hand on his cheek, under his cut that will need attention once you’re both ready to get up. 

“I love you,” you whisper, the silence of the room now a welcomed friend among both of your heavy breathes. 

Dean leans into your touch and places a kiss on your palm, everything that needed to be said laid out on the bed. 

Act VII posting schedule. Please note the tags list is currently closed.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

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You could hear him come closer to the bed but before you could even stop him, he had completely yanked off the covers... leaving his eyes to bare into your naked skin as you were only wearing a bra and panties. At this point, your eyes had finally acclimated to the bright light so you were able to open your eyes and see Dean only in boxers, phone in hand, with a blush on his face.

“As much as I would love to appreciate this view, you need to get dressed... now,” his tone made it clear that the situation was serious.

You ignored your cheeks burning from embarrassment and walked over to your closet and quickly tossed on a pair of ripped blue jeans and a white top, “What the hell is going on?”

Dean was still in his boxers as he waited for you to get dressed and as you turned around, you noticed his erection poking against the fabric. He followed your line of sight back to his crotch and immediately covered it. That isn’t Dean... hell he would jut his hips out even more usually. 

“Ignoring the fact of this,” he pointed down at his boner with his other hand, “and also the fact that Christian even managed to get my damn number, he just told me that Leila is on her way.”

Your stomach dropped, “What?” you asked breathlessly. “What do you mean she’s coming?”

At that exact moment, your phone had begun ringing once more, however this time, it was from an unknown caller. You walked over and picked up your phone from your bedside and hesitantly put the phone up to your ear after answering the call.

“Y/N, I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Leila,” you seethed, “how the hell did you even get my number?”

You could hear her chuckling on the other side of the line, “You underestimate me, you also underestimate how I could find where you live so easily.”

“What the hell do you want you psychotic bitch?” you asked.

“Mmmm... nothing, just for you and those wretched Winchester boys to die, that’s all.”

You looked at Dean with a worried expression, clicking the speaker button so he could hear as well.

“How do you know about us?” you questioned into the phone.

“Well that’s just simple, for the many years I have been roaming this Earth, I’ve heard the name Winchester spoken in almost every dark corner from many different creatures. Then, I come to find out that you’re trying to fuck my man?” she snickered in a way that made your skin crawl. “And the cherry on top! You even live with the Winchester boys! Once I kill you, I’ll kill them too and maybe even get a promotion in Hell!”

“You’re a fucking demon... and Christian never knew?” you were shocked to say the least.

“Oh... he knows, but that’s a story for later dontcha think?” she left no room for you to even respond. “Now, lower the wards around the area to let me in. And before you get any funny ideas, realize that I’m out here so I can go pay Christian a little visit. Lower the wards or he dies.”

You and Dean made eye contact, a single look exchanged between the two of you that held enough words for an entire conversation. Wake up Sam, get the guns, and lower the wards. In order for this plan to work though, you needed time, so you tried to buy some.

“Give us 30 minutes to discuss, then we’ll call you back.”

“You have no more than 15 before I start heading over to Christian’s place and killing him along with everyone else,” she hung up the phone.

You smirked, you had intentionally doubled the amount of time that you needed in case she had wanted to pull something just like that. You nodded to Dean and set off to Sam’s room, Dean moving to the armory to get equipped. Explaining everything to Sam once he was fully conscious, which didn’t take long at all, both of you met back up with Dean. 

“Alright, so I got the demon blade, and you guys,” he stuck both his arms out, holding two angel blades, “angel blades.”

You grabbed your blade and tucked it into your pants, grabbing a pistol from the counter that was loaded with demon trap bullets, “Do we have a plan? We got about 5 more minutes before I have to call her back.”

“Simple, lower the wards, let her in, blast her to kingdom come, and send her ass crawling back to Hell,” Dean said, cocking his gun before walking out of the room.

“So... there’s no plan and we’re just gonna hope for the best?” Sam turned to you.

