My Little Captain Bobby Fan.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 12

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

That night, I found myself in Dean's bed. After finishing my bath and changing into my pajamas, I made my way down the hall to his room. He was lying sprawled out across the bed, relaxed in nothing but a black t-shirt and boxer briefs. Taking a steadying breath, I lay down beside him, feeling a little out of my element but strangely comfortable.

Dean wrapped an arm around me, his fingers absentmindedly weaving through my hair. I found myself inching closer, resting my head on his chest, my hand splayed over his stomach, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall as he breathed. Just as I started drifting off, I felt the soft rumble of his laughter under my cheek.

“This is freakin’ weird,” he murmured, half amused, half uncertain.

I yawned, my own voice drowsy. “Tell me about it.”

A silence settled over us, but it was comfortable—almost warm, even with the lingering strangeness of sharing a bed. He shifted, pulling me a little closer, and his breath brushed against my hair.

“Guess we’ll have to get used to it,” he said softly, almost to himself.

There was something in his voice, a hesitance or a quiet vulnerability that surprised me. Dean wasn’t usually the type to dwell on emotions or look too closely at things that made him uncomfortable. I wanted to ask what he meant, but his fingers resumed their soft, steady rhythm through my hair, and I found myself sinking further into the quiet safety of his embrace.

Eventually, Dean’s breathing evened out, and I realized he’d fallen asleep. I stayed awake a while longer, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart beneath my cheek.

The next morning Dean and I were up and pacing at the hatch waiting for the groceries to be delivered. Sam, Theresa and Bobby had stopped answering our calls weeks ago. Hell, I was convinced we could be dead and they probably wouldn’t come checking on us. The creaking of the hatch sent both of us running to be the first one at the hatch.

Sam stood on the other side of the hatch, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You two done yet? Or do I need to leave you in there another week?"

Dean glanced at me, a mix of frustration and reluctance clear in his eyes. He’d never been good at talking about feelings, and being forced into it? That was a nightmare. I felt his hand twitch slightly, the tiniest hint of tension under his cool exterior.

“We’ve dealt with it, okay?” Dean called out, his voice taking on that half-annoyed, half-pleading tone he used when he was trying not to lose it. “Just open the damn door.”

Sam’s skeptical laugh filtered through the small space. “I’m not buying it, Dean. You’ve been dancing around this for months, man. What makes you think I’ll believe you after a couple of weeks stuck together?”

I sighed, stepping closer to the hatch. "Sam, it’s not about the time we’ve been locked up. We talked. We... figured some things out." I glanced at Dean, who gave me a small, almost imperceptible nod. "We know where we stand now."

Sam's footsteps moved closer, and his voice dropped lower, more serious. "And where’s that?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably beside me, running a hand through his hair. "We're good, alright? You can let us out now."

"Yeah?" Sam’s voice was filled with suspicion. "So, what’s the plan then? Gonna keep pretending nothing happened, or have you two finally admitted you’re crazy about each other?"

I blushed at Sam’s bluntness, but before I could respond, Dean stepped forward, his jaw tightening. "We’re done pretending, Sam. Now, can you let us out or do I have to kick this door down?"

A long pause followed. I could practically hear Sam’s wheels turning as he debated whether we were telling the truth or if this was just another one of Dean’s deflections.

Then, finally, the sound of keys rattling echoed through the hatch.

"Alright," Sam said with a sigh. "But if I find out you’re still avoiding this… next time, I’m locking you in for a year."

The hatch creaked open, and the sunlight streamed in, hitting us both like a slap to the face. Dean shot me a sideways look, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

"See?" he muttered, nudging me lightly. "Told you we’d get out."

I smiled back, rolling my eyes but feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. Maybe we weren’t entirely done figuring things out, but one thing was for sure—we weren’t pretending anymore.

As we stepped through the door, the sudden brightness of the outdoors made me squint, but Dean’s hand in mine kept me grounded. His grip was firm—steady. For all the tension and frustration that had built up over the days, that simple touch felt like an anchor.

We looked around, expecting to see Bobby or even Theresa. But to our surprise, it was just Sam, leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed, watching us with that annoyingly knowing expression.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s everyone else?”

Sam shrugged, pushing off from the car. "Just me here. Bobby and Theresa are waiting back at his place. Figured they’d leave me to deal with you two first.”

Dean huffed, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Of course they did." He gave me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused, then started toward the Impala, pulling me along with him.

“You sure this isn’t some other test, Sammy? Locking us up wasn’t enough for you?” Dean teased, though his voice had a sharp edge to it.

Sam just raised an eyebrow. "Get in the car, Dean."

With a sigh, Dean let go of my hand long enough to open the passenger door for me, his fingers brushing mine again as I slid into the seat. There was a certain comfort in the familiar scent of the leather, the faint smell of gun oil and coffee that always clung to Dean’s car. It felt like slipping back into something safe, even though we both knew things between us had shifted. Maybe for the better, maybe not, but we’d figure it out.

Dean climbed in beside me, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. Sam, of course, got in the backseat like it was his right to act all high and mighty.

As Dean started the engine, the low, familiar rumble of the Impala washed over me, sending a shiver of nostalgia down my spine. It was almost as if nothing had changed—except, this time, Dean’s hand found mine again, even as he steered the car down the gravel road.

Sam didn’t miss it. His gaze flickered to our joined hands, but he didn’t say anything. Just smirked that knowing smirk of his.

The ride to Bobby’s was quiet. I could feel the tension in Dean’s shoulders, the way he gripped the wheel a little too tightly. Maybe it was because we were driving back into reality, back to where things were messy and complicated. We’d had time in the house to confront some things, but the real world? That was another story.

After what felt like an eternity, the Impala pulled into Bobby’s driveway. The old house stood like a sentinel, the weight of all the memories, good and bad, hanging in the air. Theresa’s car was parked off to the side next to my Impala which one of them had clearly driven here, and I could already see her and Bobby waiting on the porch.

Dean cut the engine and exhaled slowly, his fingers still intertwined with mine. He glanced at me, his expression a mix of reluctance and resolve. "Ready for round two?" he asked quietly, though his voice had a teasing edge.

I smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "As long as you are."

Dean’s mouth curved into a smirk, and he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head before we climbed out of the car. Sam was already out, walking toward the porch where Bobby and Theresa stood waiting, arms crossed, looking like they had their own set of questions ready to go.

Whatever came next, Dean and I were in this together now. And maybe, just maybe, we could handle whatever round two had in store.

As soon as we stepped out of the Impala, Bobby and Theresa descended on us like we’d walked straight into an interrogation room.

Bobby’s gaze was sharp, arms crossed over his chest as he stood on the porch, his eyes flicking from me to Dean and back again. Theresa, standing beside him, had her hands on her hips, her expression unreadable but clearly sceptical.

