The day Dean Winchester crashed into your life, something changed. A shift. An alignment. Call it what you may. He was everything. Strong, handsome, and a skilled hunter. You were helpless about the man 12 years your senior. He left as quickly as you met him, but it wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths. Far from it. Dean Winchester trusted you, and he would bring you pain, life, heartache, and euphoria in return.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: angst, language, Age gap (legal), sexual situations, Dad!Dean
Words: 3,396
November 2014 - 23 Years old
Season 10.6 - Fanfiction
Supernatural the musical? Supernatural the musical? As if it wasn’t bad enough that there were books about the Winchesters’ lives, and subsequently yours too, this was worse. You hoped they skipped over your part in the series because that would be humiliating too see your life on stage.
Though you were a bit amused about Dean’s insistence that there was no singing in Supernatural. You had to hide a laugh with a cough because you had witnessed many times him singing along to his cassettes for hours on end. You had joined in with him more times than you could count, much to Sam’s annoyance at the both of you.
It was a relief to not see your look-a-like in the auditorium spouting a one-liner over and over again. What would your one-liner even be? The Bobby saying “idgit” was a no brainer and Cas’ “Hey Ass-butt” was funny at the time even though you were in the middle of preventing an apocalypse. Whatever your popular one-liner was was bound to horrify you.
Sam had gone off with Maeve and you trailed along behind Marie and Dean to Mrs. Chandler’s office, searching for any sign of, well, supernatural.
“Where’s Y/N?” Dean wondered, glancing quickly back at you before turning his attention back to Marie.
“Our Y/N is out today for an optometrist appointment. One of the stunts went wrong the other day and it broke her glasses. Which makes me nervous because we were supposed to run the Dean/Y/N/Sam love triangle—” Dean cut off Marie’s rambling the same time Sam found you all in the office.
“What triangle?” Dean scoffed at the playwright.
You gave Sam a confused look and he shrugged back.
“Oh, come on. You call yourselves fans? You’ve read ’Swan Song’ right? Dean abandons Y/N for Lisa. Sam is back from the dead and tracks Y/N down at Paradise City to help on a hunt, and they totally hooked up.”
Dean’s snapped his head back and forth between you and Sam. None of you had actually read the final Supernatural book.
“They do not!” The words flew out of yours and Sam’s mouth in an instant.
Marie rolled her eyes. “It was heavily implied. Y/N lonely and yearning for any piece of Dean. Sam apparently giving no regard for Dean upon his return. The words desperation and crashing of lips doesn’t make me inclined to think they had a heartfelt conversation,” she smirked.
“Desperation? I-uh-Y/N was not desperate, she was fine without Dean at Paradise City. I’m sure she loved working there,” you defended yourself.
“Don’t get me wrong, I support Y/N’s arc and being on her own, but her life is forever entangled in the web of Winchester. In Act 2 we really explore her complicated relationship with Dean, which is controversial to say the least, and how Sam could be the one to pick up the pieces.”
“Y/N would never—” Your face was burning.
“Marie!” One of the actors called out from the stage, pulling her attention elsewhere.
“I could really debate this all day, but we really have to get back to rehearsal.” Marie bowed out.
You could feel Dean’s gaze drilling a whole in your head.
“Dean—” you started but he help up his hand to stop you.
“Let’s get back to the motel, huh? Pick up some beers. Talk about this like adults?” Dean’s tone was too chipper. You knew he was holding back his anger by the tightness in his jaw and his furrowed brows. He didn’t say another word as he lead the way to Baby.
That night had honestly been forgotten and blocked out. You shared a grimace with Sam. He too had forgotten about that night.
****
Dean twisted off the bottle cap, took a few generous gulps, and turned to you and Sam who sat on opposite beds. You felt uncomfortably small under Dean’s narrowed eyes.
“Okay, lovebirds, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“Dean, we we didn’t sleep together, swear to god.” Sam held his hands up. “I didn’t even remember that night until Marie brought it up. It was so insignificant.”
Dean looked expectantly to you.
“It honestly slipped from my mind, Dean. It was dark time for me.” He winced a bit, remembering exactly why.
“And I was soulless, which is the only reason it got that far.”
“How far?” The hurt leaked into his voice and a part of you felt guilty. But he abandoned you and you had never been officially together.
“Dean—” you sighed.
“Y/N, how far? Tongue? Hand—”
“Why does it even matter? We didn’t have sex, okay.”
“It meant nothing, seriously. Y/N is family to me and just thinking about it now makes me want to throw up,” Sam reassured him.
“Same,” you agreed.
“Besides Y/N freaked out before it lead anywhere and she wasn’t the init—” Sam cut himself off when he saw Dean’s jaw clench and his knuckles turn white. “Maybe I should let you two talk this alone.” Sam looked to you apologetically.
You nodded reluctantly. As much as you didn’t want to face Dean alone, it was the right thing to do. Sam all but ran out of the room.
Silence fell once again. You took a deep breath. His eyebrows shot up in anticipation.
“Look, what happened that night is something I blocked out and all we did was make out for maybe five minutes.”
Dean took a few more gulps of beer. He wished he had something stronger.
“As soon as he tried to take it a step further I came to my senses and kicked him out. It didn’t mean anything. Dean, I love—“ in the end you couldn't say that it was still present tense, “—ed you. You weren't just a fleeting crush. I would have given anything for you to love me back. To not leave me alone. It probably would have hurt less if you hadn't left me for another woman. And an older, more mature woman at that." You pushed your palms into your eyes, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill over again.
Dean's throat tightened, unsure how to approach when you had begun pacing.
You took a shuddering breath. "A very hard to shake insecurity spawned from that. One that I had been too head over heels to originally consider."
“Y/N—“
An almost hysterical bubbled out of you. "God, I was so fucking naive!” You still are the voice in your head responded.
“It's my fault Y/N, I should have never crossed that line with you when you were so young. I'm sorry for causing you so much pain.”
You stopped in your tracks, bouncing between shocked at the apology and ownership Dean took, but there was also a flash of anger, indignation. Once again the beginnings of your relationship had been reduced to you being young.
The air was dead silent. You didn’t even breath until all the feelings just washed away. Your body settled on numb. Much like it had after crying for months after Dean left you.
"For fuck's sake,” you murmured to yourself.
"Hey," Dean's hand rested on your shoulder before spinning you to face him. He startled a little at the defeated look in your eyes.
"Just forget it, Dean. Be mad at me. Don't be mad at Sam, he was an ass when soulless. Hence why he brought you back to me after I told him to never darken my doorway again." You ran a hand through your hair.
"I'm not mad at you, I was just shocked is all, " Dean said softly. "I know I shouldn't be upset about what happened."
You snorted. "But you are. I can see you putting on a front right now to get me to not completely lose it.”
“I’m not," he insisted.
"You're not going to over analyze any time I accidentally sit to close to Sam? Give him a weird look? Or when he asks me to go for a run with him? Anytime you have to leave us alone in the bunker?”
Dean tried to deny it, but he hesitated for a split second.
"Exactly.” You threw your hands up. "Look, I'll get my own room for the foreseeable future?” Your feet walked you to the door, but Dean's hand shot out in front of you, covering the doorknob from your grasp.
"Don't." Dean said, low and thick. "Please don't."
The pleading tone had your spine stiffening. You had too much of a soft spot for Dean. If you turned around to see the sad puppy dog look in those beautiful green eyes it was all over. All traces of anger would be gone with that look. You’d fall for him for the millionth time.
"I worry too much when you aren't with us. I won't get any sleep if you're alone. I'll kick Sam onto the couch so you don't have to share a bed with me.” You eyed the puny, grimy couch in the front of the room.
"I've caused enough problems for the night.” You tried to reach for the doorknob again but Dean caught your wrist and spun you around to face him.
The open distress and vulnerability on his face had the walls you had been desperately cobbling together disintegrating. But who were you kidding? Dean could break through you even if you had constructed the pentagon to keep him out. He was nuclear bomb to your heart and soul.
You hated yourself as you felt your body fling itself at Dean without a thought, crushing your lips to his. He didn't push you away. If anything he had been expecting it.
A sense of guilt tugged in the pit of Dean's stomach. He was selfish. Any time you were close to distancing from him, he reeled you right back in. Dean couldn't bear the thought of leaving you again. Now it was twisted into a sick want to not have you leave his side and to be your number one.
He laced his hands in your hair, keeping your lips secure to him. The back of your legs found the edge of the bed and you let yourself fall back. Once again your body and heart betraying your self-preservation.
You would take Dean however you could, whenever you could. His urgency and need for you intoxicating you senses. It didn’t take long for your brain to also jump on the band wagon. You cupped his cheeks and deepened your kiss and pulling him tighter on top of you.
****
When Sam came back, reluctantly, there was no denying what had transpired. You and Dean were both freshly showered, your hair still wrapped in a towel. You sat contently on Dean’s bed with a book in your hand while he dozed beside you, hand resting against your leg.
Sam was relieved at this outcome. If you had been gone then Dean would have been unforgivingly angry. At least it was apparent the pair of you had made up. Even though it was something silly in the first place. It was over five years ago, and it was soulless Sam that had kissed you first probably just trying to start shit. Soulless Sam liked to be a shit stirrer.