You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, following after Dean. Coming into the war room, Dean was posted at the war table aiming upwards towards the door. You got into position next to him and aimed your pistol towards the door as well. Sam went to go disable the wards so it was just you and Dean up there. You wanted to fill the void of silence but had no idea how to; talk about what he had told you before, why he’s risking his life for Christian. A few things you wanted to talk about and yet, you had no idea how to bring any of it up. It was like you were at some social function and you were too scared to offend by bringing up a random topic, you felt like a schoolgirl. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, you noticed the sigils on the walls begin to glow a bright red before slowly fading away. Once again, you and Dean had made eye contact and you both knew: Sam had disabled the wards.

The room was nothing but silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of you and Dean breathing filling the room. You had tunnel vision, aiming down the barrel of your gun pointed at the door. You wanted to kill this demon, once and for all.

“Where the hell is this demon bit-”

The door was suddenly blown off of its hinges, the door flying down into the war room and landing on top of the table, obscuring you and Dean’s aim for a few seconds. By the time the two of you could recover, Leila was already right in front of you, throwing you across the room. Your back hit the wall with a sounding thump and while you would usually have focused on how damn much it hurt, the only thing you were focused on was making sure that she didn’t hurt anyone. Dean raised his gun at her to fire but suddenly he was also flung across the room, landing into the wall right next to you and sliding down. 

“Where’s little Sammy? Is it ok if I call him Sammy? I’ve been wanting to meet him for soooo long!” Leila clasped her hands together excitedly. 

“He’s not here, bitch,” you spat the blood out of your mouth as you got up, “you’re gonna have to deal with us,” you rose to your feet, reaching behind your back to grab the angel blade.

Leila simply chuckled, “Hmmm, that’s too bad. Guess I’ll just kill the two of you then go find him, wherever he is.”

This demon was psychotic, it seemed as if the only thing she wants to do is murder people. And while that isn’t necessarily a rarity among demons, most of them usually don’t let their murderous rage define their entire personalities. She must have been some kind of murderer before she went to Hell.

“How about you come and try me, bitch?” you sneered, holding the angel blade in your hand and establishing a fighting position.

Her face conformed in anger before she rushed at you, an angel blade in her own hand. The two of you clashed blades like a duel from the old times, a few sparks flying here and there from the friction between the two pieces of metal. Unfortunately for you, you predicted her movements wrong and she managed to slice at your arm, a somewhat nasty gash appearing on your outer shoulder. 

“Not bad, but it’s time to die,” she smirked.

Sam finally decided it was time to jump in for Leila was so focused on you, that she didn’t notice him come up behind her and put his own angel blade to her throat. 

“Sam, wait!” you shouted out as he had begun to slice at her neck. 

He paused, slightly releasing the amount of pressure he was holding against her neck.

“We need answers,” you said as you ripped a piece of fabric from your shirt to wrap around your arm, tying off the knot with your teeth.

Dean went to get demon handcuffs while you and Sam moved her into a chair in the middle of the room, keeping the angel blade at her neck while you had drawn a circle around the chair. Eventually, Dean had returned and clicked the handcuffs onto her with a bit of resistance, and moved back and out of the circle where you and Sam were.

“Now, firstly, how the hell did you know where we were?” you questioned. 

“You know, I don’t technically have to say sh-”

She was interrupted by her own grunt in pain as Sam splashed holy water over her, “Answer the question.”

She inhaled sharply and put on a nice smile, “Fine, since I’m such a nice person... Christian told me.”

Sam and Dean immediately looked at you, “You really think that I would tell him where we live? You think I’m that fucking stupid?”

Dean spoke up first, “No, yeah she’s right. Hell, the dude found my phone number somehow, he probably has some tech guru to figure this shit out.” Leila made a clicking sound with her tongue, “Bingo! Of course, all I had to do was threaten the life of that certain ‘tech guru’s’ wife and boom, all of your information was right in my hands.”

You weren’t convinced, shaking your head, “And you’re just willing to tell us all of that? That easily?”

