Summary: After Dean takes on the mark, his relationship with Y/N starts to fall through the cracks. She’s had enough of him taking out his stress on her, and after years of silencing her pain she finally lets him know why it’s time to say goodbye.
A/N: Written for @winchest09‘s writing challenge, using the prompt “these wounds won’t seem to heal” (congrats again on 300!!<3) and I’m combining it with @castielslittlestbee‘s writing challenge (congrats on 50, dear!<3) with the prompt “everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I move the stars for no one.”
Warnings: pure angst, y’all and a few curse words
Disclaimer: I feel the need to tell you guys that I am not trying to downplay physical abuse whatsoever in that second paragraph. That is not me saying one is worse than the other; this is simply just how I personally have felt in similar situations, and expressing those feelings in my writing.
W/C: 820
Staring into the darkened eyes of the man it pains you to love, you hold your hand close to your chest. Excruciating memories pour into and through you as he shakes his head, turning to face away. He battles with himself, you know that he always has, and the mark only makes it worse. It pulls him under piece by piece, driving him mad all the while.
You have love and sympathy for him, but your wounds run much deeper. While he never laid a finger on you, at times you wish he had, as it might have made things easier. Bruises don’t keep you up at night, tossing and turning in bed. Cuts don’t give you night terrors, and a black eye will never wrench your heart like the words Dean Winchester has thrown at you these last few months.
“I have always been there for you, Dean,” you scream, choking on your tears. “I have been here through all of it,” you shout, flailing your arms and accidentally rattling the chains that hang above you. “Every night that you woke me up with your screaming, I was there. Every tear you have shed, every time you were ready to give it all up,” you sigh, shaking your head, “I was there.”
He stands across from you, somewhat hidden in the darkness of the abandoned building you suggested to meet in, his arms folded tightly against his chest. Of what you can see with the little lighting, he wears a face of indifference, one that breaks your heart every time you see it.
You know well enough by know that he’s too caught up in a mental war to hear what you’re throwing his way, but this isn’t for him - not anymore. Never wanting to hurt him worse than he was hurting himself is what held you back for so long. For months, years even, you bit your lips so hard they bled, all to keep the pain locked up until it became too strong to fight.
“Do you feel big? Like a man for yelling at your woman about shit she has no control over?” you shout in a threatening tone, head cocked to the side. “Does it make you feel powerful to hurt my feelings, hurt me, because you’re hurting or - or dealing with something that has nothing to do with me, and all I ever did was be in the wrong place at the wrong time?” you groan. “Is that all I ever was? Just someone to play as your emotional punching bag?”
Taking a deep breath, you let your arms relax at your side. “I looked up to you,” you say, voice softer as a lone tear slips by, “from the day we met. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you,” you shout, finger waving at him as you take a step closer. “I move the stars for no one, but somehow you got me to do just that... all for you.”
The tears flow from you effortlessly as his, now hazel, eyes link with yours. The bravery you felt moments ago has come and gone, and taking its place is the pain of your many wounds.
You bring your shoulders up in a slow shrug, dropping them carelessly with a heavy sigh, “are you gonna say anything to me or just stand there?”
“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he growls, stalking towards you. You watch as his face fully illuminates in the flickering lights you stand under, scrunching up with is words. “That I’m sorry? That I feel like shit? That I know I hurt you and apparently all I ever do is hurt you, but you should - should stay? Even though we both know it’d be the worst mistake of your life.”
“No, Dean,” you say quicker than you can get in a breath. “But an apology wouldn’t kill you, would it?” you snarl, tightening your face into a frown. “But then again, words mean nothing, right?” You pause, letting him soak in regret as his own words hit his ears.
“I wanted to be there for you,” you say, sucking in a quick, shaky breath. “But these wounds won’t seem to heal,” you say, mouth dry and voice raw. “Especially if all you do is tear them open.”
After an overwhelming and agonizing silence, Dean takes a final step forward and shrugs, “so I suppose this is goodbye, then?” he says, as if it weren’t the final one.
You nod, trying to keep your composure just long enough to make it out of here before you crack. “This is goodbye, Dean,” you say, lip quivering before you take those dreadful steps out of the warehouse and to your car.
Miraculously the tears don’t come until you’re alone, where you can finally start on healing all of the parts of you that you’d allowed him to break.
Forever Tags <3:
@fangirl490 @waywardblueshun
If you liked this, please consider reblogging it :)
A/N - Catching up on Spn and I felt like I needed to write this bc of some stuff I’m going through rn, love y’all <3
Downing another glass of the cold whiskey didn’t help, it just made you that little bit more tipsy. Your fingers played aimlessly with the phone as your other hand reached out for the bottle, ready to pour some more. Thoughts ran jumbled through your mind and before you knew it, Dean Winchester’s contact information was on the screen.
Apprehensively your finger hovered above the button. It was 4am and Dean should be asleep, it wouldn’t be fair to wake him over nothing, you tried to convince yourself; but the hungry craving for attention didn’t settle.
You bit your lip as the dial tone started up, already you felt guilty. After the first four rings you decided he wasn’t going to pick up and just as you were about to end the call, a groggy voice picked up, “Hello?”.
You couldn’t prompt yourself to speak, what would you even say to him?
“Hello?”, this time Dean said more forcefully. A soft, “Hey”, was all you could muster as you felt the embarrassment as your voice trembled. Slowly, but surely, a few tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. Involuntarily you sniffled. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”, Dean asked sounding much more alert. “I’m sorry”, you instantly burst out quietly, “I just wanted to talk to someone. I can go though so you can go back to sleep”. Dean took a moment to respond, “Don’t ever apologise for calling me or Sam, okay? We will always be here if you need us, even if it is at ungodly hours in the morning”.