“Alright,” Bobby started, his voice gruff but laced with that tone that let you know he wasn’t buying any crap. “You two better not think you’re off the hook just because you’ve been let out. Sam might’ve let you out, but I need to hear it from you.”

Dean gave me a quick side-eye before stepping forward, but before he could say anything, Theresa cut in, arms dropping to her sides as she took a step closer. “Are you really done pretending? Or is this just some act to get out of that house?”

I could feel the weight of their stares. Dean had tensed up beside me, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for another round of questions, but we had to deal with this.

“We’ve worked it out,” I said, speaking up before Dean could snap back with some sarcastic comment. “We’re not just playing along. We know it probably seems like that after all this, but it’s… different now.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. “Different how? You’ve been avoiding this for years, and now all of a sudden, a few days locked up together, and you’ve figured it all out? I ain’t buying it.”

Dean let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "We’re not saying everything’s magically perfect, Bobby. It’s not. But we’re done running from it. Done pretending like there’s nothing going on."

Theresa folded her arms, her expression softening just a bit as she tilted her head at me. “And you? Are you done pretending? Because this only works if you’re both all in.”

I felt Dean’s hand brush mine again, a small, subtle reassurance as I looked from him to Theresa. “Yeah, I’m done pretending. We both are. It wasn’t easy, but we talked. And we’re going to keep talking. We know where we stand now.”

Theresa studied us for a long moment, her eyes lingering on our joined hands. “You better,” she finally said, her voice gentler but still firm. “Because if I find out you’re back to ignoring each other, I’ll lock you both up myself. And believe me, it won’t be as nice as Sam’s version.”

“If I had my way all you would have gotten was a blanket on the floor and a pot to piss in” Bobby grunted in agreement, stepping forward with his no-nonsense look firmly in place. “You got a lot of history between you. I ain’t saying you gotta figure it all out today, but you better not go back to pretending none of this exists.”

Dean nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “We’re not going back to that. We’ll deal with it—together.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but there was a shift in the air, like Bobby and Theresa were finally starting to believe us, even if only a little.

Theresa sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides as she exchanged a look with Bobby. “Alright,” she said, her tone a little warmer now. “We’ll hold you to that. Just… don’t mess this up.”

Dean smirked, a bit of his usual confidence sneaking back in. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bobby shook his head, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as he muttered, “Well, let’s hope you’re telling the truth this time, or I’ll find a way to make sure you never leave each other’s sight.”

Dean squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, a silent acknowledgment that we were both ready for whatever came next. We weren’t done dealing with everything between us, but for the first time in a long time, we were on the same page. And that was enough—for now.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Master list

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20 Finale

A tiny taste of my WIP!

The guy in the video store, the metal head guitarist in the band, the photographer, the lifeguard and the chief of police. Hawkins just seemed to breed hot guys. It didn’t help that all five had asked you the pretty new girl in Hawkins on a date. And you in your bumbling awkwardness had agreed to the five dates. You now sat in your apartment having a meltdown trying to find a solution to your problem.

The amount of awkward I feel cannot be accurately quantified right now. I'm currently sitting on a bus travelling to the next town over with a bunch of school kids. Behind me is 2 girls that I'm guessing are about 15/16. Apparently, they have been spying on my phone and text messages and they saw I was talking to my finance whose saved in my phone as 'My Man's' and ask me if the guy in the pink hoodie on my home screen is my boyfriend because his cute.....MY HOMESCREENS FRICKEN OLIVER STARK. Like girls in my dreams.

The homescreen photo in question.

Hello, do you do Don Flack history?

Sorry if this isn't the answer your looking for because I'm not 100% sure what exactly your asking but I do write for Don Flack. I have a Don Flack story I started ages ago but never finished that I would love to finish eventually.

I Want To Ruin Our Friendship pt2

eddie munson x fem!reader

1.6k word count

summary you've been friends with Eddie since you were 5 but discovered it was the love of your life. You want more with Eddie but don't know if he feels the same. Will you ruin the friendship to find out?

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Note still not edited. I don't like editing.

Part 1!

The only place I knew Eddie would never find me was the abandoned cabin in the woods. The only person I've ever brought here was Steve. Steve and I usually hang out here just to get away from Hawkins and relax. He said the cabin belonged to Hopper before he moved in with Joyce. Now it was merely a shell broken down by nature. I curled up in a corner bringing my knees to my chest, trying to keep warm. How could I have been so stupid? Leaving my lyric book on my bed for Eddie to see. He'll probably never want to talk to me again. His face is forever burned in my memory. That look of confusion, of what the hell. I was dragged from the thoughts by the sound of footsteps coming into the cabin. I began to panic. Had Eddie found me? Had Steve told me where I was? What was I supposed to tell Eddie if it was him?

"y/n, are you in here?"

"Steve?" I looked up

"Oh, thank god we've been looking for you for 4 hours, woman!" Steve jogged with concern on his face

"We?" I sobbed

"Yeah, me, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, Nancy, Will, Mike, Lucas, Max, El, Gareth, Jonathan, Argyle, like everyone" Steve dropped next to me. "Actually, I'm pretty sure Nace has gone to get Hop."

"Eddie has been looking for me," I asked, ignoring the rest

"Of course, he literally broke my front door trying to get our attention after you took off" Steve threw his hands in the air. "What happened anyway?"

"Eddie didn't tell you?" I looked at Steve with big eyes

"No, he just came running in screaming that you had taken off and he couldn't find you."

"Let's just say you and Rob aren't the only ones who know about my crush on Eddie", I sighed

"Wait, you told him?" Steve jumped to his feet, running a hand through his hair

"Not intentionally, I was working on a song, and Eddie came over, and I left the songbook on my bed" I started crying again

"Oh y/n" Steve sat back down next to me.

He pulled me into his side, rubbing a hand on my arm, allowing me to cry into his shoulder. Steve sat in silence with me until I started shaking. We were on the edge of winter, so the weather had been getting quite cold lately.

"Come on, we should get you back. I'm sure everyone has been sufficiently scared by now" Steve gave me a small smile

"I don't think I can face Eddie" I looked at Steve, panicked

"y/n, just take a deep breath. It will be fine, trust me" Steve held a hand out to me.

I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up from my place on the ground. We strolled out of the cabin into the woods. Once my feet made contact with the dirt path leading out of the woods, I let out a slight squeal.

"Are you okay?" Steve spun to face me

"Yeah, apparently, running through the woods without shoes isn't a great idea", I tried to laugh

"Do you want me to carry you?" Steve asked, concern on his face

"Please, if it's not too much to ask" I looked down at the ground

Steve gave me a small smile motioning for me to hop onto his back. Steve carried me all the way to his house, making small talk and throwing out the occasional joke to make me smile. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about getting to Steves, and I knew Eddie would likely still be there. Just the thought of Eddie was enough to bring me to tears, and I buried my face into Steve's shoulder and sobbed.