Leila looked at you and made a mockingly sad face, “Aww, you think I give a fuck how you know I found out where you lived? Shit, I just came here to kill you guys, didn’t work out, my best bet is to spill and somehow manage to get out of here.” The fact that she had so easily switched up her entire demeanor confirmed your suspicions of her being some kind of psychopath before she had become a demon, no one sane acts like that.

“Fine,” you whisked your hair to the side, “then what did you mean when you said that Christian already knew?”

She smiled cunningly, “I knew you were going to ask that. I said I would tell you later... but I meant after you were dead and went to Hell but oh well! Might as well tell you now, since I know it’ll do nothing but drive you even further away from him,” she finished that with an evil smirk.

Dean took the bottle of holy water from Sam and dumped a generous amount over her head, resulting in her screaming out in pain, “Just tell us what we want to know, bitch.”

She snapped her head back up to look at Dean, and if looks could kill, Dean would have been dead several times over. However, Leila didn’t let herself get too distracted by it, a new purpose suddenly filling her.

“Christian didn’t know I was a demon at first, of course,” she made a movement with her lips to accentuate the last part of that sentence. “But, when another demon came knocking on the door while we were having sex well... you can image how that went.”

Dean and Sam made cringed faces while you were stoic.

“After killing him, Christian obviously saw the entire thing and asked me what I was. I thought, why not? I like him so he might as well know everything about me right?” she looked directly at you, as if she knew exactly what she was saying.

And indeed, she did. The fact that you still hadn’t told Christian what you were was slowly eating at you, though, it seems like he was withholding quite a lot from you as well. Though, you refused to give her the reaction that she wanted from you, so you kept yourself calm. When you didn’t give Leila the reaction she wanted, anger flashed across her features before she had quickly covered it up.

“Anyways, when Christian found out that I was a demon I expected him to be disgusted,” she made a dramatic pause, testing your patience. “But, instead, he was intrigued. He couldn’t help himself but want to know everything about me, inside and out,” she winked at you when she said the ending of her story.

Your eye twitched in anger as you desperately tried not to smack the shit out of her for trying to continuously piss you off but you weren’t going to give her the satisfaction, “So Christian and you hooked up after he knew you were a demon?”

While at this point, she was becoming visibly annoyed that she wasn’t getting to you, she continued to try to get a rise out of you, “That’s right, the idea that he was hooking up with a demon was such a thrill for Christian. We were fucking like stallions all the time!” she began to cackle with laughter. “You know,” she leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone, “I won’t tell if you wont, but I think Christian thought you were a demon too. Or else, he wouldn’t have had sex with you.”

You had finally had enough, you stormed up to her and stabbed your angel blade right into her thigh, relishing in the sounds of her crying out in pain. You turned back around to Sam and Dean, telling them that you were finished and they could ask more questions or finish her off if they wanted to before storming out of the room. 

You went back to your room and headed to the bathroom to wash off the blood from your blade, taking off your shirt as well to look at your wound. Although your upper shirt was basically drenched in blood, you felt fine, and you were thankful none of the skin sagged from your injury. Washing up your blade and throwing your shirt that was ripped and soaked in blood into the bin, you grabbed the first aid kit in the drawer and made your way over to your desk. Turning on the reading light to have a more clear look at your wound, you opened up the kit and got out the needle and thread. Before you could do anything though, you heard a knock on your door before it opened. You couldn’t tell who it was and they were closing the door again before you caught the handle and opened it wider. Dean suddenly peaked his head out from the corner and you were surprised to see him so soon.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, letting go of the door and moving your focus back to the wound on your arm.

Dean sighed, “Here, let me.”

You let him take the needle from your hand as he kneeled next to you.

“Told Sam to take care of the demon bitch, had to come and check on you to make sure you’re alright. Good thing I came or else you would have given yourself an infection.”

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, punching him in the arm with your free hand.