Maybe a part of him thought making Dean possessive and jealous would make him face his reality that if he wasn’t serious with you than he could lose you. Sam wished he could make his brother and you just lay it all on the table and finally take that leap. Back when Sam had encouraged Dean to pursue Lisa it had been because you were barely adult and he thought you would be better off without Dean.
Now he knew he had been wrong. He had witnessed the fierceness in you when it came to Dean. When Sam had given up on getting Dean out of purgatory, you had chewed his ass out and continued relentlessly to find Dean. And Sam had seen that fierceness echoed in Dean. Sam could be injured and Dean would be concerned, but when it came to you he fretted, even if it was just a close call. Those were the nights Sam did not dare try to seek out either of you.
You looked up to Sam and gave him a nod of reassurance. A silent “everything can go back to normal.” And it did. Whatever you had said to Dean had put him at ease. Though Sam was a bit annoyed that it hadn’t been the kick in the ass for Dean to make it official with you.
*****
April 2016 - Almost 25 years old
Just after Season 11.12 - Don’t You Forget About Me
Dean had never really truly considered being an actual dad in his lifetime, but here he was. He had a daughter who he was going to show up for and fight like hell to.
MJ was now his world and it hadn’t even taken twenty four hours for that feeling to set in. His own eyes staring wide eyed in awe back up at him had his heart pounding painfully in his chest.
Which is why his breakfast had mostly gone untouched at the diner near Jody’s. He just kept watching MJ, a happy and content baby thankfully especially with food around, in her high chair observe the world around her and eat an array of baby friendly breakfast foods.
The staff knew you well, since you had grown up going to this diner, and had gotten acquainted with MJ pretty quickly. You were here at least once a week on Jody’s day off with her, Jody, Alex and Claire. You’d also find yourself here after particularly rough nights with MJ that you usually also worked bartending at Paradise City.
The waitress, Ida, that had been here since you were a little girl was now the manager and a grandmother herself who was more than happy to tote around MJ like she was another grandchild while checking in on other tables. Letting you try to eat all of your meal and drink as much coffee as you could before going on about your day on only three hours of sleep.
“Just you watch, Ida is going to come around with more fruit salad as soon as MJ finishes this round,” you mused over your cup of coffee to Dean.
Sure enough, the moment the last cantaloupe had been swiped from MJ’s tray straight to her mouth, Ida was swooping in with a new bowl.
“For our little lady,” she cooed and patted MJ’s hair down. “Anything else I can get you, Y/N?”
You looked down to your still half full plate and the carafe was still decently full. “I’m good, thanks. Dean?” You looked to him and his unusually full plate.
Ida’s smiled dimmed a bit when she turned to Dean, but gave him her attention.
“Um, no. I’m great, thanks,” Dean cleared his throat. Ida gave a curt nod before smiling widely back at MJ and departing. “I don’t think she’s a fan of me.”
You frowned at little. “An unfortunate side effect of being a small town. Especially being a long time local. The Y/L/N’s daughter being made a single mother.”
“They know that I’m her—”
“I never told anyone, no, but you being here next to her, it’s hard to deny who you are,” you smiled a little. It would always bring you joy how much MJ took after Dean. Your own little piece of him.
Dean smiled back and reached to grab you hand not balancing a cup of coffee.
“Are those my favorite girls in all of Sioux Falls?” a man called out and approached their table, a confident swagger in his step.
You tensed a bit before putting on an easy smile. “Morning, Harvey.”
Harvey? Dean recognized the name but had a hard time remembering why. The man, Harvey, popped into a squat next to MJ’s highchair to be at eye level with the infant.
“How’s it going MJ, not keeping your mom up at night again are you?” he teased.
MJ smiled at him and attempted to grab a fistful of his hair. He dodged with practiced ease and turned his attention to you.
“All good? Heard there was a commotion at the school the other night with Sheriff Mills?”
“Yeah, all good. She’s fine, Alex and Claire are fine. We’re fine.” You gaze flicked over to Dean.
Harvey followed your gaze and he frowned at the sight before him. “Dean, right?”
Dean’s eyebrows rose. “Have we meet?”
“Not officially. I’m a friend of Y/N’s. We went to high school together and used to work at the coffee shop together. You came in one time and then she disappeared for a week,” Harvey elaborated not so kindly.
“That wasn’t his fault,” you groaned, “That was totally on me.”
Harvey grunted in disagreement. “What brings you to town, Dean?”
“Family.” Dean gestured to you and MJ. It wasn’t a lie, Claire had told him to come, and Claire was also family. But Harvey didn’t need to know he had discovered the truth less than 48 hours ago.
Harvey turned back to you, brows raised and his eyes accusing. “You planning on staying a while?” This was directed at Dean without his gaze leaving yours.
Dean’s heart sank when he saw the briefest flicker of sadness in your eyes. “I’m staying as long as I can.”
“Such a shame you’ll have to leave Y/N… again. And now MJ.”
“Harvey,” you snapped and the man held his hands up in defense.
“Can’t fault me for speaking the truth, Y/N.”
“I can and I am,” you hissed.
He smiled brightly back at you making Dean’s stomach turn because your facade slipped a bit at it. It was as if Harvey had just disarmed your anger for a split second.
“I will see you later, right? Tank’s got you behind the bar?”
You shot a glance at Dean. “I don’t think that’s a go—”
Harvey silenced you with a kiss to the top of your head and then MJ’s before swaggering back out of the diner.
“What the hell was that?” Dean tried not to let the green eyed monster get the better of him, but his voice came out rough and angry.
“It was Harvey, that’s all,” you groaned, staring into your cup of coffee.
“Please enlighten as to what ‘that’s all’ is.”
“Dean,” you looked up at him, tired.
“We said total honesty,” he reminded you.
“Fine,” you sighed and turned slightly pink. “Harvey and I dated.”
Dean opened his mouth to ask for specifics, but you silenced him with a glare.
“Before you get all possessive as you like to do, we dated in high school for a majority of senior year, I ran off with you and Sam literally the day of graduation and he went off into the military. I had not spoken to him until I returned to Sioux Falls when I found out I was pregnant with MJ. He came back about two years ago to take care of his dying dad and take over his business.”
“What kind of business?”
This question confused you. “Why?”
Dean shrugged. “Curious.”
“An auto body shop.”
He laughed and this threw you more off guard.
“You have a type.”
You did not appreciate this line of conversation. “Be serious, Dean.”
“Oh, you want me serious?” Dean leaned forward smirking. “Because he’s serious about you.”
“He’s just flirting harmlessly.” You rolled your eyes, but there was doubt in your voice,
“I know you’re not missing the signs, Y/N. I can see you now trying to ignore them.”
“We’re just friends,” you insisted.
Dean nodded. “You are, but that’s not what he wants.”
“But he knows I don’t want that.”
“Doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying. Not when it comes to you,” Dean reached out and held your hand. “And I don’t blame him.”
You averted your gaze to MJ who was watching the pair of you intently.
“He hates your guts, by the way.” You tried to pull Dean back to a less dangerous territory.
“Oh, I totally got that.” His smirk widened and he didn’t let go.
A/N: I swear I am still writing this! This a drabble fic that does not follow chronological order. It jumps around from past/present/future in every part. The reader is the same reader throughout.
The day Dean Winchester crashed into your life, something changed. A shift. An alignment. Call it what you may. He was everything. Strong, handsome, and a skilled hunter. You were helpless about the man 12 years your senior. He left as quickly as you met him, but it wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths. Far from it. Dean Winchester trusted you, and he would bring you pain, life, heartache, and euphoria in return.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, language, past miscarriage, Age gap, sexual situations
Words: 9,014
July 2011 — 20 years old
Between 6.2 Two and a Half Men and 6.3 The Third Man
"Really, Sam? The one time you choose a strip club, I don't want to go?" Dean asked, incredulous as he pulled into the almost packed parking lot of Paradise City Lounge.
"I wouldn't call it just a strip club. They're more performative, for lack of a better term."
"Lisa—“ Dean frowned.
"The food here is phenomenal and has some of the best pie in the state.”
Dean had to bite his tongue to refrain from stating you made the best pies in the state... the state he had left you. It took a minute to pull his thoughts away from you. Before he could wonder if you were happy and what you got up to now, over a whole year later since he had last seen you.
“Y/N?” "Sam gave Dean an almost jovial smile.
"Don’t,” Dean warned, he had avoided Conversations of you with Sam for the last few months and he would like to continue to do that for as long as possible.
"Touchy," Sam snarked and headed towards the entrance. Not waiting for Dean.
Paradise City pleasantly surprised Dean. It was definitely the cleanest strip club he'd ever stepped into. He wasn't sure how he'd never stopped here before. It was right near Sioux Falls. He'd had to have passed a million times, yet he'd never noticed.
Sam was right, much to Dean's annoyance. It wasn't a strip club per se. Sure women were half naked, pole dancing, but it seemed more choreographed. This was confirmed When an emcee announced three dancers who came onto the stage and did the same moves on the triangular set poles on the elevated runway. They even had coordinating outfits.
It almost felt too artsy. They were seated at a table to the back. The booths are near the front were packed with both men and women.
Dean immediately saw the pie specials displayed on the table.
