The Amount Of Awkward I Feel Cannot Be Accurately Quantified Right Now. I'm Currently Sitting On A Bus

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 5

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

3.5k word count

Summary The part in which the hunt goes terribly wrong and you can't wait to be rid of The Winchesters.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, slow-burn

Warnings mention and description of death, and physical assault.

Note: This chapter is slightly shorter than normal but it ended exactly how I wanted it to end. Also sorry not sorry for the ending. By no means is this the end of the tale, however!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Dean stepped out of Theresa's house, the creaking wooden porch echoing beneath his boots. The crisp evening air greeted him as he closed the door behind him. I had spent four hours daydreaming, staring at the dying grass, happily ignoring the existence of the Winchesters.

"Hey, y/n," Dean said, his voice carrying a mix of determination and weariness. "Is the truck ready to hit the road?"

A flicker of pride danced in Dean's eyes. "Yeah, she's purring like a kitten again. We're good to go."

"Then what's holding you back?" I asked, sensing there was more to Dean's hesitation.

Dean sighed, the weight of the hunt evident in the furrow of his brow. "Thing is, Sam and I figured we'd wait until nightfall before we make our move. The less attention we draw, the better."

I understood his reasoning. In the world of hunters and hunted, stealth was often our greatest ally. "Playing it safe. Smart move."

Dean nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well, you know how it goes. Better safe than sorry."

The evening cast long shadows across the front of Theresa's house as Dean joined me on the steps, a palpable tension hanging in the air. I wanted, in that moment, to move away from Dean—to stand up and run away, to hide in Theresa's house while waiting for night to fall. And yet, at the same time, I wanted to move closer to him, fall into his arms, rest against his warm, chiseled chest. I wanted to hold on to him and never let go.

Leaning back against the weathered wood, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Hey, you've been kinda all over the place and distant today. Everything okay?"

I shifted uncomfortably, my gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for the right words. "Yeah, I'm fine, Dean. Just... thinking."

Dean arched an eyebrow, not convinced by my response. "Come on, don't give me that. I can tell something's been bothering you. You've been acting off all day."

The words weighed heavily on my tongue as I gathered the courage to speak up. "Dean, last night... I overheard your conversation with Sam," I began, my voice trembling slightly.

His reaction was a mix of surprise and concern, his green eyes searching mine for any hint of what I might have heard. "And... what did you hear?"

Taking a deep breath, I recounted the painful revelation. "Sam mentioned how he feels like I'm a distraction to you, that I might be holding you back from focusing on the hunt. And you said you'd get over me, forget about me, once you’re back in the US."

Dean's expression darkened with guilt, and I immediately regretted bringing up such a sensitive topic. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. It wasn’t fair to you."

I shook my head, reaching out to reassure him. I placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dean. I understand. You and Sam have your own worries, your own struggles. I just wanted to be honest about what I overheard."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want you to ever feel like you're just a distraction, because you're not. You're a valuable member of the team, and I'm glad you're here with us."

"Do you see me as just a part of the team, another hunter, and nothing more?" I blurted out, the question hanging heavily between us.

Dean's expression softened, his eyes searching mine with a depth of emotion that took me by surprise. "No, of course not. You're more than that, you know?" He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. "You’re important to me, y/n. More than just a team member."

A mix of relief and vulnerability washed over me as I looked at him, the weight of unspoken feelings suddenly feeling a bit lighter. "I... I’m glad to hear that."

Dean gave me a small, reassuring smile, and we fell into a companionable silence, the tension easing as the evening shadows deepened. The night was coming, and with it, a new chapter of our hunt—and perhaps, a new understanding of what lay between us.

I furrowed my brow, uncertain of his meaning. "What do you mean?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Dean's lips as he spoke. "You're family, just like Sam and me. We've been through a lot together, and that means something. It means you're not just another hunter to us. You're someone we care about, someone we trust."