You forced out a chuckle and apologised again, causing Dean to ask, “What’s wrong anyway?”. It was the question you were dreading, how could you explain your feelings when you didn’t even know what you felt in the first place?
“I...I-I’m just...tired I guess?”, you practically whispered out of fear that you’d breakdown. “Like tired-sleepy tired or tired?” Dean asked. “Tired”, you answered shamefully. On the other end of the phone, a frown formed on Dean’s face, “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about (Y/N) sometimes it just happens, hell it even happens to me and Sammy and it’s good that you’re talking about it”.
“...Thanks”, you answered bluntly, unaware of what else to say. You took a sip from your glass. “I’m really glad you called me actually, we miss you so why don’t we come visit you yeah?”. A soft smile danced across your lips, “I’d like that a lot actually”. “First thing tomorrow morning, I promise”.
“I look forward to it”, you nodded to yourself and then paused, unsure if you should speak your mind. Your better judgement was unable to beat your impulsive side, “Will you stay on the phone till I’m asleep please? I don’t want to be alone right now”. “And tell you a bedtime story is that really why you called?”, Dean joked, easing the tension. A giggle escaped your lips, “Yeah you got me, so tell me a story then”.
Lying down in your bed, you pulled the covers up to your chin and put the phone on speaker, “I’m ready”, you announced.
“So this one time me and Sam, I’m not sure why I thought it would be a good idea but.......”, Dean started, his voice already melodic enough to lull you to sleep.
You are Lucifer’s soulmate and you meet the boys and Cas and Crowley
Author’s Note:
School is not the fun version of hell.
~~~
Lucifer crossed his arms and sat on the table in the Bunker bored. He wanted to see you but he knew that if he did, you would be pulled into this mess by the Winchesters and the lost puppy of an angel. Or worst.
Crowley would find you.
He had just reclaimed the throne to hell but the lucky demon had slipped away from his grasp, but before he slipped away he had attacked the Winchester so the four of them were in a temporary partnership till they can find the demon.
He just wanted this to be over so he could go to your apartment and listen to you talk about meaningless stuff that he knew already but he loved hearing it again from you. The way you told stories and your smile when you found or learned something new. He missed you dearly but he needs to find and kill the demon so you could be saved.
“Brother?”
Lucifer looked at his younger brother, Castiel, who looked uncomfortable.
“There is a rumor in the demon network saying he is heading for Chicago.”
Lucifer stiffed.
“Why?”
“Because you have a soulmate apparently,” Dean said walking with Sam next to him. “Which I find very hard to believe.”
“Shut up, Winchesters, this is serious!” he snapped and looked back at Castiel.
“How? I warded here apartment and moved her far from where she grew up.”
“I don’t know,” Castiel said and Lucifer sighed and rubbed his head.
“So much for not getting her involved.”
“I think she will be fine, Lucifer.” Dean said, “I bet she some bad ass little ninja who can take care of herself.”
“If that was the case I would not have warded her apartment” he snapped and sighed.
“The only way to keep her safe is for her to meet you.”
“Really?” Sam said.
“Yes, so don’t be stupid... .er than normal,” he said and touched their forehead.
The four of them then stood in a messy apartment. Boxes were everywhere and the piles of books as tall as Sam throughout the place, they seem to be in the middle of a maze.
“Y/N?” Lucifer called out.
“Luci?” You cried out, within a few second you came out of your little maze and bear hugged him.
“Oh, my goodness Lucifer! It so good to see you! How did the demon thingy go? Is it over with?” you said but the stop talking when you saw the Winchesters and Cas.
“Umm. . .” you sat stepping back and hide slightly behind Lucifer.
“Who are they?”
“These idiots are Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They are here to help with the demon thing.” Lucifer said.
“But... umm . . . why are they here?”
“Crowley is in the city,” he said and you bite your lip.
“Luci-”
“I know,” he said kissing your forehead “I promise this will be over soon.”
“Okay,” you said.
~~~
Dean watched you as you clean, and he could help but notice how you were that opposite of Lucifer in every way.
He was loud, you were quiet.
Lucifer was tall, and you looked like you just barely hit 5 feet.
He was full of himself, and you shy.
But Dean liked was how when you were around, Lucifer was extremely kind and patine not only with you but with everyone, which has never happen before.
“So... umm Dean?”
“Yep.,” he said.
“Do you think... that the four of you can bet this demon?”
“Of course... .why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling about all of this.”
Lucifer when out to get food for everyone, Sam, and Cas when to check the surrounding areas to see if there were demons in the area, leaving you with Dean.
“We have fought a lot of demon over the years, I not worried about this one.”
“I feel insulted.” a voice said, and you screamed.
Crowley stood in the doorway of your apartment with a wicked smiled.
“You must be the lovely Y/N, future Queen of Hell. It just raises the question, to which king?”
“How did you get here?” growled Dean standing up and Crowley waved his hand and Dean hit the wall and fell unconscious.
“Dean!” you said and you were about to run to him but Crowley froze you to that spot.
“My my, when my demon’s said you were nothing like Lucifer I thought they were joking but they were serious. You are stupidly selfless, I mean, what is the point of running to him, instead of running away?”
“He could be hurt!”
“I doubt it, he is a thick head idiot. He lives, well that is if Lucifer doesn’t skin him alive because I have you.”
“I will not go will you!”
“You don’t have a choice, love.”
~~~
Lucifer feels like something was deeply wrong and he was right.
He came to Y/N’s trash apartment to find Dean unconscious in pile of books, and a Dean size imprint on her wall. Dean was lucky he was unconscious or Lucifer would be giving him the most unimaginable torture. He looked everywhere for a sigh of the little balding demon but nothing.