"Hay, y/n still thinking about Eddie?" Steve asked softly

I nodded into his shoulder.

"y/n, you should have seen how panicked he was when he couldn't find you. I think his beating himself up over everything. I can tell you for certain that, regardless, Eddie is still your friend."

We soon left the woods and were back in the familiar streets of Hawkins. It was only 3 streets across and 2 up from where we left the woods to Steves. I wasn't sure I was ready to face everyone, but at the same time, I was cold and tired and just glad to be inside. I think Steve much have sensed this as he placed me down, wrapped his jacket around me and picked me up bridal style, holding me to his warm chest. I sighed, taking comfort in his warmth. I loved Steve when we were together, but I loved Eddie more. Steve had never done one wrong thing during our relationship, so the day I broke it off with him, I spent hours sobbing to Eddie curled on his couch in his trailer watching movies. Eddie had been there every time I ended a relationship. He'd helped put me back together. He didn't know why I'd ended all the relationships, at least not until now. As we grew closer to Steve, I could hear the voices of my friends and Hopper yelling at each other over me. I felt terrible putting them into a panic like this, but flight wins for me every time when it comes to fight or flight.

"Are you lot certain you've searched absolutely everywhere she could have gone?" Hopper asked gruffly

"Yes, Hopper, we've looked everywhere", Dustin yelled. "Even the unlikely place of Eddie's trailer" "If she's still in town, then she's somewhere we don't know about," Robin said

"Jesus H. Christ" Eddie screamed

"Uh, guys", Mike spoke up

"Y/N", Eddie called, running towards us

I instinctively curled further into Steve, wanting to disappear. I heard Eddie stop before us, and I buried my face into Steve's chest.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Eddie asked. I could hear the pain in his voice

"Eddie", I whispered, every fibre of my being wanting to jump into his arms yet at the same time too scared to move

I'm here, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere"" Eddie spoke gently

"y/n, is it okay for me to hand you over to Eddie? I want to make things more private for you two," Steve asked. I nodded into his chest.

Steve handed me off to Eddie, telling him to take me inside while he dealt with everyone in the front yard. I felt relaxed and safe when I was in Eddie's arms. I could smell Eddies cheap dollar store cologne and cigarettes on his clothes. Eddies arms held me tightly against his chest, almost as if he was scared to let go. Eddie carried me up the front steps of Steve's house and into his lounge room. Eddie sat on the lounge, still keeping me in his arms. He wrapped his arms around my waist and placed his chin on my head. I could feel the tears running down his cheeks. I pulled away just far enough to be able to see Eddies face. I placed my hands on either side of his face and wiped away his tears.

""I'm sorry I made you run away. Please don't run away again. I love you, I need you in my life, you are my life, I'm sorry it took me so long to see it, just please…."

I cut Eddie off with a soft kiss. Eddies hands found their way to either side of my face deepening the kiss. It was a kiss filled with emotion. Everything we never said was conveyed in that kiss. I could have stayed in that moment forever. Safe with Eddie, the man I love, have always loved and will always love.

i'm having so much fun

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 18

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.5k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Authors Note: 2 chapters to go!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The drive back to the bunker was long, the silence stretching between us. Sam kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel a little too tight. Y/N sat next to me, curled up against the door, her breathing slow and steady. Every so often, I’d glance at her, just to make sure she was okay.

When we finally pulled into the bunker, the familiar sight of home comforting.

Bobby and Theresa were waiting for us.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, Theresa was there, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” she murmured, leading her away toward our room.

I nodded at Bobby. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a long, unreadable look before turning his attention to Sam.

I shook off the weird tension and headed to the kitchen. The place was quiet, the kind of quiet that sinks into your bones. I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the cap off with practiced ease.

Behind me, I heard Sam walk in. I didn’t turn around. “Where’d Bobby go?” I asked, taking a sip.

Silence.

I frowned, glancing over my shoulder. Sam was sitting on the couch, his head tilted back, eyes closed.

“Really?” I huffed. “You could’ve at least answered before passing out.”

No response.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the counter, letting the beer sit heavy in my hand. The quiet stretched on, and for some reason, it started to get to me. The bunker always had this hum of life, a steady undercurrent of sound. But right now? It felt… empty.

I exhaled sharply and downed the rest of my beer. “Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered. “I’m beat. Gonna get some sleep.”

I pushed off the counter and made my way down the hall. As I passed by, Theresa stepped out of her room, her eyes flicking up briefly.

I gave her a nod. “Night.”

She didn’t react. Didn’t even glance at me. Just turned and walked away.

I frowned. “Okay, cool. Good talk.”

Shaking my head, I pushed open the door to my room, to find Y/N already curled up in bed.

I hesitated for a second before stepping inside, closing the door behind me. The silence pressed in again, heavier this time.

…

The days after the hunt passed in a strange sort of haze. Y/N kept herself busy, floating through the bunker like a ghost, avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. Avoiding me. I didn’t push, didn’t ask. Something inside me told me I didn’t want to hear the answer.

Then Castiel showed up.

I felt the shift in the air before I even saw him. That familiar rustle of wings, the kind that always managed to set me on edge. I stepped out of my room just in time to see Y/N standing in the hall, arms crossed tight over her chest, staring him down.

"Go away," she said, her voice clipped.

Cas frowned, tilting his head. "Y/N—"

"I don't want to talk to you right now." She turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing into the library without a second glance.

Cas lingered for a moment, his expression unreadable. He turned his gaze toward me, but I didn’t move, just leaned against the doorframe and took a slow sip of my beer. He hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh, nodded once, and vanished.

…

It was Bobby who finally suggested we take a break from hunting. We were a week out from Centerville and everyone had thrown themselves into the work instead of taking the time to check in with each other.

"Theresa’s pregnant, and none of you idjits are exactly in top shape after what happened in Centerville," he said, leveling us all with one of those no-nonsense looks of his. "Take some time off. Regroup. Get your heads straight."

Sam nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. Y/N sat across from him, eyes downcast, picking at the sleeve of her hoodie.

No one argued.

…

The weeks that followed were quiet. Too quiet.

Y/N spent a lot of time in the library, flipping through lore books she wasn’t really reading. She stayed in bed later than usual, went to bed earlier. At first, it was easy to chalk up to exhaustion, but then little things started adding up.

She barely touched her coffee anymore. Certain foods made her turn pale. It was like she was punishing herself. Denying herself her normal pleasures as some sort of punishment for what I wasn’t sure. All my attempts to help her seemed to fall flat. It was as if she was pretending I didn’t exist. I understand why she was mad but to stay mad this long? I wasn’t a pro at long term relationships but this didn’t seem right.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

I had to know for sure.