"Yeah, I'll be having the caramel apple pie with a beer. Before my meal,” he alerted the waitress who laughed.
"You have the right idea. They sell out fast. They're made fresh in house.”
Sam shook his head, biting back the devious smile that was pulling at his lips.
Dean already had his fork in the air as the waitress approached with his pie. Dean had hardly any time to survey the place before and definitely not now. The pie had his full attention.
“Oh my god." Dean held it up to his eyes after his first bite. It was heaven, an almost familiar heaven he had tasted before. "Are they lying about it being made in house? I feel as if I've had it before? Maybe a diner in Sioux Falls?”
Sam made a nonchalant humming noise as the dance ended and he looked curiously back stage at a silhouette in the shadows.
Dean took another bite, trying to really taste it this time instead of his usual inhale. A perfect balance of sweet, tart, and rich. He just needed some ice cream to complete it.
A distant pangs struck Dean in his chest. He stopped breathing for a few seconds. The sadness and guilt was painful as Dean realized why the pie was perfect to him. It tasted just like yours. Not as fresh, as he usually ate them within an hour of you pulling it out of an oven.
The times you were able to bake for him were rare with the intensity of your final hunts. But you happily whipper everything up from scratch by hand. Dean was pretty sure the the cast iron pan and minimal cooking supplies were still stashed in the trunk of Baby. Most likely tucked safely in the crate that held a few emergency snacks, which were probably stale now over a year later.
Sam hadn't missed Dean tense even though his eyes still lingered on the silhouette who was now bouncing in her heels. "It tastes like Y/N’s. Nearly identical from the few slices you allowed me to have back then.”
Dean frowned. “Maybe it's a special South Dakotan recipe. She said her mom taught her."
"Sure," Sam acquiesced.
"What are the chances Y/N, our Y/N—“
“Our?" Sam questioned.
Dean ignored him and continued. "Made these pies for a strip club"
"You're right what are the odds Y/N ran off to a strip club after you left her." Sam smirked to himself.
Dean was preparing to chew him out but the emcee would have drowned out anything he would have said.
"It is my honor ladies, especially the ladies, and gentleman to welcome the lovely, multi talented, Lacey D. C. "
There was a roar of applause and hooting and hollering from the crowd, like they had been anticipating this.
Dean snorted. "I always felt like that was a stripper name whenever Y/N used that alias."
Sam had to stifle the laugh that was threatening to burst out of him.
"She thought she was being so creative, "Dean mused, getting a slightly distant look in his eye , the opening to AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" started to play. The dancer slowly strutted to the center of backstage, her profile hidden by the silvery wig. Her body not fully on display, hidden in a satin black robe. She played with it at her shoulders, teasing it down with a sway in her hips.
Dean didn't have to see much of the dancer for alarms to go off in his brain. Each new part exposed made it increase in decibel. He knew that form. He was intimately familiar with it.
Dean's mouth went dry as the dancer dropped the robe at the pick up of the song, and threw herself at the center pole. She elegantly whipped around it in a feat of acrobatics he'd never witnessed at a strip club.
"What the fuck?" was all Dean could say. “Y/N?”
"In the flesh." Sam grinned, pressing a beer bottle to his lips. Enjoying the range of emotions running across Dean's face. Confusion, shock, anger, amazement, lust, and then settling back on anger.
When he had told you to find something else to do besides hunt, this was not something he had in mind. He expected, no wanted, you to go to go to college and put your brilliant mind to use.
But here you were, though you looked elated and at home in your performance, Dean couldn't quell the twist of guilt in his gut that somehow he may be at fault. That you have possibly pursued this to spite him, which made him angrier.
But he couldn't take his eyes off you as he tried to push down the ache of missing you. Of being with you. He had worked so hard at separating the friendly memories from the intimate ones. He had locked them in a safe in his mind as he watched you breakdown in the rearview mirror of Baby when he left you at Bobby's. He had tried driving away from anything the two of you could have ever possibly been.
"You knew didn't you?" Dean managed to say through gritted teeth. He wanted to sucker punch Sam so hard in that moment. "That's why you brought me here."
Sam shrugged. "I told you, we could use her help. I’m just getting the gang back together. Too bad Cas didn't stick around."
"How long have you known?"
"Do you really want the answer to that?" Sam was met with silence. “A few months before I came to you."
"And you didn't care to tell me? Wait, wait, Y/N knew you were alive before me, and she didn't think to call me?"
Sam laughed at this. "Did she have a number to contact you with? Better question, why would she call you. Fully expecting you to not answer."
"She told you about the aftermath?"
"Kinda easy to ask about when I first tracked you down to find you with Lisa playing house. I almost thought you would have—“ Sam stopped himself, knowing it would irk Dean. And he was right, Dean visibly bristled at the intent of the sentence. "I almost thought you would have stayed with Y/N. The woman desperate for your love and giving you so much for nothing in return. But you decided to take everything".
Sam didn't need to say it for Dean to think it. He was a masochist through and through. Always filled with guilt and regret.
Sam continued his guilt trip. “But you didn't answer my question. If she would have called , any one your burner phones, hell, your main phone, would you answer? Were your phones even on In case of an emergency?”
Dean downed the rest of his beer.
No. He had turned of all of his phones and chucked them in the back of Baby. Probably right next to your cooking supplies. Only to be forgotten while he continued living a white picket fence life.
“I mean I don't really need to ask. Y/N made it pretty clear when I saw her last that she had no way of contacting you. Accept showing up on Lisa's doorstep. Can't blame her for not doing that." Egging on Dean was new favorite game for Sam.
"How did you even find her?” Dean ignored him once again.
“It wasn’t that hard, she didn't go far. And she was, well is, still working local hunts with Bobby here and there."
Dean's jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed in on you as smiled dazzlingly at the crowd. "She still hunts?"
"On her own terms,” Sam said with a tinge of annoyance. "I went and found her because Samuel wanted her to join us I offered and—“ Sam rolled his eyes.
"And?"
"She screamed in my face and told me to get the hell out. To not return again. Would have been hurtful if not for the fact I know me being alive again was still freaking her out."
"That doesn't sound like Y/N. “
Sam scoffed. “Well she did.”
The song ended and you happily collected the swaths of money strewn about the stage.
“What's your plan?" Sam finished his beer.
"Just wait till she notices us." Dean looked down at the menu. Trying to determine what would be best to eat while he bides his time until the inevitable confrontation.
“Chicken,” Sam said. "I've got a better idea."
* * * *
There was a knock at the dressing room door before the owner of the lounge, a muscled teddy bear of a man named Tank, walked in. The dancers all greeted him with wide smiles. It had been a good night so far with no unruly customers. Though those were far and few between because Tank ran a tight ship and wasn't afraid to join the security and bouncers to protect his employees. He searched the room till his eyes landed on you stashing the cash into your locker.
You noticed on his approach that he was a bit worried . His eyes tight and a frown, a rare sight, that only seemed to be directed at you.
“What is up? Is everything okay?" You reached down to undo you heels, you didn't have another set for an hour and just felt like relaxing instead of working the floor.
"You have a request for a private room."
You groaned and started to redo the buckle of the ankle strap. "Be right out."
But Tank didn't walk away. You saw his hand twitch in your peripheral. He was nervous. You looked up to meet his gaze.
"It's that guy again. The tall one,” Tank warned and your became uneasy.
“Okay," you breezed, trying to shake off the sense of unease. All you had to do was tell him off again. Maybe threaten to kick his ass, though you knew that would probably end up with your own ass handed to you.
"He has another man with him."
You sighed. He must have brought Samuel with to try and talk her into joining them. Odd to bring your grandfather to a strip club and to meet the former part-time entertainment of his other grandson.
“Y/N, what's going on? Are you in trouble? Do you need me to get security? Last time he spooked you so bad, you had to take off a whole week."
"No, it's fine. He just really wants me to get back into his family's business. I'll be okay."
You pulled an oversized sweater from your locker, not wanting to be half-naked around Sam ever again. Especially around his grandfather. It'd be weird.
"He just wants to talk and pitch yet again. I'll chew him out myself. It shouldn't take long. I'll hit the panic button if I need you." You patted Tank’s shoulder as you walked past him to the private room.
You took a steadying breath before you swung open the doors. "I thought I told you to not come back, Sam. I don't want to join another hunting group." You rubbed your temples, now wishing for this night to be over.
“He figured you'd say that.” A familiar velvet voice murmured. Your heart raced and you opened your eyes to see the back of Dean Winchester lounging in the deep green couch. He lazily swirled a whiskey glass around in his extended hand.
"Dean." You hated how torn up you sounded. Like you had a glimmer of hope he had finally come back for you.
“Y/N,” he greeted in a clipped tone. "This doesn't look like a college course to me?"
“Well, I tried it and it wasn't for me.”
"You didn't try very hard, seems like you've been here a while." Dean quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Well, I blew all I had left paying too help feed, shelter, and fund us that year. And I had nothing but the duffle you tossed at me and one small box at Bobby’s.” Anger lit in you. It was amazing how quickly it burned out any sentimentality.
Dean jaw clicked, unable to find a retort for that point.
"So what’s a woman to do with zero assets, and no place to live?”
"Bobby..."