Lucifer was losing it when Sam and Cas showed up.
“What happened here?”
“Y/N was kidnaped! That what!”
“Is Dean-”
“He unconscious.”
Cas started to move to Dean.
“I would not heal him, because if he is, I may not be able to control myself and kill him.”
“Okay,” Sam said “Good news-”
“Good News!” Lucifer snapped.
“We now were they are. They are at 2064 Copper st-” Sam started but Lucifer disappear.
Lucifer reappears in a dark warehouse, and sense for Y/N’s soul. He found it appear next to it. Lucifer now stood next to you and he saw that you were hurt, but he would until what it was. He was about to heal you when Crowley called out.
“Well if it isn’t the first King of Hell here to save his little angel, without those annoying little Winchesters. How are they by the way? Are the missing me?”
“I don’t they would miss if they got the chance to shot you.” Lucifer growled, “How did you know about Y/N?”
“Well,” Crowley said with a smile “some people are not that loyal to their new king.”
Lucifer growled.
“I will kill you myself.”
“You will have to catch me first but I don’t think the poison is taking well to Y/N’s system.”
Lucifer turned to Y/N, who was getting paler and paler.
“Y/N!”
“Goodbye lover boy.”Crowley before disappearing. Lucifer didn’t know what to do, so he took her to the one person that would know.
God.
~~~
Chuck was not expecting to Lucifer today, nor his soulmate, but he showed up on the dining room table, he realizes then today was Thursday.
“Hurry, we most plum the poison out of her.”
Lucifer nodded as he set her down on the table.
“This will cause her pain,” Chuck said as he looked at his fallen son, who looked worried. Lucifer then made eye connect and nodded. Chuck put his hands on her hart and pulled the poison out. Y/N screamed and begged for it to stop and it took all of Lucifer strength not to listen to it. Soon Chuck took his hands off her.
“She will need rest”
“Of course, Father,” Lucifer whispered and he picked her up.
“Where do you think you are going?” Chuck asked.
“I was going to-”
“Take her upstairs to rest?”
“Yes?” Lucifer said.
“Good.” Chuck said, “I’m making your wedding plan and I need to two of you around-”
“Father-”
“You have asked her to marry you, right?”
Lucifer, who was beet red now turned away and took you to bed, where stayed with you till you woke up.
Warnings: mentions of parental death, slight angst
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, my lovely readers! Here’s a fluffy little Christmas fic for y’all. Hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, and if not, feel free to message me or send me an ask and we can hang out! :D
This fic takes place pre-season one, so Sam‘s just left for college, and Dean’s on his own.
Also, this is my first time using a tag list, so I’m sorry if I tagged you on something you didn’t want to read or if you just didn’t want to be tagged in general. Just send a me a message and let me know you want off!
Feel free to check out the rest of my masterlist!!
~~~
The dingy bar smelled strongly of smoke and alcohol, but Dean needed a drink, and that was all he could focus on.
He huffed as he sat on the barstool and gruffly asked for a beer. The bartender gave Dean his drink and hurried off to help the next customer. Dean took a swig from the bottle, not really caring that the drink tasted funny.
He had been somewhat emotionless these past few days; for once he’d be spending Christmas alone. Sure, he never celebrated much when Sam and their dad were around, but at least he wasn’t holed up in some random flyover state getting drunk off bottom shelf liquor.
“Is that Dean Winchester I see sitting alone on Christmas Eve?”
Dean spun quickly, recognizing the person’s voice almost immediately.
“Y/N?” The girl jokingly curtsied, and the two laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Dean hopped off the barstool to pick the girl up and spin her around. “How long has it been? Three years?”
“I think we’re coming up on four now, but who’s counting?” Goodness, that smile on her still seemed to melt Dean’s heart, even after all these years. “What’ve you been up to? Where’s your old man?”
“He’s, ah, occupied at the moment. I actually don’t know where he is right now. I split off from ‘im a while ago.”
“Oh… well that’s too bad. Last time I saw John he got so drunk that he started telling me stories about your toddler days,” Y/N said with a chuckle.
Dean jabbed a finger at her chest playfully. “I’ll have you know that I was an adorable child.”
“You keep sayin’ it, and I just might believe it.”
“So,” Y/N started as she took a seat at the bar, Dean joining her. “What’re you doing in a crappy bar on Christmas Eve, anyway?
"Sam’s in California, Dad’s who knows where, and I’m here–not much to it.”
"Well, if you’re up for it, I’m getting some friends together, and we’re gonna be celebrating the holidays up at our cabin. Why don’t you join us?” Y/N smiled warmly. “It’d be a great time to catch up. From what I’ve heard, you and your dad have been all over the place.”
Dean didn’t have to think twice about his answer. “I’d love to.”
~~~
Y/N’s cabin wasn’t anything special. It was a typical log cabin in the woods. Snow covered the entire property, and white string lights trimmed the roof. Frost covered the windows, but Dean could see the warm glow of light and the numerous silhouettes of the people inside.
Immediately entering the cabin, the smell of apple pie and honey-glazed ham hit Dean’s nose. His eyes drifted to the living room where a group of people were talking over beer, and a fireplace crackled in the corner.
Dean felt a bit out of place–like he was intruding on an exclusive family event.
Y/N seemed to notice Dean’s uneasiness and took his elbow and led him to the kitchen.
There, a woman with long, braided hair and a puffer vest was taking a pie out of the oven while a bald man with a lumberjack-esque beard was chopping carrots.
“Rebecca, Quentin!” Y/N called, holding her arms out for a hug.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, doll,” Rebecca said as she returned Y/N’s embrace.