Leaving the bunker felt strange, like I was slipping away unnoticed even though no one had been paying much attention to me lately. Not that I wanted to be noticed. I got in the car and drove into town, my fingers tight on the wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs. The pharmacy was nearly empty when I walked in, my footsteps muted against the linoleum floors. I knew exactly what I was looking for, but I still hesitated before grabbing them—two, no, three boxes of pregnancy tests. Just in case.

The cashier didn’t say much, and I barely heard what little they did. I paid in cash, shoved the bag deep into my pocket, and walked out into the cool afternoon air. I needed somewhere private, somewhere no one would find me.

The park. It was quiet, tucked just off the main road. The public restroom was clean enough, and right now, that was all that mattered.

Locking myself in a stall, I took a deep breath and pulled the tests from the bag. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped one, but I forced myself to focus. One by one, I took them, lined them up along the edge of the sink, and waited.

Two minutes felt like an eternity.

Then, all at once, the results appeared.

Positive.

All of them.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened, and I pressed a hand to my mouth as hot tears welled in my eyes. I stumbled back against the wall, gripping my stomach with the other hand as if that could somehow steady me.

Pregnant.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this.

But it was.

And I had no idea what to do.

…

I didn’t tell anyone.

Instead, I hid it. I wore baggy clothes, trained less, avoided heavy lifting. I found a doctor, went to appointments alone, tucked every ultrasound photo away in a vent under the bed where no one would see. I made excuses when asked why I was hiding in the library so much and not training as much as I use to. I let Sam and Bobby believe I was still shaken from Centerville and needed to concentrate on the lore so I didn’t get caught out again. If they suspected anything, they didn’t say.

The bunker carried on as usual. Sam threw himself into research. Bobby checked in regularly. Theresa kept making lists of baby names and nursery ideas.

She had dozens of them, written in the neat, careful handwriting she always used when she was excited. She pored over books, websites, even old family records, scribbling down possibilities in a notebook she carried everywhere. Every few days, she’d cross out some and add more, her favorites changing constantly.

"What about something classic? Elizabeth, Katherine, maybe Charlotte?" she’d muse out loud. Then, the next day, she’d pivot. "Or maybe something unique! Juniper, Lark, Wren—something that stands out."

Sam indulged her, offering occasional input but mostly just smiling as she planned. She even started setting up a nursery in one of the spare rooms, painting the walls a soft green at first before deciding on a pale yellow instead. She rearranged the furniture over and over, never quite satisfied with where the crib should go. Every day, something was moved, adjusted, perfected.

And Dean—

I swallowed hard, pushing that thought away.

…

Theresa was the one who found out first.

It was late, and I’d just gotten out of the shower. Standing clad in tights and a bra I dug through my dresser for a clean shirt. The door swung open, and I barely had time to react before Theresa stepped inside, chattering about something—until she froze.

I turned, my heart hammering in my chest, my damp hair dripping down my back. Her gaze had zeroed in on the unmistakable curve of my belly.

"Oh my God," she whispered, eyes wide. "You're pregnant."

My breath caught. "Taz—"

"How long?" Her voice was softer now, laced with concern.

"Five months."

Her expression shifted, something between shock and heartbreak. "You’ve been hiding this for five months?"

I nodded, my throat tightening. "I… I didn’t know how to tell anyone."

For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then, finally, she let out a small, breathy laugh and stepped forward, pulling me into a hug.

"You idiot," she whispered. "You didn’t have to do this alone."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping her back just as tightly.

Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone anymore.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 14

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings child emotional abuse, panic attack mentioned and described. The mentioned situation is based on my own personal experience with an abusive father and the resulting trauma I have dealt with because of it. I apologise if I trigger anyone.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The road stretched out before us, the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine filling the silence as Dean drove. The morning had started with an unsettling quietness. Dean had showered, dressed, packed his bag, and headed to the car without a word. It wasn’t like him to be so distant, and the tension in the air was palpable.

I sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him as the miles passed. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

In the backseat, Sam and Theresa exchanged worried looks. Sam had been uncharacteristically quiet too, his eyes occasionally darting to the rearview mirror to study his brother. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Dean,” Sam said gently, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been quiet all morning. What’s going on?”

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m fine, Sammy,” he said curtly, his voice flat and distant.

“You don’t seem fine,” Theresa chimed in, her tone cautious. “If something’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

Dean didn’t respond, his focus remaining firmly on the road.

“Dean—” Sam started again, but Dean cut him off sharply.

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice carrying an edge that made everyone in the car go silent.

I glanced at him, my heart sinking at the sight of the storm brewing behind his eyes. Whatever was eating at him, it was bad. I reached out tentatively, placing my hand lightly on his arm, but he didn’t acknowledge the gesture.

The rest of the drive to the bunker was oppressively quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sam sat back in his seat, arms crossed, his concern evident even in his silence. Theresa stared out the window, her expression thoughtful but uneasy.

And Dean? He just kept driving, his knuckles white, his eyes hard, and his thoughts a million miles away.

The Impala pulled into the bunker’s garage with a low growl, and before the engine had even stopped completely, Dean was out of the car. The slam of the driver’s door echoed through the space as he stormed off, his boots thudding heavily against the concrete floor.

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked at me with a mix of sympathy and apology. “Give him some time,” he said quietly. “Whatever’s eating at him, he’ll talk when he’s ready.”

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen. Dean’s silence on the drive had been bad enough, but the anger radiating off him now was something else entirely.

“Come on,” Sam said, gesturing for me to follow. “I’ll show you to his room so you can put your stuff away.”

Dean’s room was small but surprisingly neat—though still distinctly Dean. The faint scent of leather and whiskey lingered, and the shelves were lined with books and trinkets he’d picked up over the years. I placed my bag on the bed, my fingers lingering on the worn fabric of his blanket, and tried to shake off the unease.

“Theresa’s already explored every inch of this place” Sam said, pulling me from my thoughts. “She’ll want to show you around.”

He was right. Theresa was waiting just outside the room, a cheerful smile on her face despite the tension hanging over the group. “Ready for the grand tour?” she asked.

I followed her through the bunker, trying to focus on her enthusiastic explanations. She showed me the library, where rows of dusty bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling, and the garage, where the Impala now sat alongside other vehicles. She pointed out her and Sam’s room, the spare rooms, and the arsenal, where weapons of every kind were meticulously organized.

The lounge room had a couple of mismatched couches and a large table littered with papers and beer bottles, and the kitchen—well, that’s where I found him.

Dean was leaning against the counter, beer in hand, staring at nothing in particular. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set in a hard line.

Theresa paused, sensing the shift in the air. “I’ll, uh, leave you two alone,” she said softly, backing out of the room.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. My heart ached at the sight of him like this, clearly battling something he wasn’t ready to share. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his back.