"I wasn't going to burden him with my shit. So, I found this place, which was a fucking pit. Like love Tank, but this place needed some TLC.”
“Tank?"
"He's the owner, besides the point, Dean. I brought this place back from the brink of being condemned. Now it's a packed house every weekend and holiday. I think that's a great accomplishment for me."
"Taking your clothes off?" Dean scoffed. A peel of hysterical laughter burst out of you. Almost a witch’s cackle.
"That's fucking rich coming from you, the man of many perversions and frequent flyer of titty bars."
“Well, you’re you. I'm me."
“What's that supposed to mean?" You reeled, subconsciously picking at the bottom of your sweater. The man was good at luring out your hidden insecurities.
Dean's eyes softened a bit as he regarded you. A year ago it may have made you turn to
goo. Now it pissed you off.
"You can't be serious," you scoffed. "You still see me as an innocent
little girl who doesn't know what she's got herself into.”
It wasn't a question, it was as plain as day on his face. It was confirmed even more when he gave an exasperated sigh.
"Fucking hell, Dean. Stop pushing me back into the box of the young, naive girl you met 5 years ago whenever its convenient for you."
"I'm not pushing you into anything." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"Then why are you acting like I shouldn't be here?"
"I just think you should be applying yourself elsewhere."
“I’m fine where I am thanks. And I’m damn good at my job. ”
“Then do it.” His eyes flicked harshly up at you.
“Excuse me?”
“Your job. Do it since you’re so damn good at it.” He didn’t break eye contact as he leaned back in the couch, slinging his arms up on the back of it.
“For you?” You despised the way heat was creeping up your neck and that your stomach was fluttering. He was only saying it to trip you up or to spite your choice. It wasn’t because he actually wanted you to dance for him.
“Is there anybody else here?” He looked from side to side, a wry smirk settling on his face.
You scowled at him. “You couldn’t afford me.”
He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and produced $50.
You laughed. “I’m not your usual county road stripper, no offense to those women, but here, we have standards for our clients.”
Dean pulled out five one hundred dollar bills and set it on the low table in front of him. “My bad. How’s this, princess?”
You fought the shiver that ran up your spine at being called a pet name. He was playing a game of chicken with the belief you would be the one to back down.
But you were in control. This was your space. How dare he intrude with his unwanted opinion? How dare he try to make you uncomfortable in a place you loved?
It was your turn to make him uncomfortable by playing along. Just a little at least.
“Better,” you purred and removed the hoodie. Exposing your skin to him. “But if you want this,” you motioned to your bra, “to come off, it’ll cost you extra.”
He was silent now, unable to speak. His throat had started to feel dry and a sip of his drink didn't even help.
You approached the pole on the slightly elevated on a platform, a cold look in your eye and a twisted smile on your face. “You know?"
Dean’s eyes tracked your movement.
"I still have nightmares about the vamp nest. Almost 3 years, and I still can't seem to shake it."
“Do normally talk during your performance?” Dean drawled, trying to maintain the illusion of withdrawn. You ignored him and continued on.
“What's even better about it. Back then, when you were still around, the nightmare played out how it actually happened." You absentmindedly pirouetted around the pole. The cold metal soothing under your hot palms. "Now..." You slid down with your back to the pole, hands held above your head.
"Well now, you never show up. I die every time and it feels so real." You said stretching onto your stomach first, your ass following slowly behind. “I think it's real."
His eyes followed your every move, torn between entranced at your slow fluid movements and upset.
"And that's not even the worst part. Death? No big deal. No, Dean Winchester didn’t even bother to attend my funeral. The man who claimed he would protect me and always be there for me, couldn't be assed to say goodbye. He went off to play house and just forgot about my existence.” You came to stop in front of him, kneeling at his feet and scowling up at him.
“Which got me thinking, if I died, would you come to my funeral? Would you even care?"
You plucked the whiskey glass from his hand and downed it in a single gulp. Placed it back in his hand before petting his leg patronizingly and getting back on your feet.
“It seems as if I'm the only one who came out scathed. Good bye, Dean.”
In an instant Dean dropped his facade and his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice strained. "I only did—“
"What you thought best for me? Cool. Thanks for letting me have a say about my own feelings." You quipped, shaking his grip away.
"I had just lost Sam,” Dean defended himself. "And I thought letting you go would save you from his fate too."
“You didn't even care to check in on me,” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from wrapping your arms around yourself. "I called every single burner cell number I had. Straight to voicemail." You flushed, feeling so pitiful. "I left a message every time, hoping that at some point you'd turn them back on. So please don't listen to those if you ever do.”
"I got rid of them at the first gas station. I called Bobby when I go settled in and gave him my new number. If something had happened, he would have reached out." You looked relieved at this. Dean didn't know why he lied about the phones. To spare her from the embarrassment of knowing the messages still existed. Or the fact Dean felt guilty he had kept the phones, but never bothered to see if she needed him for something. Or the fact that he was going to pull out the box of phones as soon as they got back to the motel and listen to every single message to make sure nothing terrible had happened.
”Happy hunting, Dean. Glad you and Sam are back at it, together."
“I can't believe I 'm saying this. But we came to ask you to join us. We need you.”
“I’ve got enough going on here. Fourth of July is weirdly busy. I'll make enough money to pay off my truck that night."
"A truck?" Dean shook his head. "Not the point. Y/N, we need your help."
"No. Do I need to spell it out?” You felt a rush of elation to be the one holding the cards finally. But a part of you, that part that would always love Dean and do anything for him, was begging you to jump at this opportunity. That maybe this time you could convince Dean to love you.
You desperately shoved that girl back in her grave.
“Seriously? For what reason?”” Dean objected.
"I don't know. This idiot told me I should stay out of this and do something else with my life. And you know what? Today I feel inclined to listen to him."
Dean's nostrils flared. Not happy to have his own words thrown back in his face.
"Sam says you're still hunting."
"Yeah, salt and burn cases locally. Maybe investigating some demon rumors if I have the time. But then I pass those off to other hunters if I turn up anything,” you shrugged. "Nothing intense."
"So you'll work with other hunters, but not me and Sam!?” Dean was pissed.
"Fuck off, Dean. You wanted me to break ties with this life and you. Don't expect me to drop everything I've built for myself without you. You wanted this. You can't just come back like this. Wanting me to be the opposite of what you abandoned me over."
There was a knock in the doorway. Sam stood filling it. His eyes flickered between the two of you.
"Everything okay?"
“Yep.” You snatched back up your sweatshirt and threw it back on. “Just heading out actually. Stay safe boys and keep me out of this." You shouldered Sam and didn't take a glance back.
"That looks like it went well,” Sam said sordidly. “What did you say that pissed her off so bad?"
"Shut it." Dean also shouldered Sam and stalked back out to Baby.
"Shit,” Sam murmured to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have left you two to figure it out. They needed your help, and it appeared Dean had made it even harder to convince you.
Granted Sam had been the first one to light that fire.
* * * *
Dean stared down it the cardboard box of various cellphones. He didn't know where to start. So he figured it was best to start with his main phone and plugged it into the charger that went into the cigarette lighter.
With trembling hands, he opened the voicemail box once it gained an ounce of charge. There were eleven voicemails. The first few were gut wrenching to hear. You mostly asked what you did wrong. Begging him to come back. That you didn't know what to do. Slowly you started to sound more conversationalist asking if Dean could look at something in John's journal for you. Bobby didn't have any books on whatever you were tracking for a hunter. Then asking if you could just have the journal if Dean wasn't going to use it, but you totally understood if he said no as it was his dead father's Journal.
Then how you should have been keeping your own journal, and how you should have have just made copies of John's to transcribe. Maybe Dean could possibly make a photocopy of it and mail it to Bobby's if Dean had the the time.
Then had Dean seen Cas lately? He showed up on your last hunt and he was acting super weird. At least more weird, as far as Cas goes.
Voicemail nine.
"Hey,” your voice was shaking. "It's probably nothing. I didn't know who else to talk to this about. And I'm too scared of what the answer may be. It's obvious you aren't checking any of your phones, or you decided not to call me back. If so, ouch." You gave a bitter laugh through a thick voice. Dean could tell you had been crying.
"Because if the answer is yes, I don't know what to do. I'm probably just stressed though, so I shouldn't be worrying myself or you. But..." a long pause follow by a deep breath, Dean's hand clutched the steering wheel. "I'm late, Dean. Like really late. Like a month. And I can’t find the guts to test. So... yeah."
* click *
Dean's stomach twisted, oh god. He couldn't make the next voicemail play fast enough.
It was just tears and sniffles at first, then a few shaky breaths. "So probably my worst nightmare, um, I made myself go to a clinic.” You paused for a breath. “So, I'm fucked. And since you didn't call me back after the last voicemail you are either not listening to them or you don't care. If so, good for you I guess. Enjoy life. But I thought I should make an attempt at telling you, slightly therapeutic and slightly so you can't say I didn't try to tell you if you ever see me again. But I'm pregnant Dean. A whole 10 weeks. You're the dad, if that wasn't clear. So, if you ever hear this, I shared this milestone with you. Bye Dean."
* click *
The burger and fries Dean had anxiously mowed down worked it's way back up. He at least had the thought to lean outside of Baby.
The last message there was silence to start.