“How’s it going, Y/N/N?” Quentin asked.
“I mean, you haven’t managed to burn down the cabin yet, so I’d say pretty good.”
Quentin threw a piece of carrot in her direction and mumbled a “shut up.”
“Guys, this is my friend, Dean.”
Rebecca and Quentin both said a cheery “hi,” and Dean was put a bit at ease. Y/N excused herself and Dean from the kitchen, eager to show him around.
“Come with me for a second,” Y/N said.
She led Dean down the hall past the living room and into a bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. Dean looked around the room, taking in all of the details with interest. He assumed this was Y/N’s room based on the photo garland above the bed. One specific photo caught Dean’s eye. It was a polaroid photo that Y/N had taken of the two of them the last Christmas they saw each other.
Dean gifted Y/N an instant camera that Christmas, and she couldn’t stop taking photos all day; Dean had to stop her so she wouldn’t run out of film too quickly.
This photo in particular was taken by Sam. It was the Christmas before he left for college. Y/N and Dean were both sat on the floor in front of their puny little tree. They were wearing matching Christmas sweaters that Sam had gotten them and had their arms around each other, laughing with wide grins and rosy cheeks.
Dean remembered loathing the holidays, but as soon as Y/N showed up, everything was instantly better.
Dean’s mind then drifted to the years when Y/N first came into his life. They were both tweens who were cooped up at Bobby’s at the same, and they’d been almost inseparable. John finally picked Dean and Sam up after a few months on his own, but by then Y/N was already long gone, out on the road with her own father.
They ran into each other a few years later, both seventeen and getting ready to start their adult lives. They were both at Bobby’s again, this time for completely different reasons. Y/N’s father had died while hunting a djinn, and Dean was just stopping by for supplies. He saw her huddled in the corner of one of the guest bedrooms, and his heart nearly broke. She wasn’t crying or anything–her face wasn’t even red.
She just looked numb. Empty. Broken.
Dean knew because she looked the exact same way he did when Mary died.
He slowly entered the room, and as soon as he sat on the bed, Y/N wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. They spent the night in each other’s arms, and Bobby didn’t seem to mind one bit.
After that night, Dean promised himself that he would never see Y/N like that ever again.
The Christmas that was captured in the photo was the first one where Y/N was actually herself.
Now here they were: celebrating the holidays together in a cozy cabin and finally catching up after so many years.
Y/N laid down on one side of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy, Winchester. We’ve done this before.”
Dean slowly climbed in next to her, and she snuggled into his side. They laid there for a few minutes without talking, simply enjoying the other’s closeness.
“Uh, not that I really mind, but why’d you bring me in here?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.
Y/N sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Just wanted to be near you is all.”
“You’ve still got feelings for me, don’t ya, Y/N/N,” Dean teased.
“Shut up,” Y/N replied, shoving his shoulder.
“So what if I did,” Y/N said after a few minutes.
Dean leaned his head back to look at her face and found that she was completely serious. His heart did a flip, and a wide smile broke out of his face. “Well I’d say that I still have feelings for you, too.”
Y/N peered up at him and smiled. Without thinking, Dean leaned in and kissed her, cupping her face with one hand. For a moment she didn’t respond, and Dean was getting ready to pull away when she winded her fingers in his hair. The beer on his tongue mingled with her peppermint chapstick. A feeling of warmth bubbled up in Dean’s chest, his sense of longing now fulfilled. He and Y/N fit together seamlessly, like the kiss was meant to be.
A soft knock at the door abruptly ended the moment.
“Food’s ready!” the voice on the other side called.
“Be there in a second!” Y/N replied.
She turned back to Dean and groaned into his chest, and he chuckled at her annoyance.
“C'mon,” he said. “Let’s go get some of that delicious pie.”
“You and your freaking pie.”
The atmosphere in the main part of the cabin was one of comfort and happiness. The food was great, and the people were more than eager to welcome Dean into their little family.
Although he barely knew anyone, he had Y/N by his side, and that was good enough.
Dean might not be seeing his family for quite some time, but with Y/N, it was like he was already home.
~~~
Mrs. Whozeewhatsis Tags (+ a few others that I think might enjoy this):
Warning: This is dark. Kidnapping, violence, talks of blood, sexual content, codependency & blood kink.
Summary: Dean and Reader are in an established relationship, that’s not at all healthy in the eyes of society. However, according to them what they have is perfect. They move from town to town wreaking havoc and leaving bodies in their wake.
A/N: The lovely @minininjanerd had sent in a request for a dean x reader, with this song as inspiration. Tear you apart by She wants revenge. I hope you all enjoy because serial killer!dean is one of my favorites. You like? Let me know because I love feedback! Have a great Monday!
“Pick one.” he whispered into your ear as his hand snaked up your bare thigh, “Pick the one you want to play with.” a little gasp of air left you mouth when his touch sent shivers down your spine.
You nuzzled against his lips, that were leaving a fiery trail down your neck then you pushed him away with flat palms against his chest, “Stop distracting me then Lover boy.” you purred, leaning towards him to nip his bottom lip.
You detangled yourself from his warmth, turning to look at the sea of people in the bar, trying to find that one special one, that was shining like a beacon. Trying to control your breathing, you ran your finger over your scarlet painted lips as Dean pushed away your hair from the nape of your neck and began the onslaught of his lips again, you continued to scan the bar until your eyes settled on her. A gorgeous waterfall of brunette hair reached the delicate curve of her ass, hazel eyes glittering in the lights and those dimples- that’s what made you choose her. The dimples when she smiled reminded you of someone and that made your blood heat up.