He smiled and grabbed your arm softly, the warmth of his skin emanating onto your own. It sent shivers up your spine and you prayed that he didn’t see the reaction you had. He untied the knot you made on your arm and reached over for the bottle of alcohol and gave you a look before you nodded and he poured it on the wound. You hissed sharply but didn’t move, Dean’s expression lighting up with pride as you took the pain like a champ. He began to stitch your gash silently but efficiently. Luckily for you, he kept his eyes on it so you had the opportunity to look at his face. The light from the desk was shining in the perfect angle towards his face, accentuating every curve and feature. His green eyes were shining brightly, his five o’clock shadow showing itself to your hungry eyes. The tightening of his jaw line as he focused on a certain stitch, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the softness he held in his gaze. It was like you were gazing upon a god, a perfect image, sculpted with divine intention. 

“All done,” Dean chirped, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You collected yourself immediately and thanked him, grabbing the supplies and placing it back into the med kit, “Anything on the menu for breakfast? This shit made me hungry.”

Dean chuckled, “I’ll make us something, get dressed,” he began walking out of the room before he suddenly turned around and admired your bare top. “Actually, scratch that, don’t get dressed.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, smiling even after he had closed the door and walked away.

The smile was still on your face for a few seconds longer, letting out a sigh as you recalled everything that had happened this morning. Oh shit, I should probably call Christian. I have a few... things to say to him. You walked over to your bedside and grabbed your phone from your nightstand, simply clicking on the missed call from Christian in order to call him back. The phone only rang about a single time before he had picked up.

“Y/N? What happened? Are you ok?” his worried voice rang out from your phone.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m fine, we took care of Leila... the demon that you so kindly decided not to mention to me.”

His side of the line went quiet for a while and you internally smiled at shutting him up, before it was cancelled by him responding, “Y/N, I can explain.”

You audibly chuckled, “Really? Out of all of the things you could have said, you went with the classic ‘I can explain’?”

You could hear him sigh, “Y/N, please... just let me explain it. I’ll tell you anything and everything you want to know. Just... please don’t shut me out without at least letting me explain.”

“You know, I’m kind of tired of having to hear you ‘explain’ everything to me. You can’t just be fucking straight up with me ever can you?” your voice was slightly raised as you reprimanded him.

“Like you were straight with me telling me you’re a hunter?” 

You were taken aback, unable to even respond.

“Yeah, I know. Who do you think I am, Y/N? I managed to find out where you actually lived, and the phone number of a guy I saw once. You think I didn’t see the tattoo when we had sex?”

You put your hand up to your forehead as you tightly squeezed your eyes shut, “Of course you know what a hunter is if you know what a demon is.”

“It seems like there are things that we both kept from each other. So I suggest that you meet me today, and we can finally be open with each other for once.”

You exhaled through your nose in defeat, “Fine, 3pm at the airfield like you said, I’ll see you then.”

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ @flamencodiva​ @impalawrites​ @talesmaniac89​ @malfoysqueen14​ @wonder-cole​ @downanddirtydean​ @flashxspn​ @zooaliaa​ @huffle-pissed​

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​ @anathewierdo​ @janicho88​ @katehuntington​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @emoryhemsworth​ @winchest09​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @jensengirl83​ @that-one-gay-girl​ 

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @deandreamernp​

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun​

Dean didn’t like him, his blonde, shiny slicked-back hair, or his fancy foreign car that was always too loud coming into the driveway. There was just something about him that rubbed him the wrong way. And when Y/N introduced him to Dean, he didn’t like the way his arm tightened around her shoulders in a possessive way. Or the glare in his eyes as he eyed Dean up and down. It made Dean narrow his eyes and size him up himself. He knew then this Chad was going to be a problem.

Like that very day. While he was hanging out in his backyard with his friends, enjoying some grilled meat and homemade potato salad that late summer day, Y/N was locked inside her home with Chad, and he swore he could hear them yelling.

“So, have you spilled your true feelings to her yet?” Sam asked as he brought his brother another beer. Dean glared at Sam.

“Have you asked your assistant Eileen out yet?” Dean asked back. Sam bitch-faced Dean and let out a huff as he dropped into a chair next to him.

“Touche,” Sam said. “However, in my defense, I may have a no fraternization rule at the office.” Dean turned and gave Sam a look that showed how much he didn’t believe that.