“Dean,” I said gently, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, without warning, he shoved my arms away and turned to face me, his eyes blazing.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, his voice rising with every word. “What’s wrong is that every time I turn around, there’s someone breathing down my neck! Asking me if I’m okay, if I’m fine, if I’m gonna talk about my damn feelings!”

I stepped back, startled by the sudden outburst. “Dean, I just—”

“You just what?” he snapped, cutting me off. “You think wrapping your arms around me is gonna fix whatever this is? You think you can just ask me what’s wrong and magically make it better?”

His words hit me like a slap, and I felt my chest tighten. My voice cracked as I tried to reply. “I just wanted to help…”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. “Well, maybe I don’t want your help! Maybe I just need everyone to back the hell off!”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I took another step back, my legs trembling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

But I couldn’t finish. My throat closed up, and the fear creeping into my chest overwhelmed me. I turned and ran, my footsteps echoing down the hallway as I fled the kitchen.

Behind me, I thought I heard Dean call my name, but I didn’t stop. Not until I was far enough away that the lump in my throat started to ease and I could breathe again.

…

Dean’s P.O.V

As soon as I heard her footsteps retreating, I knew I’d screwed up—big time.

“Y/N!” I called after her, but there was no response. Just the echo of her running down the hall, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

“Dammit!” I growled, slamming my fist into the counter. Pain shot through my hand instantly, sharp and biting, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the guilt eating me alive. Blood welled up from my knuckles, and I swore under my breath, heading for the sink.

I turned on the cold water and shoved my hand under it, wincing as the sting hit me. The red swirled down the drain, but it didn’t take away the mess I’d just made. My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t get the image of her face out of my head—the way she looked at me, scared out of her mind. I’d done that. I’d done that.

“You’re an idiot,” Theresa’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and unforgiving.

I didn’t even turn around right away. She was right. I was an idiot. “I know,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the water.

“No, you don’t,” she snapped, and I could feel her glare boring into my back. “If you did, you wouldn’t have just blown up at her like that.”

I finally turned, but I couldn’t look her in the eye. “I didn’t mean to—”

“To what?” Theresa interrupted, her tone like a whip. “To scare her? To make her feel like she’s back in that house where every day was a screaming match?”

Her words hit me like a freight train. “What are you talking about?” I asked, though part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Theresa crossed her arms, staring me down like I was the biggest idiot on the planet. “Y/N grew up in a house where her parents screamed at each other all the time. And when her dad wasn’t yelling at her mom, he was yelling at her. Over nothing. Over stupid crap that wasn’t even her fault.”

I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Finally, I managed, “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Theresa said, her voice softer now but still firm. “She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. But now, thanks to your little outburst, she’s probably somewhere having a full-blown panic attack, thinking she’s back in that hellhole.”

I closed my eyes, running my free hand over my face. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I said quietly, my voice cracking more than I wanted it to.

“Well, you did,” Theresa shot back. “And it’s gonna take time for her to trust you again. You can’t just fix this by saying you’re sorry and hoping it’ll all blow over.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?” I asked, my voice desperate.

Theresa sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. “You give her space, Dean. You let her breathe. And when she’s ready, you apologize the right way. No excuses, no ‘I didn’t mean to.’ Just own up to it.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My hand throbbed under the water, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except fixing this.

Theresa started to walk away but stopped at the door. “Dean, she cares about you. A lot. But you’ve gotta be careful with her. She’s tougher than she looks, but she’s not invincible.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the steady drip of blood swirling down the drain.

I stared at my busted hand, jaw tight as I made a silent promise: I’d fix this. No matter how long it took or what I had to do, I’d make it right.

…

Y/N's P.O.V

I didn’t stop running until my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor in the library. My chest was tight, my breath coming in shallow gasps as sobs wracked my body. Desperate for some semblance of safety, I crawled under one of the large wooden tables and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest.

The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the echoes of Dean’s voice in my head—loud, sharp, and angry. Every word cut deeper than the last, dredging up memories I tried so hard to bury.

I didn’t even notice Sam until I saw his boots beside the table. Slowly, he crouched down and settled onto the floor, keeping a careful distance.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing, like he was afraid to startle me. “I saw you run, and I... I heard what Dean said.”

I buried my face against my knees, too ashamed and overwhelmed to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” Sam continued, his voice full of sincerity. “For whatever’s going on with Dean, for what he said to you. He’s an idiot sometimes, and he doesn’t know how to handle his own crap, let alone anyone else’s.”

His words made me cry harder, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do. After a moment, I felt his hand brush against my shoulder, but I flinched instinctively, shrinking back further into the shadows under the table.

Sam pulled his hand back immediately, his voice full of regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll leave you alone. Just... come find me if you need anything, okay?”

“No,” I croaked, my voice shaky and barely audible. “Please... don’t leave me.”

He froze for a second, then nodded, even though I wasn’t looking at him. “Okay,” he said softly. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Sam stayed there, sitting silently on the floor beside me. He didn’t say another word, didn’t try to touch me again. He just waited, his presence a quiet reassurance.

Eventually, the sobs slowed, and my breathing evened out. Exhaustion pulled me under, and I drifted into a restless sleep, still tucked under the table like a scared child.

…

Sam’s P.O.V

Y/N’s hiccupping sobs had finally quieted. Her breathing was steady now, the tear-streaked tension on her face replaced by exhaustion. She’d fallen asleep, curled up under the table like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

Careful not to wake her, I reached under and gently scooped her into my arms. She was lighter than I expected, and the way she shifted against me made my chest ache. Whatever Dean had said—or done—had clearly hit her harder than I realized.

I carried her through the dimly lit halls of the bunker, moving as quietly as I could. When I rounded a corner, I stopped short. Dean was standing there, leaning against the wall, his hand wrapped in a makeshift bandage. His eyes widened when he saw me holding Y/N.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

I glared at him, keeping my voice low. “She ran, Dean. She ran and cried herself to sleep under a damn table because of you.”

His face crumpled, guilt washing over him. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant,” I shot back, though my tone softened at the sight of his obvious regret. “You need to fix this.”

Dean stepped forward, holding out his arms. “I’ll take her.”

I hesitated, my protective instincts flaring. “Don’t wake her up, Dean. She’s had enough for one day.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice low and solemn.

After a moment, I handed her over. Dean cradled her carefully, like she was something fragile, and I watched as he carried her toward their room.

…

Dean’s P.O.V

Holding her in my arms felt like both a privilege and a punishment. She was so quiet, her face still streaked with dried tears, and I hated myself for putting her through this.

I walked into our room, pushing the door open with my foot. The bed was still unmade from earlier, and I laid her down as gently as I could. She stirred for a moment, a soft whimper escaping her lips, before curling into a tight ball on her side.