“Her.” you turned to Dean, grinning before you captured his lips in a bruising kiss and then pointed, “That one.That’s the one I wanna play with.”
He tilted his head to the side like a cute puppy, but you could see the gears whirring behind his sparkling mischievous green eyes, “We’re going to have so much fun tonight Sweetheart. So much fun.” His gravelly voice invoking a greedy moan from your lips.
“You can scream as loud as you want Love. Trust me no one is gonna hear you.” You whispered into her ear, you could smell the fear rippling off her, mingled with her sweet watermelon shampoo, “So, I suggest you enjoy the ride.”
Dean’s bare arms snaked around your waist, his body pressed snuggly to the back of yours. You could feel how much he was enjoying this by the hardness against your ass.
“You’re so hot when you take charge.” he licked a thick wet strip at the curve of your neck, making you wetter than you already were.
Then he went to stand in front of the girl, his jeans hanging low on his hips. You could see her eyes darting over his skin, she shouldn’t be enjoying him like that. You clenched your jaw and balled your fist at your side as you watched on. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as his hand fisted into her rich brown hair, “Tell me Sweetheart,” he began, his voice sounding like honey to your ears, “you want us to let you go?”
Her big doe hazel eyes widened, tears spilling over as she nodded with earnest, “Will you scream? If I remove the gag from your pretty mouth?” he asked, a smirk dancing on his sinful lips. She just shut her eyes, “Answer me!” he growled, tugging her head back sharply so that she was forced to open her eyes and nod.
You could feel your jealousy simmering beneath your already heated skin, jealousy and arousal pumping through your veins, making you half crazed. You wanted to push Dean aside and rip the bitch’s jugular out. So you could have the satisfaction of seeing her eyes go dim and her warm blood running in streaks down your skin.
“Sorry Sweetheart.” he pouted, tracing her dry chapped lips with his calloused finger, “My girl won’t like that and I’m all about making her happy. You understand that right?” You could see the fear and anxiety fill her chest when she began to shake and squirm.
“It’s futile.” you strolled up to her, looking into her eyes as your fingers crawled over Dean’s sun kissed body. Your fingertips trailed down his chest, you could feel his heart thrumming away in excitement, then down his stomach, over the huge bulge in his pants which you felt twitch at your touch, then down his bow thighs till you grasped the carving knife he always kept strapped to his ankle, “You should have drank more tonight because you’re never gonna get the chance again. Wanna know why?” you grinned toothily as your twirled the blade in your hand, “The only way you’re leaving this room, is in a pretty black body bag.”
Dean’s hand closed over yours when you gripped the blade in your fist. You loved this part. It was like waiting at the edge just before an orgasm, it was more exciting than the euphoria that followed. It was like when Dean decided if you were a good girl or not. You liked the teasing, that’s what made it fun. Dean and you moved like one, in complete harmony, two halves of a whole. Together, you dragged the blade across her creamy throat, the red spilling over making for a delicious contrast. The silence, when she stopped squirming felt like the first hit of a drug. It started a raging fire in the pit of your stomach when your saw the blood running down her body and dripping onto the once creamy carpets of the motel room.
Before you had a chance to drag Dean’s perfect mouth to yours, his big hands had already torn your flimsy dress right of your body. His mouth hot on your skin whilst he grabbed and groped handfuls of your flesh, sending you higher than you were already feeling before. This was what you lived for, the blood, the sex, Dean- it was all so addicting that you could never give it up. As long he needed you, you’d be there like a naughty little devil on his shoulder. The blood was just a catalyst.
“You wanna see how many times I can make you cum until she completely bleeds out?” he mouthed against your wet mound with a greedy smile on his face.
Summary: Y/N was excited for her friends 21st birthday, but when she got a knock on the door she was greeted by two FBI agents with bad news instead of her friends. The things the agents told her changed her life forever.
Warnings: angst, talk of death, written visualization of a dead body, dead friend of reader
A/N: this is written for @spnclassicbingo and kind of a strange portrayal. This is part 1 of I think a 2 part series. We’ll see, but when they’re finished they’ll all be linked appropriately. Let me know what you think of this, please. I’m on my phone so I hope the keep reading insert works okay
Pairings; General (for now, we as writers now how characters can develop on their own lol)
Square filled: Dead Body
W/C: 2k
Y/N had just finished cleaning the kitchen after putting the cake into the oven for her best friends birthday. As the sweet, vanilla aroma filled the room, she skipped around the kitchen to prepare the decorations. There would be about ten people in her little apartment for the party.
Twenty-one was certainly something to be celebrated, so she thoroughly enjoyed the preparations. She set the vodka, rum and whiskey along with mixers on the dining table before pulling one of the chairs around to put steamers on the walls.
She couldn’t help but to hum her favorite songs as she danced around the room, shaking her hips to the music in her head. She might have even been more excited than the birthday girl, but the truth was that she loved to host parties. Her friends jokingly call her the “group mom” for her efforts in making them safe, happy and healthy. She couldn’t help it. She loved them to no end.
So wrapped up in the music filling her ears, she almost missed the knock on the door. Gasping in excitement, she dropped the cups on the table and skipped to the door.
Instead of the few early friends she was expecting, there stood two tall men with somber yet stoic expressions. One wore a suit and tie with the proper suit jacket. The other wore a long jacket, ironically matching the beautiful, brown locks that he brushed out of his face before both held up their badges.
“Agent Sully and this is Agent Hitchcock,” he says.
She stifled a giggle by way of a hand covering her mouth, “aren’t those television characters?”
The shorter man, in comparison to the other, frowned and ignored her cheerful question and manner. “Ms. Y/L/N?”