“Hey Dean,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “so, uh, don't worry about me if you ever listen to this mortifying and depressive series. Our situation," he could almost hear her grit her teeth, "is no longer a situation."
You gave small hiccup. “A few days ago, I started bleeding. And... when I went in there was no heartbeat. Apparently stopped growing at 13 weeks. The doctors say it's common and nothing was my fault. I wish I could believe them, but my body has been through hell since this began. A whole apocalypse prevention.”
You gave a hysterical laugh. "And it’s so dumb, but I had just begun to accept it. Maybe even look forward to it. But it's over now and I should probably just stop calling. You have your life. I have no reason to care anymore. Good bye, Dean. I hope you're happy." And you meant it.
Dean knew you didn't say it in a way that was accusatory or trying to make him feel guilty. you truly wanted him to be happy above all else.
And it made Dean ashamed and unsure. Unsure of what to say or do for you. He had inflicted more damage than he had intended. He had just wanted to do enough for you to move on from him. Instead, he has left you vulnerable and carrying his child alone. Dean picked up his current phone, unable to look at the picture of Lisa on his screen. The guilt gnawed through him.
The phone made an outgoing call.
"Hey Bobby, I need an address."
Bobby was none too happy about this. "Dean, leave Y/N alone. You've given that girl enough grief for a lifetime. You're like a son to me, but Y/N is also my family.”
"I know, I did her wrong but I need to see her. Now."
"It is three in the morning Dean. What could possibly be so important that you couldn't wait for me to ask Y/N if she wants to speak with you?"
Dean faltered, he didn't know what to say that wouldn't result in Bobby skinning him. While he loved Dean, he loved you just as much and felt five times more protective at that.
"You know?" Bobby grunted.
"Know what?" Dean asked for clarification.
"Don't play stupid with me boy. The fact that you saw fit to share your genes with Y/N. Many times from what I could unfortunately glean from when I grilled her about it."
"You know?" It was Dean's turn to ask, getting equally as angry as Bobby. "And you never told me?”
"I only know because I had to put her in the hospital, Dean. And then it was like pulling teeth trying to figure out who did this to her."
"Hospital? "
“So you don't know!” Bobby said flatly.
"I know that she lost—” Dean was unable to finish the sentence.
"And would have died had she not been living with me."
"What?”
"She was catatonic and bleeding like a hellhound got to her. She was in the hospital for weeks, Dean. Blood transfusions and then a nice long padded wall stay."
“I—I,” Dean stammered. "I'm sorry. For not being here."
"Don't apologize to me you, idgit.”
"I wouldn't have to do so right now If you just called me when you found out. I would have came straight away. You had my new number, Bobby."
"And then what, Dean? Have you leave her again? Go back to your apple pie life? Which you deserve. But not at the expense of the woman who has been in your corner for years. And for some god damned reason loved you unconditionally even though you gave nothing in return," Bobby spat.
‘’I don't know what I would have done,” Dean admitted.
"And I wasn't going to risk your uncertainty."
"Please, Bobby. I need to talk to her about this,” Dean pleaded, his voice breaking.
"She hasn't changed her phone number. Let her decide if she wants to see you."
* click *
That was how Dean found himself standing outside your apartment at four in the morning, too nervous to knock.
He had texted you: I need to talk with you in person. I'm sorry for earlier. Please let me come talk to you.
It had taken fifteen minutes, but Dean got an address back for an apartment in downtown Sioux Falls.
Followed by a text telling him to bring something strong.
Dean was more than happy to oblige. He would need a drink too. A bottle of whiskey was tucked in the crook of his arm when he finally had the courage to knock
You cracked the door and he slowly stepped in, taking in your small apartment. Small, but not rundown. It was quite quaint and old, but fit you.
Dean was overcome with your scent. It had been so long since he had been around it. His body basically sighed in relief.
You stood guarded, a bathrobe tightly tied around you and hair still wet.
He could smell the shampoo you always used. Mint and lavender. Dean couldn't even count the amount of times he had laid in the motel while you showered just to let the smell intoxicate him. The closest to a spa treatment he would probably ever get.
“What’s so important you had to come in person?” You rose an eyebrow as you shut the door behind him.
“To be fair, I didn’t even think you would answer a phone call,” Dean admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“You’re not wrong there,” you murmured.
Dean held out the whiskey bottle to you, a peace offering. You took it and went into the kitchen to procure a pair of whiskey glasses. He settled into your couch.
“You’re still underage,” Dean remarked more to himself than to you. But it didn’t stop you from glaring at him when you handed him his glass.
“For that, I am keeping the bottle. Thanks for bringing a good one.” You settled onto the opposite side of the couch. Feeling more at ease than you would have liked.
Hadn’t you just been arguing a handful of hours ago? You were still pissed at him, yet, you felt soft looking at him in your little apartment. In the first space you had ever built for yourself.
“I’d have been an asshole to bring you the cheap stuff,” he teased, but quickly frowned when he assessed you in your corner of the couch.
“What?”
“I lied,” Dean’s voice was tense. “I’m sorry, and I lied.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “About what?”
He stared back down into his glass before gulping it down and pouring himself some more.
“Dean?” You nudged him with your foot and his hand came to rest hesitantly on your ankle.
“The, uh,” he cleared his throat, “the phones. I still had all the phones. All the voicemails.”
The air rushed out of your lungs. The ache in your chest that had been slumbering now viciously awake and clawing its way back to the surface.
Your whiskey was gone in an instant, and then the glass was filled again.
“Oh,” was all you could manage to say. If you said anything else, you would probably cry and you swore to yourself you were not going to cry in front of him again.
“I—I’m sorry you lost—” Dean started.
“Don’t,” you hissed, pulling your leg out from under his grasp. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If I had kept my phone on me, I would have come.” He hadn’t been sure earlier, but seeing you now he was sure.
You laughed bitterly. “And than what Dean? Go right back to Lisa? What would you have even told her? Oh, sorry babe, I knocked up some 19 year old, but don’t worry, she isn’t pregnant anymore. I just have to go comfort her and I’ll be back in like a week?”
“Y/N,” Dean set his glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to your side of the couch, “you’re not just some 19 year old.”
“Yeah, I’m 20 now,” you snorted into your glass and finished it off. You went to fill it up again, but Dean snatched the glass from your hand and put it next to his.
“Is that how you see yourself with me? As just somebody?”
You weren’t used to him being this open, and it made your chest hurt and it wanted nothing more then to put more walls up. The worst thing to happen to you would be you baring your soul to him again for him to just repeat history.
The only thing you could do was look away.
“Y/N, I care about you. A lot. More than someone should in our line of work,” Dean admitted.
You felt your chin start to tremble.
“And what we had was—” he cleared his throat, “is complicated.”
You shook your head up at the ceiling. Tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes.
“I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m an ass for doing it to you. But you have to understand I’ve spent a majority of our time knowing each other trying to get you out of hunting. It seemed the easiest way to get you to move on. And I promised Sam I would leave hunting behind and go back to Lisa.”
You launched off the couch, your chest was too tight sitting still. Were the walls closing in around you? “Fuck Sam! Honestly! I should have known he had a hand in it when he warned me you would hurt me.”
“He was looking out for you too.”
You scoffed. “When do my feelings about me and you get factored in, huh? Both of you were quote unquote looking out for me, and look where that got me. Abandoned and bleeding out with a dead baby inside of me.”
Dean flinched. The tears blurred your vision now.
“I had nobody. I didn’t have any friends to lean on. I left them and normalcy behind nearly three years ago. Never had I regretted following you and Sam into the fire until that moment. And I was so mad at myself for getting myself in that situation and then believing I could make the best of it before it was ripped away.”
You paced the living room, words long unspoken bubbling out of your mouth. Hot tears now streaming down your face.
“I was terrified, but a part of me started to be happy. Hopeful even. I was going to take your advice and get out of hunting for the sake of our child. I was going to break the cycle. If you got to go live a normal life, why the hell shouldn’t I? As a single mom sure, but I could do it. I got a job at the coffee shop again. I was going to make it work, Dean. Whatever it took. And then—” you gasped for air, “it didn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N, so so sorry,” Dean approached you cautiously, as if you were a wild animal ready to run if spooked.
“I-I gave up in that moment,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “When I found out, I just became numb. It felt like I had nothing left and nothing mattered anymore. If it weren’t for Bobby finding me, I would have laid there and let myself die because I didn’t matter.”
The lump in Dean’s throat became lead and it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over his head.
“You do matter!” He gripped your shoulders and his watering eyes bore into yours. “You matter to Bobby. You matter to Sam. To Cas. And most of all you matter to me.”
A small part of yourself lightened at the confirmation and the doubt that had always existed since you began whatever it was you had with Dean lifted as he pulled you to his chest and held you there.
The dam you had been trying to patch for months finally broke and you sobbed uncontrollably into him. The pair of you crashed onto the floor. Dean rocked and his hand brushed away the hair plastered to your face from the tears.
That was how you fell asleep. When you woke up you were tucked into your bed. But he was still there, snoring on your couch. And your chest ached knowing you were going to have to let him go.
He wasn’t yours to keep and it would hurt too much to be beside him knowing his heart belonged to someone else.