It broke me.

I stood there, staring at her for what felt like forever. Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to sit beside her and tell her how sorry I was, to make her believe it. But I knew better. She needed space, and right now, I was the last person she needed around.

With a heavy heart, I grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and left the room, closing the door behind me.

The lounge room couch was cold and uncomfortable, but I didn’t deserve anything better. Not tonight. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, her quiet whimper echoed in my mind, and I made a silent vow to myself.

Whatever it took, I’d make this right.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 17

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

4.1k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Authors Note: 3 chapters to go!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I sat cross-legged on the bed, the weight of Cas’s words pressing heavily on my chest. Dean was sitting across from me, his brows furrowed as he listened to me recount every detail of what the angel had said. I could barely look at him, afraid of how he might react.

When I finished, there was a long pause. Finally, Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Look, about the Nephilim thing... I already knew.”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“Cas told me a while ago,” he admitted, his voice low. “He thought I should know, in case it ever... came up. But I didn’t think it mattered. You’re still you, Y/N. Nephilim or not.”

I stared at him, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

Dean winced. “I figured it’d just freak you out, and you’ve had enough on your plate. I was gonna tell you eventually, I swear.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “And the pregnancy thing?”

“That,” he said with a dry laugh, “I’m pretty sure is Cas being Gods good little soldier. He’d do anything that guy says. But if it’s really bugging you, we can grab a pregnancy test and settle it.”

I shook my head, feeling a strange mixture of relief and frustration. “You’re probably right. It’s just Cas being... weird.” I hesitated before adding, “Let’s just forget about it for now.”

Dean nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze mine. “Good call.”

I let myself lean back into the pillows, forcing the thoughts to the back of my mind. It wasn’t easy, but with Dean’s steady presence beside me, sleep eventually came.

…

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a loud banging on the bedroom door.

“Y/N! Dean! Wake up!” Theresa’s voice was practically vibrating with excitement.

Dean groaned, rolling over to glance at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s 10:30,” he grumbled. “What could possibly be so exciting at 10:30 in the morning?”

Before either of us could get out of bed, the door burst open, and Theresa stood there, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“I’m pregnant!” she blurted, her grin so wide it could’ve lit up the room.

I blinked at her, the words taking a moment to sink in. Dean sat up straighter, his face a mix of shock and confusion.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his voice flat.

Theresa nodded eagerly. “Yes! I just took the test. Sam and I are having a baby!”

The silence that followed was heavy but only lasted a beat before I broke into a wide smile. “Oh my god, Theresa! That’s amazing!”

I jumped out of bed, wrapping her in a tight hug as her excitement became infectious.

Dean sat there, still looking stunned. “Congrats,” he managed, his voice laced with a kind of bemused awe.

Theresa pulled back from the hug, her eyes bright with happy tears. “Thanks! I just had to tell you guys first!”

As she babbled on about telling Sam and their plans, I couldn’t help but glance back at Dean. His expression softened as his gaze met mine, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

For the first time in a long time, things felt... good. Even with all the uncertainty hanging in the air, this moment was pure joy.

…

Theresa from the moment she told us hadn’t stopped talking about dragging me shopping to put together a gift for Sam to announce the pregnancy.

Theresa practically dragged me from one store to another, her excitement bubbling over as she picked up tiny baby clothes, soft booties, and pacifiers, holding each one up for my opinion. I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even if the topic of babies brought an unsettling knot to my stomach.

“This is so cute, isn’t it?” Theresa asked, holding up a pale-yellow onesie with little ducks on it.

“Adorable,” I replied, my voice light even though my thoughts were far from the conversation.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, we had a few small items in hand, ready to put together a gift to announce her pregnancy to Sam. Just before we were about to head out, Theresa suddenly stopped.

“Wait, I need to pop into the pharmacy,” she said, gripping her stomach lightly. “This morning sickness thing... I’m not sure ginger cookies and ginger ale are gonna cut it no matter what Google says.”

“Of course,” I said, following her inside.

While Theresa chatted with the pharmacist about options, I found myself wandering down the aisles. My feet carried me to the pregnancy test section before I even realized where I was.

The shelves were lined with boxes in bright colours, each claiming to be the most accurate. My hand hovered over one, my heart pounding. I glanced back to make sure Theresa was still preoccupied, then quickly grabbed a box and shoved it into my pocket.

“Ready to go?” Theresa asked cheerfully, appearing behind me with a small bag in her hand.

“Yep,” I said, forcing a smile.

As we walked out, Theresa caught the scent of garlic bread wafting from a nearby restaurant. “Oh my god, we have to eat here,” she said, practically drooling.

I laughed. “Garlic bread it is.”

We found a small table by the window and placed our orders. The knot in my stomach tightened as I excused myself to go to the restroom.

Inside the stall, my hands trembled as I opened the box. The instructions were simple enough, but my nerves made everything feel harder than it should have been.

Minutes later, I stared at the small screen, holding my breath.

Negative.

A wave of relief washed over me, so strong I had to sit for a moment to steady myself. I tucked the test into the little trash bin and washed my hands, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

“Get it together,” I muttered to myself.

When I returned to the table, Theresa was happily munching on her garlic bread. “This is the best thing ever,” she declared, holding up a piece for emphasis.

I chuckled, sitting back down. “I take it we’re ordering more for the bunker?”

“Absolutely.”

As we ate, the conversation shifted to Sam’s gift. We brainstormed ways to wrap it, deciding on a small box with tissue paper and a handwritten note.

Theresa brought up pregnancy care, casually waving off the concern. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” she said, popping a piece of bread into her mouth.

I nodded, but her nonchalant attitude left me wondering. I made a mental note to look into options for her later.

By the time we left the restaurant, the heavy weight on my chest had eased. Theresa’s joy was infectious, for a moment I let myself believe that maybe just maybe Cas was wrong, that maybe he was just saying what God wanted him to.

Just as we were about to leave the restaurant my phone buzzed dragging me away from our conversation.

“Oh well looks like our plans are on hold” I sighed looking at the text “Dean messaged, apparently the holidays over”

…

 We sat around the war room table, maps and files spread out in front of us as Dean leaned back in his chair, tossing a pen between his fingers.

“Just got off the phone with Bobby,” Dean said. “He says there’s something weird going down in a little town called Centerville, Pennsylvania. Looks like a couple of demons are running the place, setting up some kind of... meatsuit recruitment drive. At least fourteen people have gone missing after passing through.”

I frowned, leaning forward to study the map of Centerville. “Fourteen? That’s a lot, even for demons. What’s Bobby think they’re planning?”

Dean shrugged. “He’s not sure. Could be they’re stockpiling bodies for something bigger, but whatever it is, we’re gonna shut it down.”

“Sounds like a solid lead,” Sam said, pulling out his notebook and jotting down a few details.