His seriousness was enough to shock her into dropping the smile and straightening her posture, “yes, that’s me. What’s - what’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“Unfortunately there is,” the long haired man speaks out, she assumed this was Agent Sully. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?” he adds, gesturing into the house.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, opening her body to allow the men to enter. “Couch is just that way,” she pointed.
Agent Sully gave a small nod, smiling when he took the lead. Agent Hitchcock kept his face tight, examining her house on his way through.
When she shut the door behind them, she offered beverages to which both declined.
Agent Sully found his way to the couch, sitting on the edge of it with his hands folding between his knees. The other agent took his time, eyes scanning the alcohol and banners in the house.
He twirled a finger around, “I take it you're expecting people other than a couple of FBI agents,” he jokes with a chuckle, but the laugh is cold, empty.
She crossed her arms, looking proudly at her decorations and smiling at the formation of alcohol on the table, “it’s my best friends birthday,” she gleamed. “I’m throwing her a party.”
He nodded, lips pressed down. The other man squirmed uncomfortably, opening his hands to hold one out, “well, uh-“ he cleared his throat. “We’ll make this quick then,” he said.
The nosy agent found his way to the couch next to his partner, adjusting his pants and tie as he sat. Y/N stood in front of them, anxiously anticipating what was to come.
“Uh, ms.-“ one started.
“Y/N,” she said, withholding the smile. She was no longer excited about the party, her heart beated in an anxious pattern. She kept her arms folded in front of her as the men exchanged a glance.
Agent Hitchcock cleared his throat, and she couldn’t help to think that he was coming down with a cold and how she could help that. “Are you familiar with a woman named,” he stopped to look at the paper in his hands, shuffling it around to pull a picture out. “F/N?” He said before rotating the picture around to show her.
Her heart dropped, the blood rushed from her face. She no longer felt like she could stand and sat in the chair next to the couch, holding the picture to her face. It couldn’t be. It was her birthday, she was a good girl - what kind of trouble could she have gotten into?
“Miss?” One of the agents whispered, a hand on her knee.
She cleared her throat, fully understanding why the agents had been as well. Yet The lump wouldn’t go away and she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. She dropped the picture into Agent Sully’s lap and moved around the room, absentmindedly opening windows.
Agent Sully stood, “Y/N, do you know this woman?”
“Yes,” she blurted out, hands falling against her side. She focused on the heat from the slap, it was better than the heat in her chest. “What happened? Is she okay?”
She couldn’t believe it. Her hands found their way to her face, tears threatening to run free. Agent Sully wrapped his arms around her, but only to guide her to the chair once again.
When she sat, she uncovered her face, looking between the two men. She thought they either had no empathy for people or deal with this a lot, as their faces remained stoic as they told her about the death of her friend and asked questions regarding people who might have wanted to hurt her. That frustrated Y/N to no end, her face pressed together and she stood once again.
“What are you getting at?” She screeched. “My friend is - is apparently dead and you’re somehow saying she pissed someone off enough to kill her?” Sh accused.
The men stood, holding hands up in their defense and tried to calm her down. “No, look, Y/N,” Agent Sully said, shaking his head gently. “We just want to get to the bottom of this. We want to bring justice to your friend and find out who did this,” he said, exhaling a breath and dropping his hands. “That’s all.”
When she calmed enough, Agent Hitchcock requested the restroom and headed off in the direction she pointed him. Agent Sully took her in his arms again, and that’s when the tears broke free.
No amount of shock could prevent the pain she felt in that moment. She couldn’t focus on the words he was saying. All she wanted to do was smash all of the alcohol bottles against the wall, rip down the banners and throw the cake away.
Her nose crinkled, and the tears stopped long enough for her to realize she’d never pulled the cake from the fridge. “Oh no,” she cried, running to take it out.
She slammed the pan full of black, burnt cake onto the top of the stove, “damn it!” she yelled, tears pouring out again. Her heavy heart pulled her to the floor of the kitchen, tears running down her face rapidly. Her ears were ringing too loud to notice that Agent Sully had pulled her to a stand and wrapped his large body around her in a hug.
She knew she had only just met this person, but the most important person in her life was dead and it didn’t matter who was in front of her. If they were willing to offer solace, she was going to take it. He pulled one arm away to turn off the oven and then pulled her away from him.
With glossy eyes, she looked up at him, “I wanna see her,” she choked.
He only shook his head, mouth agape. The other agent stood behind him then, shaking his head more firmly. “That’s not a good idea,” he said.
She glared in his direction, “why not?”
“Your friend is um,” the softer spoken agent that kept a comfortable grip on her said, “not in very good shape.”
She ripped her body away from him, glaring at the two men. “Take me to her, please,” she cried.
They exchanged another glance. The tall one seemed to be pleading in her favor and the other reluctantly nodded.
__
The morgue was full of people, mostly ones with lab coats and scrubs on. The two men guided her back to the autopsy room where her friend was. The agent hadn’t lied, she looked to be torn to shreds. Her chest was opened like a zipper, a white sheet covered her from the waste down. Even with minimal visibility from the film of tears over her eyes, she could see deep scratch marks covering her friends face.
She brought her shaking arm up to point at her friends chest, “why is her heart missing?”
The two men looked at each other once again, clearly not knowing what to say.
“Why are you guys so damn cryptic?” she shouted.
Agent Sully took quick steps to her, looking out of the window to make sure no one had heard her outburst. He took her in his arms once again, but she was resisting. She didn’t want to be comforted by people who kept secrets. She wanted her friend. It was her birthday for fuck sake.
“We can’t talk about that here,” Agent Sully said softly.