****
Early February 2016 - 24 years old
11.12 Don’t You Forget About Me
The sight of Baby had your heart pounding against your rib cage pairing dangerously with the ball of anxiety in your stomach. You put the truck in park and glanced in the back seat. MJ stared back at you in her mirror and gave a gummy smile when she caught your eye.
”Daddy's here,” you said with a shaky breath. "The time is now."
You kept the calm appearance for her sake. If she hadn’t been in the truck with you, you would probably be cursing for the argument to come. The last major argument you had had was about him leaving you. Now the tables had turned and you had done something worse.
And Jodi was going to take some of blame for going along with your wishes.
You went to grab the keys from the ignition and you hesitated. What was stopping you from taking a little vacation with MJ?
You could text Claire to text you when the coast was clear.
But your bank account wouldn't get you far. You had just started back at Paradise City, but you were just a bartender now. You had a long way to get back into shape to perform like you had before. Tank was ready for you to go out on the floor as is, but your core muscles still hadn’t fully come back together six months postpartum. You could barely hoist yourself up the pole.
Also, the diaper bag only had enough supplies for a day and MJ was just starting solids. Not to mention, where would she sleep?
"Fuck,” you murmured and finally pulled the keys from the ignition. MJ squawked at your delay. Most definitely ready for dinner.
You weren't sure how to even approach this. Knock? That way Jody answers the door?
You stood frozen on the doorstep, MJ’s car seat getting heavier by the second and the cold seeping through your coat. The irritated squawk of a now cold and hungry MJ had you just entering the house like you lived there. Well, you did live there. It was your home.
It was a relief when the living room was empty. You could hear the clinking of silverware in the dining room.
Claire rushed into the living room looking panicked. "I texted you. Y/N, holy fuck."
You hadn't noticed the notification. Checking now, you saw that Claire had warned you during your swim lessons with MJ.
"They're distracted, let's sneak you back out." Claire started to pull MJ’s carseat out of your hands.
You opened your mouth to protest but the sound of Dean's voice coming close sucked the air out of your lungs and rooted you to the spot. You couldn’t have even moved if you tried.
"Hey Claire, about this—“ Dean abruptly halted in the living room. His eyes blinked rapidly. Anger, relief, and happiness all warred on his face.
Relief and happiness won out first because you were swept into his arms. His face buried in your hair as he held you tighter than he had in a long time.
You had never been the one to leave him before. At least, abruptly with no explanation or a goodbye.
He could have thought you were dead and that sent a wave of guilt through you.
He pushed you back at arms length, assessing every inch of you.
“Where have—?” he choked out before pulling you back into another bone crushing hug. “You're okay?"
“Yeah, Dean. I’m okay.” You clung tightly to the calm before the storm. You breathed in the familiar leather, outdoors, and soap before he would inevitably distance himself from you.
Jody, Sam, and Alex had joined the crowd in the living room. Both Jody and Alex were on edge and looked to Claire holding the car seat. Dean had been too distracted by you to notice, but Sam clocked it immediately. His eyebrows had furrowed and his forehead creased.
And as if on queue, the hungry infant protested at being home and not promptly put in her high chair. Dean's eyes drifted over your shoulder and you took a deep breath. Claire gave you an apologetic look, but you weren't mad. It was bound to happen. Your paths always crossed, even when actively avoiding each other.
"Nanny duty?" Dean rose any eyebrow at Claire. “At this hour?"
You gave Claire a perplexed look. Was that the cover for all the baby items littering the house?
"Yeah, there was an emergency,” Claire tried to keep up the lie. She took MJ out of her car seat, trying to sooth the hungry baby.
The attempt was short lived as MJ outstretched her arms to you and whined.
Dean looked down at you confused as he tried to process you taking her into your arms.
He opened his mouth, but you spoke before he had the chance.
"I know I have a lot to explain and apologize for." You took a deep breath. "But if she doesn't eat she will scream bloody murder. As long as there is no yelling, I will entertain questions." You didn't look to either the men and beelined to the kitchen.
MJ was set down and given some crackers while you prepped her dinner. You pointedly ignored the boys when they came in. Jody followed shortly after, but Alex and Claire hung back.
In the corner of your eye you could just make out Dean looking back and forth between you and MJ. The question was heavy in the air.
“You've been here this whole time?" Sam was the first to break the silence. The person with the least to do with this turn of events.
"Drove straight here,” you said as light hearted as you could.
"And you didn't tell us because?" Dean narrowed his yes in on Jody. He was fighting to maintain a normal volume.
"I asked her not to,” you defended her. “Place no blame one her, please. She asked me to call. Too many times to count."
"You couldn't have at least sent us any indication that you were safe?" Dean took a seat next to MJ, making your heart clench as she regarded him in person for the first time.
To your relief she was quick to accept him and reach a cracker-crumbed hand out to him.
All the effort of trying to establish Dean was "Dada" seemed to pay off.
“You left because of her?" Dean asked, his voice thick.
"Yes." You set her plate in front of her and she quickly squished the avocado and banana in her tiny hands before mashing them into her mouth.
“The less people who knew, the safer she was."
“How old is she?" Sam wondered, trying take a step towards the one question burning in both his and Dean's mind.
"Just over six months." Your hand shook as you brushed a hand through what little hair she had.
"She nearly had MJ here at the house. It took me ages to convince her to go to the hospital,” Jody mused.
"MJ?” the boys echoed.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, uh, that’s her nickname.” You made eye contact with Dean. "Mary Jude is her full name.” That answered their question.
Sam while not surprised, was still in shock. Dean had froze and paled a few shades at the confirmation. As if there was a small part of him that had doubts about your unwavering devotion to him.
He rubbed his face vigorously and directed a watery smile at MJ. "Hey MJ.”
He held out a hand to her, she latched on with her non dominant hand, and continued stuffing her face with her dinner.
If you could take a picture with your mind, it was this moment you wished you could the most. It was akin to a parent laying eyes on the newly birthed baby for the first time.
The lump in your throat grew when you felt the next wave of guilt. He could have been there. He could have felt the awe of her first breaths in the world. And even though Dean had experienced a lifetime of guts and gore, something told you he may have been a little light headed at the horror of you giving birth. Claire was for sure scarred into not having kids possibly ever.
“I’m going to shower quick,” you murmured to Jody, “Do you mind—?”
“Of course, take your time.” Jody nodded.
“We were at a mommy and me swim class,” you explained lamely. “And pregnancy made me ridiculously sensitive to chlorine so I have to rinse off as soon as possible.”
Dean watched you intently. You were sure he was trying to figure out how pissed off he was with you. You could only hope that MJ being a healthy and happy baby would be enough to tamp down the level.
You ducked out of the kitchen and took a long shower. Not because you were trying to delay the inevitable, but it was hair wash night. And you realized Dean had not seen you in 10 months and your body was not the same as it had once been.
You stared into the mirror before kicking yourself for reverting back to a self-conscious teenager worried about what Dean thought. Which was always stupid because hunting could be gross at times. He had seen you at your worst and this was not your worst.
Sure, you were a bit softer and curvier, with a handful of stretch marks, but it’s not like he’d be seeing you that up close and personal, right?
Then you had to kick yourself again because your thoughts went into the gutter. But it was hard not to. You had been celibate for 10 months. Your longest dry spell since you were 19. And you had missed out on indulging your raging pregnancy hormones. It was rather unfortunate.
“Stop.” You pointed at yourself in the mirror, face flushed and sighed. It was best to face the music.
When you got out you could hear Jody cooing at MJ in the other bathroom followed by splashing. You padded over to her, your heart full.
Jody was your savior and the closest thing you had to a mother these days. You didn’t know what you would have done without her.
“You didn’t have to give her a bath Jody, but thank you.”
“Nonsense, she’s ready for bed anyway. Figured I’d get the routine started for you,” Jody looked over her shoulder at you and smirked. “What, no nursing pajamas tonight?”
Dammit. She’d noticed. She would.
“It unbuttons, it works,” you defended, heat creeping up to your face. It’s not like you were wearing a sexy silk number, which you definitely had stashed in your old duffel bag under your bed, it was just a simple, button down, cotton pajama set without the flap for nursing.
“Sure, dear.” Jody plucked MJ out of the bath and put her in your towel covered arms.
“Sue me,” you muttered.
“He went out for a drive right after you went to shower,” Jody informed.
You hummed in response and brought MJ back to your shared bedroom. Dean going for a drive was for the best.
Jody followed behind, watching you closely as you went through the steps of MJ’s routine.
“Do you want me to have him comeback tomorrow after he’s had the night to cool off?” Jody offered.
“No, no. I’ll be fine and I deserve whatever I have coming.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. He has the right to be upset, but it was a sound judgment. Now that the mark is gone, maybe he’ll have a bit more time.”
“Something tells me there are bigger things going on that I don’t know about,” you countered.
Jody looked slightly guilty.
“There is,” you sighed. “And you haven’t thought to tell me?”
“I’m trying to keep you out of it. Think of it as me unilaterally making a decision that Dean would have wanted. Really, we need to keep you out of it. We’ve flown you and MJ low enough under the radar. We should keep it that way.”
“He’d agree,” you nodded. “I agree.” You looked down to the precious infant who stared up in awe of you with her father’s eyes. “Whatever it takes for her.”