“Dude, it’s your law firm,” he said. Sam frowned.

“Okay, fine. I haven’t asked yet because I’m a chicken shit. What’s your excuse?” Sam asked before taking a pull off his beer. Dean scowled and looked back over at his neighbor’s house.

“Chad,” he growled. Sam nodded, looking over at the house as well.

“What does she see in him?” he asked. Dean shrugs the question off.

“Hell, if I know, but I have my eye on him. With how many times we have women coming into the yard with requests to see if there are trackers and shit on their cars, put there by their crazy ex-boyfriends, I’m not ignoring this. It matches the training we ended up taking entirely too closely,” Dean explained, glancing at his brother with a dark look. Sam understood the unspoken discussion all too easily and nodded.

“Great,” Sam responded despondently.

Hours later, while Dean was cleaning up his yard, a loud door slam caught his attention. He walked around to his side yard only to see Chad storming out of Y/N’s house like a bull that had seen red. Before he was even at his car, the porch light had turned off. Chad whirled around and shouted at the house about being disrespected, stormed back to the front door, and started banging on it. Dean straightened and was about to move forward and give Chad a piece of his mind only to get distracted by movement in the back of Y/N’s yard. Turning his head to look, he saw Y/N sneaking out the back of her house. She closed her back door quietly and turned to leave, catching Dean’s eye.

Dean waved her over, and Y/N darted across the backyard. Dean looked over his shoulder to make sure Chad didn’t see before rushing Y/N into his house. Once she was inside, he moved her to a room across the house, away from where the threat was. Once safe, Dean turned to her.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked her. Y/N shook her head.

“I don’t know what his problem is, but he has gotten way out of hand and super controlling. I mean, way out of hand. He started forcing these rules on me and tried to tell me what I can and cannot do and… Just way out of line. I told him it’s over. I’m not dealing with this crap and he flew off the handle,” Y/N said while pacing the small bedroom. Dean’s eyes narrowed into slits

“Did he hurt you?” Dean questioned; his voice hard. Y/N looked at him with an eye roll.

“No. Chad wouldn’t hurt me, Dean,” Y/N scoffed. Dean shook his head.

“Don’t discount me, Y/N. Guys like that could very easily get violent when they realize they can’t control you anymore,” Dean explained. Y/N softened at that, realizing that he was worried. She shook her head.

“No, he hasn’t ever raised a hand to me. I promise,” Y/N said. “But I did tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore. We’ve been fighting for hours. I finally got him to leave, and he just flipped out again. I was afraid he was going to break into the house, and I was going to go hide when I saw you.”

“I don’t like this. He’s got a temper, and who knows what he’s capable of,” Dean muttered, shaking his head. Y/N sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

“As soon as he’s gone, I’ll be out of your hair. I need to get to the hospital in a few hours anyway. If he stays there for long, I’ll have to sneak out to the ER and use a set of scrubs I have at the hospital,” Y/N said grumpily. Dean shook his head with a smirk and opened the top drawer to the dresser in the guest room they were standing in. Inside were a few different pairs of her scrubs, her small toiletry bag, and two pairs of her crocs. Y/N saw it and blushed.

“I thought I took all of my stuff back to my place after that New Year’s Eve party a few years ago?” she asked. Dean shook his head.

“Always have to be prepared for my favorite lightweight who can’t even make it to her house next door,” Dean joked. Y/N walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise; a gasp caught in his throat. He held his breath as she stayed close looking up at him, holding on to the scent of her perfume. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“You’re my hero, you know that?” Y/N whispered, resting a hand against Dean’s cheek. Dean was frozen, unable to say anything. It took all of his self-control to resist the urge to pull her against him and kiss the life out of her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t until she was free from the man trying to ruin her life. After another long moment, Y/N turned and went to the dresser, letting her hand run down his arm, grab him, and squeeze. Once Y/N had a set of scrubs to change into and went into the bathroom, Dean felt himself relax a little, exhaling slowly as he tried to get his heart to slow down a little.