“Take me to where we can talk about it,” she said, crossing her arms. “I want to know everything that you do, damn it.”
—
The two men led her back to their glossy, black Chevy Impala. She sat in the back and they, in the front, twisted around to speak to her face to face.
Agent Sully, with his hands folded together, spoke out, “my name is Sam and this is Dean. We’re - we’re brothers and -“ he looks at his brother, who nods. Looking back at his angry passenger, he continues in a soft whisper, “we’re actually not FBI agents. We hunt… things,” he said, face twisted as her scrunches into a frown.
“I don’t understand,” she said, head shaking. “You ‘hunt’ Things? What the hell does that mean?”
The driver, Dean, flipped around to face her better, “ghosts, vampires, demons, werewolf’s - that kind of thing. Your friend, I’m sorry, was probably killed by a werewolf.”
Sam scolded him, “Dean, gently.”
“I’m sorry,” he quietly shouted, and she felt that it was very insincere. She was proven right when he put his hands in the air and spoke again, “we don’t have time for this, Sam. It’s still out there, hurting people.”
“Is this some kind of prank?”
“No, this is very real,” Dean said, a little sympathy back in his words. “I am sorry, kid, but it’s the truth. Monsters are real and we kill them,” he said.
“No,” she said to herself, tears falling again. The taste of salt stood on her lips as she repeated the word.
“Look, Y/N,” Sam said, handing her a business card. “If you figure anything else out or hear anything about this - call this number to reach us and we’ll be right there, okay?”
She fumbled with the card, looking down at it but her mind was elsewhere. She was numb, lost and felt like she had nothing.
Finally, she spoke out, “I want to go with you.”
“No,” the two men said in unity.
She frowned, “please?”
“No,” Dean said, “no, Y/N, you know nothing about hunting - it’s too dangerous!”
“Then take me home,” she growled. “I’ll figure this out and do it on my own,” she said, crossing her arms and settling back against the seat.
Dean pointed a finger at her, “you’re not doing that either!”
“I do it with you or I do it alone,” she said, “either way, I’m getting revenge for my friend.”
Dean let out a sigh, he’s dealt with this kind before. The stubborn ones are always the most difficult. He rolls his eyes, turning the engine on and driving back to her house.
When they arrive, he turns back around. “Why don’t you sleep on it, huh? We’ll still be in town, so give us a call tomorrow and let us know what you want to do,” he said, merely just hoping she would comply.
She sighed, “okay.” Opening the doors, they lead her to the house and hugged in parting.
She knew her mind wouldn’t and couldn’t be changed. She was set on this new path, and she didn’t care how many bridges she burned on the way, she was going to figure out what goes bump in the night and do what these two do: no matter the cost.
A/N: Took off the summary. If you’ve made it this far, you know what’s going on;) If you haven’t check out the master list, links will be below :)
Pairings: Jensen X actress!Reader, Dean Winchester X hunter!Reader Ex!Jared X Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, talk of cheating,
Word Count: 1.8k
Masterlist
Part Seven
There’s a rustling noise by the door. Anxious and angry feet shuffle into the room. Swiftly, you pull yourself away from Jensen and stand. You see Jared with his arms crossed and lips taut.
The air crisps and tightens, as if it gets sucked right out of the room. Jensen slowly brings himself to his feet beside you, while you struggle to find a comfortable stance, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.
“So that’s what that was all about?” Jared barks, moving a finger between the two of you. “You ruined the take and everyone’s day because you want to defend your new girlfriend?”
Yesterday, you might have tried to calm him down, and you might have even left the room. Today, a fury whirls around in your stomach, and you take fearless steps towards him, pointing a finger.
“The only person to ruin the day was you, Jared,” you shout. Jensen stands by your side now, with a hand on your back in a soft gesture to claim that he’s on your side.
Jared’s face relaxes just slightly, arms now on his hips. You press on, “you hurt me more than anyone ever has, and you expect me to just live with that? You expect me to just be okay with you living your perfect, happily ever after with the woman you cheated on me with?”
His mouth hangs open, squinting eyes now open wide. You point your finger at him, “you brought this on yourself, Jared.”
“No, Y/N,” he growls. Looking between you and Jensen, the anger fills his face again. He tilts his head to the side, holding out a hand, “aren’t you getting married? You have someone at home waiting for you, and you’re here making out with someone you work with. How is that any different than what I did. You’re just as guilty,” he says, turning around to leave the room.
“Just as guilty, huh?” you chuckle. “Should I tell your wife that you kissed me, then?” you shout as he reaches the handle.
He freezes, turning around slowly. With your arms crossed, you glare at Jared and ignore the wide eyed expression beating on you from Jensen.
“You wouldn’t,” he says through clenched teeth, giving his head a single shake. He takes a step towards you, and is slightly hunched over at the torso.
“Why would I?” you shrug. “You can’t just go around kissing anyone you want and expect that it’s going to just be kept a secret,” you shout.
He straightens himself out, a cocky grin placed on his face as he folds his hands together in front of him. He takes a short moment to sort out his thoughts, looking between you and Jensen. “Should I tell your fiance that you kissed Jensen?” he says, pointing a finger at him while keeping his eyes glued on yours.
You smile, saying nothing for a moment. The gratification you know you’ll feel when he realizes that it’s a lost cause is worth seeing him soak in pride. “He’s only going to laugh,” you say finally. He stands stoic, keeping silent and seemingly frozen in thought. “You tell her, or I will,” you say, folding your arms. Jensen tightens his grip on your back.
He finally comes out of his thoughts enough to laugh, “she’s not going to believe you.”
“She’d believe me,” Jensen mumbles, softly shrugging. “I’ll tell her if you don’t,” he says with a straight face, but glaring Jared’s way.