****
A soft knock came to your bedroom door as you nursed MJ to sleep.
“Come in.”
Your heart skipped a beat as Dean filled the doorway, though looking a bit skittish.
“Do you want me—uh,” he cleared his throat and looked to the ceiling, “wait for you to finish?”
You rolled your eyes. “You can barely even see anything past her big head, which she got from you. Thanks for that, and you’ve seen it all anyway.”
It was easy to make the jokes and push the serious conversation off.
“Touche.” Dean shut the door behind him and sat on your bed adjacent to where you sat on the old rocking chair.
“I’m sorry.” You ripped the bandaid off. “Not for all of it, but for sure for leaving the way I did.”
His jaw tensed as he watched MJ contentedly play with the collar of your pajamas as she ate.
“I knew you’d worry about me, but I didn’t want you to have to worry about the two of us. Or risk our enemies and not so trustworthy allies finding out about her.”
Dean looked up and met your gaze. “I understand, Y/N.”
You were stunned. You weren’t met with anger like you had expected.
“Does that mean I’m happy about it? Hell no, but I get it.” He reached out and brushed his thumb over your cheekbone. “And I was pissed at first, but then I remembered what you went through last time without me.”
Your throat tightened.
“So, I think we’re even.” His eyes softened. “I will not hold this against you. I only ask for no more secrets and no more disappearing acts.”
“I can do that,” you said, your voice cracking.
“And I will too. Open line of communication and total honesty.”
You chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done to Dean Winchester?”
He shook his head, almost in disbelief himself. “It must be the dad coming out in me.”
“It suits you,” you whispered, grabbing his hand.
“I want to be involved as much as I safely can. There may be weeks at a time that I don’t reach out, but I promise to always do my best to come back to you two.”
Your nodded, not trusting your voice. He didn’t just promise to come back for your daughter, but you as well. It wasn’t I love you, but it felt the closest thing to it.
you’ll be able to hold it in your hands, feel the weight of it - each chapter, each page, each word that you so lovingly crafted. you’ll be able to watch each scene, something you built and tended and know most intimately, unfold beneath your hands again with every turn of the page. you’ll be able to run your thumb down the spine of the book and feel the shape of your name pressed into the side, because this is yours.
so keep writing. because your novel is just waiting for you to bring it into existence.
Written for @waywardsons-imagines Valentine’s Day Challenge
An AU where there are no things that go “bump” in the night and Dean Winchester has a happy life.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Language, sexual innuendo, fluff
Words: 1,661
Prompt: “How’s the meeting?”// “I want to stab everyone.” // “Don’t get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven.” // “I love you for enabling me.” // “Love you too.”
I’m personally not a big AU person, but this? This is SOOOOOO ADORABLE!!! <3 <3 <3
I love the interaction with the daughter, and how they chose her name lol
Thank you! ❤️❤️ I didn’t plan for it to be an AU, but I recently rewatched “What Is and What Should Never Be” and wanted to give Dean a happy life for once. Thanks again for hosting this challenge!
Written for @waywardsons-imagines Valentine’s Day Challenge
An AU where there are no things that go “bump” in the night and Dean Winchester has a happy life.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Language, sexual innuendo, fluff
Words: 1,661
Prompt: “How’s the meeting?”// “I want to stab everyone.” // “Don’t get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven.” // “I love you for enabling me.” // “Love you too.”
It was an unusually warm February day, but Dean Winchester had no complaints. It meant he could open the garage doors and let some fresh air in while he tinkered on a ’69 Mustang. It also meant he could set loose two 5-year-olds and German Shepherd in the driveway where he could see them, but they wouldn’t get in his way.
“When I’m 16, do I get Baby?” The voice of your 9-year-old daughter, Alice, piped up from above the hood.
Dean couldn’t help the hearty laugh that escaped his throat and he leaned out of the Mustang to meet the pouting face of Alice. “You’re weren’t joking?”
She sat up straight in her stool and held her shoulders back. “Why would I be joking?”
“Why would you expect to get Baby?”
“You get a car for your sixteenth birthday, right?”
“That’s debatable. If you have your license and you’ve earned it, possibly.”
“Well, you don’t use Baby much.” Alice motioned to the black Impala on the other side of the garage, glinting from a fresh wax for tonight.
“Your point?”
“I could put her to good use.”
“Yeah, no.” Dean closed the hood of the Mustang, deciding to be done for the day. “You’ll be getting an old, reliable car that won’t break my heart if you crash it. You’re getting a bumper car, baby-girl. Take it or leave it.”
“Will I at least get to drive her?” The mirror of Dean’s own eyes narrowed in on him and he could admit to himself it was slightly unnerving. While she had his eyes, everything else about her was you, and he was all too familiar with that look. However, it wasn’t from you, so he was in the clear.
Dean laughed again. “In 20 years.”
“Unfair—”
“I didn’t even let your mother drive it for 5 years, and she had 20 years on you.”
“But—” Alice was cut off by the sound of AC/DC’s Shook Me All Night Long in Dean’s back pocket.
He didn’t need to check the caller ID, it was your ringtone, but he always found himself pausing to admire the photo of you under the words “The Wife.” You were standing on the beach, grinning from ear to ear, and hair tousled from the wind and sea salt of the ocean as you held all the girls. Alice was on your back and you had a twin on each hip.
“Hey, what’s up?” Dean leaned against the car and looked to the twins to see them happily racing their bikes on the track they had drawn in chalk. Renegade followed behind them, tail swishing with every stride.
“I have bad news, but good news.” Your voice was calm, so Dean wasn’t concerned.
“Okay, shoot.”
“Our babysitter canceled, she got mono.”
“Son of a bitch—”
“Dad! Swear jar!” Alice triumphantly held out her hand, and Dean dug his wallet out and handed her dollar. She stuffed it into the already full, glass jug.
“Way to go,” you chuckled. “But our plans aren’t ruined. Claire and I had lunch—”
“No—”
“Dean—”
“Last time Claire babysat we came home to a 9-year-old going on 21.”
“Alice starts middle school next year, we better get used to it. Besides, I made Claire promise to leave the makeup at home this time and she offered to babysit out of the kindness of her heart.”
“You took her to that fancy steakhouse, didn’t you?”
“And I told her she could order take out for her and the kids.”
Dean grunted, accepting the fact Claire was going to be in charge. He hoped this time she didn’t teach the girls how to have more attitude. “How’s the meeting?” Dean knew you had been stressing over work for the past week, it was part of the reason he was keen to have a fun night. That, and it was the 10-year anniversary of your first date.
“I want to stab everyone.” Dean could feel your eyes roll into the back of your head through the phone.
“Don’t get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven.”
“I love you for enabling me.”
“Love you too.”
“Ugh, Johnson is waving me back in. I will meet you at the restaurant. Give my love to the girls. Love you again.”
“Love you more.”
* * * * * * * * *
Dean stood outside the Italian restaurant that you loved for the handmade pasta, something that was hard to come by in Lawrence, Kansas. He shifted on his feet, checking his watch. It was five minutes to seven.
There was a tap on Dean’s shoulder and he whirled to come face to face with you. You had to keep from throwing yourself at him. Dean in tight, grey dress pants was a rare sight and it had you all sorts of riled up. “Excuse me, I’m looking for my husband. I can’t seem to find him. He’s usually sporting a canvas jacket and plaid, have you seen him anywhere?”
“I’m sorry, haven’t seen him. He sounds like a handsome guy though, it’s a shame he isn’t here,” Dean drawled. “May I offer my company?”
You pretended to give it a good thought. “As long as my husband doesn’t find out.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” Dean pulled you in for a lingering kiss. “Now let’s go eat.”
* * * * * * * * *
“This is bullshit!” Dean slammed his fist against the steering wheel. Baby’s headlights illuminated the highway in front of you.
“It’s okay, Dean.”
“No, I can’t believe they lost my reservation. It was going to be perfect.”
“Any night with you is perfect.”
Dean paused and sighed. “I know, but you love that place.”
“And we can go back on my birthday. Besides, I think I have a better idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Grub Off the Griddle. We haven’t been there in ages.”
* * * * * * * * *
“Oh my god, I never thought that not having to share a milkshake would be the most satisfying thing,” you groaned and took another large gulp of the Oreo milkshake.
“I look forward to not having to share my fries and settle any arguments.” Dean watched every single facial expression you made. You were as captivating as you had been on your first date exactly ten years ago.
“There’s a reason we only order take out these days.” You held a spoonful of whip cream out to Dean who gladly accepted it. “How many slices of pie are you going to get?”
“Oh, at least three. For sure.”
The waitress set your food down, and the two of you wasted no time digging into your thick burgers.
“So, you’re never going to believe what our daughter asked me this morning on the way to school?” You smirked.
“Which one?”
“The eldest.”
“Was it the dreaded ‘where do babies come from’ question again? Because I thought we had gotten her to leave that alone for a little while longer.”
“Apparently, her friend Lucy did a presentation on her grandma and about how she’s named after her. Alice wanted to know why we chose her name.”
“And what did you say?” Dean rose an eyebrow.
“That we just liked the name Alice.” You shrugged, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.
“You lied to our daughter?” Dean’s smile mimicked your own.