Dean turned to Theresa, his tone firm. “You’re sitting this one out.”

Theresa’s eyes widened. “What? Why? I’m perfectly capable—”

“He’s right,” I interrupted, giving her a meaningful look. “You should stay behind, and we’ll call Bobby to come hang out with you.”

Theresa’s confusion mirrored Sam’s as he glanced between us. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Theresa hesitated, then reached into her bag, pulling out a small gift box she’d carefully prepared on the way back from town. She slid it across the table toward Sam, her excitement bubbling just beneath the surface.

Sam took the box, his brows furrowing as he opened it. Inside were the baby items we’d picked out: the tiny onesie, a pacifier, and a positive pregnancy test.

For a moment, he just stared, as if his brain needed an extra second to catch up. Then his face broke into a grin so wide it was almost comical. “You’re... you’re pregnant?”

Theresa nodded, her smile just as wide.

Sam was out of his chair in a second, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my god, this is incredible!” he said, his voice full of unrestrained joy.

Theresa laughed, hugging him back. “I was gonna tell you last night, but the timing didn’t feel right.”

Dean cleared his throat, his expression softening as he watched the moment. “And that’s why you’re staying behind. No way we’re risking you and the baby out there with demons.”

Sam nodded quickly, turning to Theresa. “Dean’s right. It’s too dangerous.”

Theresa’s smile faltered. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

“We know,” I said gently, reaching out to touch her hand. “But this isn’t just about you anymore. And Bobby will make sure nothing happens here while we’re gone.”

Theresa sighed, crossing her arms. “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

Dean smirked. “Noted.”

Within the hour, the Impala was packed, and the three of us hit the road to Pennsylvania. As I settled into the seat beside Dean, I glanced back at Theresa, who stood in the doorway of the bunker, Sam’s arm draped protectively around her shoulders.

We had a job to do, but part of me already couldn’t wait to come back.

…

After what felt like an eternity on the road, we finally rolled into Centerville under the cover of darkness. The town had a strange vibe—quiet, too quiet for a place that had a growing reputation for disappearances.

“Motels are a no-go,” Dean said, scanning the town as we drove through. “Too many eyes.”

Sam pointed to a dilapidated house on the edge of town, its windows boarded up and the lawn overgrown. “That’ll work. Looks abandoned.”

Dean turned the Impala into the dirt driveway, parking beside a rusted shed attached to the house. We all piled out, stretching and shaking off the stiffness from the long drive.

“Hide her in there,” Dean said, nodding toward the shed.

Together, we pushed the Impala inside, closing the rickety doors behind us. The house itself was better than I’d expected, but not by much. The inside smelled like dust and decay, and the floorboards creaked with every step.

“It’s got charm,” I said dryly, earning a snort from Dean.

“We’ll make it work,” Sam said, tossing his bag onto what might have once been a couch. “Let’s head into town, see what we can dig up.”

We cleaned up quickly and headed out, walking toward the town center under the dim glow of streetlights. Centerville looked like any other small town, but something felt... off.

Our investigation eventually led us to a bar that seemed to be the social hub for visitors. Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversation. A pool table sat in the corner, and a jukebox played a classic rock tune that barely drowned out the sound of clinking glasses.

We split up, each taking a different approach to questioning the locals. I struck up a conversation with the bartender, a wiry man with a skeptical gaze.

“Strangers roll through here often?” I asked casually, leaning on the bar.

He shrugged, wiping a glass. “Not much to see in Centerville. Most don’t stick around long.”

“What about the ones who do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why you asking?”

“Just curious,” I said with a smile, trying to put him at ease.

Eventually, the bartender opened up. He and a couple of locals confirmed they’d seen the same couple hanging around the bar regularly—a man and a woman who had apparently blown into town about a year ago and never left. They’d made themselves at home, which was unusual in a town like this.

Dean joined me at the bar, a cold beer in his hand. “They sound like our demons,” he muttered under his breath.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Sam said, appearing behind us. “But it’s definitely worth looking into.”

We stayed a little longer, gathering more details about the mysterious couple before heading back to the abandoned house. The pieces were starting to come together, but we still had more questions than answers.

…

The house was eerily quiet as we settled in for the night. The faint creak of the wind brushing against the boarded-up windows added to the atmosphere. Sam and Dean were in the small, makeshift living room, pouring over maps and the notes we’d scribbled down from the bar. I sat cross-legged on a tattered armchair, watching as they hashed out tomorrow’s plan.

“We need to figure out where they’ve been taking these people,” Sam said, tapping his pen against the map.

Dean grunted. “Yeah, but waltzing into their hideout isn’t exactly easy. They’ve been here a year. They know the lay of the land better than we do.”

Sam leaned back, crossing his arms. “That’s why we need to split up. Y/N should approach them. Alone.”

Dean’s head snapped up, his jaw tightening. “No way. Not happening.”

Sam held up a hand. “Hear me out. They’ve been targeting strangers, right? Someone who seems like they don’t have ties. If Y/N plays the part of a solo traveler, it could get them to drop their guard.”

I stayed quiet, letting them argue. Dean’s protectiveness was nothing new, but this was different. His shoulders were tense, his voice edged with something more than frustration—it was fear.

“And what if it’s a trap?” Dean shot back, glaring at Sam.

“It’s always a trap, Dean,” I said, finally speaking up. “We’re hunters. That’s the job.”

Dean turned to me, his eyes softening but still filled with worry. “I don’t like this.”

“I can handle myself,” I said firmly.

Sam nodded. “We’ll be nearby the whole time. If anything happens, we’ll step in.”

Dean rubbed his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. But the second anything feels off, you’re out. Got it?”

I nodded. “Got it.”

With the plan decided, we started preparing for the next day. I packed a small bag with essentials—my knife, a flask of holy water, and a few other tools of the trade. Dean handed me an emergency burner phone, his fingers brushing mine longer than necessary.

“Use it the second something goes wrong,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Promise,” I replied.

As the night wore on, we all settled into our makeshift sleeping arrangements. Dean and I took the slightly less destroyed bedroom, though the mattress on the floor left a lot to be desired. Sam claimed the couch, his long legs awkwardly dangling over the edge.

Lying next to Dean in the dark, I could feel the tension radiating off him. His breathing was steady, but I knew sleep wouldn’t come easy for him tonight.

“Dean,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll figure this out. Together.”

He didn’t say anything, but his hand reached out, finding mine in the darkness. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I know”

…

The plan was in motion the moment I stepped into the bar. The air smelled of stale beer and desperation, a fitting backdrop for what I was about to do. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I took a seat at the counter, making sure to appear as if I didn’t have a care in the world. My eyes darted around briefly, taking in the patrons. I spotted Sam a few minutes later, casually perched at the opposite end of the bar, his head down like he was nursing a bad day. Dean, much to his displeasure, was waiting outside in the Impala, ready to spring into action.