“Seriously, man?” he gripes. “We’ve been friends for how long? And you’re not only gonna get with my ex, but you’re gonna try and ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”
You don’t expect that to hurt as much as it does, but as soon as those words hit your ears you belt out a hefty breath - as if they had punched you in the stomach.
“Why does that matter to you, anyway?” you shout, tears forming in the corner of your eye. “We have been separated for four years, Jared. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this; being kissed by the person who cheated on me, while he’s cheating on the person he cheated on me with,” you chuckle at the absurdity. “It’s like you want your cake and to eat it, too, but that’s not how things work. You don’t have any rights over me, you sure as hell can’t say what I can or cannot do. And that goes for Jensen, too.” You take a deep breath, softening your tone, “and like I said earlier, the only person to have ruined anything is you. She deserves to know, Jared,” you sigh.
He scoffs. “Unbelievable,” Jared bitterly chuckles before leaving the room.
Turning to Jensen, you focus on his tender expression. The affection he shows you only provokes more tears. You let yourself fall into his chest, wrapping your hands around his back. He brings his to the back of your head, patting it softly before running his fingers through your hair.
Pulling you tighter he shushes you, and you can feel the hum in his chest more than you can hear the words. “It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t let him get to you,” he delicately whispers. After giving you a moment to get your emotions out, he gently pulls you out of his chest. Wiping the tears from your eyes, he smiles. “What do you say we go out there, heads held high and finish out the day, huh?”
You only nod, wiping away the final tears. As you turn to face the door, having only taken one step, Jensen grabs onto your wrist and pulls you to face him again. His eyes link with yours before planting a kiss on your forehead.
Bringing his hands to your cheeks, he lifts you face to him. His eyes flicker between yours, showing you a deeper glimpse of the forest around his pupils. The back of his fingers rest against your cheek, while the other hand runs gently over your temple and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear.
He unhurriedly brings his face to yours, savoring every bit of the intimacy between the two of you before having to leave. You watch his eyes shut, and his lips creep closer to yours before allowing your own eyes to fall closed. He kisses you delicately, lips smooth and pressing snug against yours.
The kiss only lasts a moment, but the fluttering in your stomach is all the same. As he pulls away, and eyes open they land on you. “Everything is going to be okay,” he whispers. “I promise.”
You want to ask him if he’s sure and how he knows that everything will be fine, but something inside of you is saying to trust him. You have someone on your side for the first time in a long time, and you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. You force a smile, and nod at him.
Walking out of the door and down the hallway, a notion of courage fills your being. You hold your head high just as he said, and ready yourself for any and all antics that could transpire. A you near the edge of the hallway, you feel the faint brush of his fingers against your hand.
You turn to face him, a smile forming on your face against your will and link fingers with him. He smiles in return, tightening his grip on your hand and walking in sync with you back out with the crew.
Your smile drops when you see Robert Singer with his hands folded together, Jared by his side. Robert unwraps his hands and uses one to gesture you over to him. Taking a deep breath, you try to settle the rattling and increasing beating of your heart. Taking slow steps over, the four of you huddle in a group of tense air. Robert shakes his head before opening his mouth to speak, losing the words before they can make their way out.
He takes another breath, “look. I don’t know what’s going on between the three of you,” he sighs. “But let’s at least try to keep things somewhat professional around here, okay? You can settle this fight - or disagreement, whatever you want to call it - on your own time, but we have deadlines to make, guys.” His eyes shift between the three of you, sympathetic yet rightfully annoyed, “let’s just get through these scenes today, okay?”
You nod, but keep your eyes on the ground. You bring a hand to your chest to make sure you’re still breathing. When you bring your eyes back up, you notice that Jensen’s hand never left yours and Jared’s squinting eyes are locked in on them.
Robert walks back to his place by the camera, motioning for the three of you to head back onto the set. Polly rushes over to your side with her repair kit, but Robert speaks out before she can lift her arm.
“Don’t worry about makeup, dear,” he waves. “We’re short on time, and the puffy, teary faces will work well for these scenes, anyway.”
She scurries off as you find your mark by the bed, Jensen stands with his arms crossed and back to Jared. Robert counts down to one before calling action and you step to your second mark.
The Winchester’s face away from each other. Sam exhales slowly before bringing himself around to face Dean’s back. “Look, Dean. It was stupid,” he rolls his eyes, letting his arms fall to the side, “it - it was reckless, and -”
Dean flips around, eyes full of animosity and eyebrows pushing together, “you bet your ass it was stupid,” he shouts, wagging a finger at his brother. Sam nods slowly, letting out a weighted breath, “you could have gotten yourself killed, Sam!”
“But he didn’t, Dean,” you say. “He-”
“I don’t care, Bell!” he shouts without removing his eyes form Sam. You cower back a step, putting your hand in the other and rubbing on your palm. “What were you thinkin’, Sam?” He says, voice just a bit softer, “were you even thinking?”
Sam opens his mouth, the words falling out before he can catch them. “I - I know, Dean,” he starts looking over at you. In the script, you know you’re supposed to hold “disappointed eye contact” with him, but you look away instead. He brings his eyes back onto Dean, “I - I was just doing what I could to protect you, protect Bell,” he says with a hand pointing your way.
Dean takes a step towards him, “you can’t just throw yourself in the line of fire like that, Sam.” He breathes deeply, eyes falling shut. When he opens them again, he takes another small step towards Sam, “I’d be a mess without you, man.”
“I know, Dean,” Sam sighs.
“And cut,” Robert calls out harshly. “Great, he says in monotone, “now, was that really so hard?” he says with a sigh.
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