“How do we tell her that we’re 99% sure she was conceived while listening to an Alice in Chains album, and we named her after that incident?”
“You could have at least said we named her after Alice in Chains, a band we both enjoyed.” Dean pointed his fork at you.
“If she brings it up again, sure. But I have a feeling when she brings it up again, it’s going to be with the question of why we weren’t married when we had her.” The thought of that complicated talk was starting to give you a migraine.
“Simple, because we wanted her so much and from the moment we met on that first date, I knew I wanted to have a family with you.” Dean was serious. It wasn’t an assurance for you. That Valentine’s Day ten years ago meant everything to him. You both had bad breakups prior and the date was forced between your mothers. But as the saying goes, mother knows best. Dean knew the moment you fawned over Baby and his classic rock collection that it was right.
“Maybe not as quick as we did though.”
“And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Dean reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I know it’s been said before, many times. But even though everything happened so fast between us, I don’t regret a single choice we made.”
Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, because no matter how many years went by those memories of feeling so scared and vulnerable never went away. You and Dean had been together barely three months when you found out you were pregnant with Alice. Dean panicked when you had told him, but he wasn’t angry like you thought he might get. No, he stuck by your side and the further along you got, the more excited he was.
The day you found out you were having a daughter was the first time you had ever seen him cry. He cried again at all your children’s births, your wedding, and when you two got into a bad car accident two years after Alice was born. You had been pregnant at the time when you got t-boned on the passenger side and you barely escaped with your own life. Dean had only sustained a concussion and broken collar bone. The only saving grace was that Alice had been with John and Mary that night.
The day Dean Winchester crashed into your life, something changed. A shift. An alignment. Call it what you may. He was everything. Strong, handsome, and a skilled hunter. You were helpless about the man 12 years your senior. He left as quickly as you met him, but it wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths. Far from it. Dean Winchester trusted you, and he would bring you pain, life, heartache, and euphoria in return.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, language, sad stuff?, Age gap (legal), references to a sexual relationship
Words: 1,258
June 2010 – Days away from 19 years old
5.22 Swan Song
Dean’s dead eyes stared out onto the road. The urge to reach out and try to offer a comforting touch was prominent. Your hands clenched together, you knew that he didn’t want that. He wouldn’t even want to speak either.
Dean had not uttered a word since you had driven away. Sam was gone. The empty space in the Impala was impossible to ignore. Tears began to trickle down your cheeks once again and you muffled a sob with the back of your hand. Dean’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t reach out, and you didn’t expect him to. He had just lost his brother, his best friend.
When Dean pulled up to Bobby’s his knuckles were white clenched around the steering wheel. A troubled look settled on his face, and your stomach lurched.
“Y/N—” Dean’s voice was hoarse but calculated.
“No,” you croaked, finally reaching out to him. He didn’t even turn to look at you. “Please.”
“You’re only 18. You have so much to do still. Normal things like college and even friends.”
“But—”
Dean got out of the car, going straight for the trunk. You scrambled out of baby to see him grab your duffle, your tears now blinding you. “Parties,” he continued. “Fall in love a few times.”
“I don’t want to fall in love.”
“Or don’t, it’s all up to you.” Dean shouldered your duffle. “The world is your oyster.”
I don’t want to because I am already in love with you, Dean.” You felt pathetic, but you had no other choice but to tell him. This was your last chance.
Dean smiled sadly, reaching out to wipe your tears. “That’s just you clinging to your hunter life. I’m a piece of that and you have to let me go.”
You shook your head. “No! I’ve loved you since you saved me from the vamp nest. And every day I love you even more.”
“You’re too young—”
Your lips curled and snarled ripped through your throat. “Y/N, we can’t. You’re only 18. Y/N, we have to stop this. It’s not right, you’re just a kid.” You gasped for lungful air, but it had somehow gotten harder to breathe. Dean winced at the mimic of his voice. “Well Dean, you still fucked me anyway. And I kept hoping, like an idiot, that someday it would be more than sex for you. But you, Dean Winchester, are afraid of anybody in that close.”
“I’m going back to Lisa, Y/N.” His words twisted a knife into your gut.
“What?” Your voice was barely audible.
His once warm green eyes were now harsh. Angry. “You heard me.”
“So that’s it? It’s been good knowing you kid, but it’s time for us to part ways? See you maybe never? Have a nice life?” You snatched away your duffle, clutching it to your chest for protection.
“I want you to stay away from life. Live,” Dean growled.
The tears burned, but you couldn’t help it. He had finally hurt you, just like you had been warned. Sam was right. “Avoid my problems and feelings? Got it. You do the same, yeah?”
“Hey—” Dean tried to tug you to him, but you reeled back. He was a fire and he could only burn you more.
“Don’t touch me!” You tried to pull up your defenses, but you were so exhausted.
“No matter what you say. No matter how you fall apart in front of me, it won’t make me any more inclined to stay. You’re a child and we would never work.” Dean inserted the last dagger and without another word, he got in the Impala and sped away.
Your legs gave out as baby blinked out of the horizon. A piece of yourself gone with Dean. You cried for Sam and you cried because you were never going to be enough for Dean.
****
April 2015 – 23 years old
Shortly after 10.20 Angel Heart
“Does anybody like mashed meat pile—” Claire was cut off by the doorbell being run in a frantic manner.
“Stay here.” Jody cautiously made her way to the door and peeked through the curtain. She flung the door open.
There you stood, soaking wet, crying in the rain.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are the boys okay?” Jody ushered you inside.
“Yeah, they’re fine,” You choked. “I-I just got myself in a situation and I need help. And you’re the only person I can trust.”
“Claire, get me some towels! Alex, make some tea!” She hurried you over to the couch and took you in her arms for a few seconds. The comfort of her motherly embrace only broke you more. “Shhhh, Y/N, I need you to breathe.”
Claire dashed in, towels in hands, and froze. “Y/N?” Claire had seen you a few weeks ago and you seemed fine then.
Jody motioned her over and began draping towels around your trembling form. Claire being ever so thoughtful, began to work on drying your hair.
“Y/N?” Alex followed with the tea, and she quickly offered it to you. Did you really look bad? If you had to guess, yes. Most likely your lips were blue.
“I don’t want to rush you, but what made you come all the way here from Kansas, sweetheart?” Jody held your face in her hands, and she tried to search your eyes for answers. “If the boys are okay, what could possibly have you this shaken up?”
Jody had seen you take down a werewolf within arm’s reach without batting an eye. She had thought the years of hunting with the boys had almost desensitized you to almost everything.
“I—I fucked up. Bad.” Your voice shook, but the tears had begun to subside. “Dean is going to be so angry if he ever finds out.”
“Oh, no, Y/N, please tell me you didn’t sell—”
“No, I didn’t sell my soul. This is—uh—not hunting related. Only Dean related.” You grimaced and took a sip of your tea. Letting the soothing taste of peppermint spread across your tongue.
“Only Dean related?” Jody echoed, it wasn’t a big clue to her.
“Dean and I are, um, friends with benefits, for lack of a better term.”
“That I knew. I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I have eyes, and I could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”
“Agreed.” Alex and Claire exchanged looks. They barely knew you and Dean, and even they could tell.
“So, what could you have possibly done that would make you run away from the boys?”
You took a deep breath, leveling your gaze with Jody. You wished Dean could be the first person to tell. “I—I’m pregnant.”
Jody gasped and pulled you into her arms. “And Dean doesn’t know?”
“No, there’s so much on his plate and I didn’t want him to freak out.”
“Don’t you think he’s freaking out that you’re gone?”
“For a little while, but if he knew about the baby he would constantly be worried, and it could get him hurt.” The tears started flowing again.
“Oh Y/N, I think you underestimate the impact you have on Dean. I know he’s going to be worried about you every day. Sam too for that matter. You’re all family. But you’re also my family, and you’re welcome here as long as you’d like.” Jody looked over your shoulder to Alex and Claire. “Your secret is safe with us, right girls?”
The day Dean Winchester crashed into your life, something changed. A shift. An alignment. Call it what you may. He was everything. Strong, handsome, and a skilled hunter. You were helpless about the man 12 years your senior. He left as quickly as you met him, but it wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths. Far from it. Dean Winchester trusted you, and he would bring you pain, life, heartache, and euphoria in return.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, angst, language, sad stuff?, Age gap, sexual innuendos
A/N: This will be a drabble series and will not be in chronological order. The reader is the same reader in each part, but at different stages in her and Dean’s life. It will bounce from the past and future and be guided mostly through song titles/themes. Playlist to be linked soon.
Song inspiration: Gun in My Hand - Dorothy
The day Dean Winchester crashed into your life, something changed. A shift. An alignment. Call it what you may. He was everything. Strong, handsome, and a skilled hunter. You were helpless about the man 12 years your senior. He left as quickly as you met him, but it wouldn’t be the last time you crossed paths. Far from it. Dean Winchester trusted you, and he would bring you pain, life, heartache, and euphoria in return.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warning: Language, pregnancy, age gap (but nothing ever illegal)
“If you find yourself getting your ass kicked by a dead cheerleader in a condemned theater instead of slurping back countless jello shots at Jenny Schmidt’s house party, please seek psychiatric help.”
- A Touch of Death, a novel by me that may never see publication at this rate.