The bar door creaked open, and in walked the couple. Even without seeing their eyes flash black, I knew. The energy around them was unmistakable—dark, predatory. They carried themselves with the confidence of predators circling their prey.

I felt their gazes lock onto me almost immediately. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I picked up my drink and took a casual sip, pretending not to notice them as they approached.

The man slid onto the stool to my right, the woman to my left, effectively boxing me in. “Well, hey there,” the man said, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent that made my skin crawl. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

I turned my head slightly, giving him a small, shy smile. “Just passing through,” I said, keeping my voice light and friendly.

The woman leaned in, her perfume almost choking me. “Passing through? Someone like you must have places to be, people to see.”

I shook my head. “Not really. Just… trying to figure out where I’m going next.”

“Perfect,” the man said, his grin widening. “We might be able to help with that. You see, my partner and I—” he gestured to the woman with a nod “—work for a modeling agency. Talent scouts. And, well…” He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering uncomfortably. “You’ve got the look.”

My stomach churned, but I forced a surprised laugh. “Me? Modeling? I don’t know…”

The woman placed a hand on my arm, her touch cold despite the warmth of the bar. “You’ve got it, trust me. We’ve got a studio just outside town. Free shoot, no strings attached. Just to see if you’d be a good fit.”

I hesitated, playing my part. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” the man said, his tone dripping with fake enthusiasm. “Fresh faces. Untapped potential.”

I looked between them, feigning a mix of doubt and intrigue. “Alright. Why not?”

The woman clapped her hands together, her smile too wide. “Fantastic. Let’s head out.”

I glanced toward the exit briefly, knowing Dean was just outside, then picked up my bag and followed them out of the bar. As we walked to their car, I caught Sam’s reflection in the bar mirror. His jaw was tight, his fingers twitching, ready to act if needed.

The couple led me to a black sedan parked a few spaces away. The man opened the back door for me, gesturing for me to get in.

I climbed in, clutching my bag tightly. The moment the door shut, I felt the weight of their eyes on me, and I forced myself to focus. This was just the beginning. Dean and Sam wouldn’t be far. Whatever came next, I wasn’t alone—even if I had to act like I was.

I sat in the back of the black sedan, watching as the town disappeared behind us. The ride was long, the demons making small talk, keeping up their act as professional talent scouts. I played along, feigning excitement and nervousness, while my mind stayed focused on the mission.

The farmhouse they took me to was beautiful, the kind of place that would make anyone believe this was a legitimate opportunity. Inside, they led me to a professional-looking studio, complete with backdrops, bright lights, and a rack of designer clothes.

For two hours, they ran the whole con—switching my outfits, styling my hair, touching up my makeup. They directed me through various poses, snapping pictures as if this was just another day in the life of a budding model. It was almost impressive how much effort they put into the charade. Almost.

At the end of it, they smiled, nodding approvingly.

“You’re perfect,” the woman cooed, brushing a stray curl from my face.

“Absolutely,” the man agreed. “We’ll put you up for the night, and first thing in the morning, someone will take you to New York to sign the contracts.”

I widened my eyes in fake excitement. “Really? Oh my god, this is insane!”

The woman smiled. “I know. You’ll be a star.”

They led me to a cozy-looking bedroom, complete with a plush bed and a window overlooking the fields. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, I dropped the act.

I moved cautiously, making sure I wasn’t being watched. Then, I pulled out my phone and typed a message to Dean and Sam.

Demons running a long con. Getting people out of town with the modeling scam. They plan to move me to NYC in the morning. No sign of the other victims yet. What’s the plan?

Dean’s reply was almost instant.

We’re pulling you out. Letting Bobby know their next stop. Sit tight. We’re coming.

I let out a slow breath. Good. I had no doubt they’d come for me, but still, something in my gut felt off.

…

Dean and Sam broke into the house as quietly as possible. The plan was simple—get in, take the demons by surprise, and get out before anyone knew what hit them.

But something went wrong.

I heard the scuffle from my room—the heavy thuds of bodies colliding, the crash of furniture breaking. My heart pounded as I cracked the door open just in time to see Sam wrestling the female demon, chanting an exorcism.

And then I saw Dean.

Or rather, I saw the way his body jerked unnaturally, his back arching as the male demon forced its way inside him. His green eyes flashed black.

My breath caught in my throat. “No.”

He turned his head slowly, those black eyes locking onto me with a cruel smirk. “Well, well,” the demon purred, rolling Dean’s shoulders like he was settling into a new suit. “This is… cozy.”

“Dean.” My voice shook. “I know you’re in there. You have to fight it.”

The demon laughed, stepping closer. “Oh sweetheart, he’s fighting all right. But he won’t win.”

Sam had finished his exorcism, the female demon shrieking as she burned away. Now he turned to me, panic in his eyes.

“Y/N, get back!”

But I couldn’t move. Not when Dean’s possessed body lunged at me.

I barely had time to react before I was pinned against his chest, held between Dean and Sam. Deans hunting knife was held to my throat. I was looking at Sam as tears pricked my eyes.

I gasped, clawing at his wrist, my heart hammering. “Dean,” I choked out. “Please… you can fight this.”

His grip faltered for the briefest second, his expression twisting in pain. “Y/N…” Dean’s voice broke through, hoarse and strained.

The demon snarled, trying to regain control, but I felt the flicker of resistance in Dean’s arms.

“That’s it,” I whispered. “You’re stronger than him. You’re stronger.”

Dean clenched his jaw, his whole body shaking as he fought the demon inside him. Then, with an agonized roar, his head snapped back, and a thick cloud of black smoke erupted from his mouth, disappearing through the nearest vent.

Dean collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

I didn’t hesitate. I dropped down beside him, wrapping my arms around him in a tight, desperate hug. “I thought I was gonna lose you,” I sobbed, clutching onto him like he might disappear.

He exhaled shakily, his arms circling me just as tightly. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

…

Back at the abandoned house, we packed up in silence, the weight of the failed hunt pressing down on us.

Sam was on the phone with Bobby, explaining what had happened, his voice tight with frustration. “One got away… Yeah, we’ll head back to the bunker…can we talk about this later”

I sat in the Impala, my hands still trembling slightly. The reality of what had happened hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Dean had almost—

I shook my head, shutting the thought down. He was here. He was okay.

Dean slid into the backseat beside me, pulling me against him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured.

I let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, well. Watching you get possessed kinda does that to a girl.”

His arms tightened around me, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my hair. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

I nodded, closing my eyes as the Impala rumbled to life.

The road stretched ahead of us, a long 17 hours back to the bunker. But for now, I let myself breathe, let myself believe that, at least for the moment, we were safe.