"It seems like Sam doesn't fully trust me," I said, my voice tinged with frustration and concern.

Dean's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Sam's always been cautious around new people, especially after everything we've been through. It's nothing personal, trust me."

His reassurance was comforting, but there was another question burning inside me, one I couldn’t ignore any longer.

"And what about you, Dean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "How do you feel about me? Do you... have feelings for me?"

Dean's gaze softened, his features betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I... I care about you, more than I probably should. You're brave and strong, and... damn it, you've saved our asses more times than I can count."

I held my breath, waiting for him to continue, to reveal the depths of his feelings.

"But..." Dean hesitated, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. "I don’t know if it’s... more than that. I don’t know if I can allow myself to feel that way, considering everything else that's going on."

His words stung, a pang of disappointment twisting in my chest. But I understood his reluctance, his fear of opening himself up to potential pain and loss.

"It’s okay, Dean," I said, forcing a smile despite the ache in my heart. "I understand."

I forced myself up from where I was sitting and made my way back inside. Stepping into the cool interior of Theresa's house, I welcomed the quiet, seeking refuge from the intensity of the conversation with Dean.

Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm raging within me. The air was thick with uncertainty, each breath a struggle against the weight of my own conflicted feelings.

Outside, Dean's voice drifted through the open window, a constant reminder of the tangled mess I found myself in. But I couldn't face him right now. Not when every moment spent in his presence only deepened the confusion in my heart.

Instead of letting my mind wander, I honed in on the task ahead. All I wanted was to banish the ghost, end this nightmare, and send Dean back to the States where he belonged. With a determined sigh, I pushed aside my doubts and fears, steeling myself for the battle to come. I had a job to do, and nothing—not even the tangled mess of emotions swirling around Dean—would stand in my way.

As I prepared to face the darkness outside, a silent vow echoed in the recesses of my mind: I would banish the ghost, send Dean packing, and finally close this chapter of my life once and for all.

By the time I had pulled myself together enough to face the Winchesters again, night had fallen. The brothers were busy making plans with Theresa on how to retrieve the cursed pole from the scrapyard and bring it back to burn in her yard. Theresa, however, was stuck on how they planned to actually burn the pole, barely listening to the rest of the plan.

"While you do that, I’m going to hang by the pool and make sure your pole burning actually works," I said, moving toward my car.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Dean jogged over, placing a hand on my car door to stop me from leaving. "You’re not going alone. What if the spirit decides to go after you?"

"And why would the spirit come after me? Could it be because your dear brother sees me as a massive burden on you, and in turn, on him?" I crossed my arms, glaring over Dean’s shoulder at Sam, who simply huffed and rolled his eyes. "Who better to draw the spirit out and make sure it’s gone for good?"

"Exactly. I’ll come with you. Theresa can go with Sam," Dean said, glancing back at them. "I need to make sure you’re safe."

I rolled my eyes, shoved Dean’s hand out of the way, and climbed into the car. I started it up, revving the engine. Before I could make my escape, Dean dashed around to the other side of the car and jumped in. Sam got into their car, and Theresa hopped into the ute parked in front of her house. We parted ways—Theresa and Sam heading towards the junkyard, while Dean and I drove in awkward silence toward the pool. Sure, I was probably being reckless, but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted the Winchesters out of my life for good.

I could see Dean out of the corner of my eye, opening and closing his mouth, fidgeting in his seat like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I pulled into the pool parking lot, stopping directly in front of the entry doors. I turned off the car, pocketed the keys, and exited before Dean could react.

Having broken into the pool countless times during my high school days, I knew about the hole someone had cut in the less secure side fence behind the building housing the outdoor pool pumps. Dean didn’t know this. Before he could register what was happening or even get out of the car, I locked it, smiled at him through the window, waved quickly, and bolted. I knew Dean was familiar with the Impala’s inner workings, so it wouldn’t take him long to unlock the door. But I used my head start to duck into the bushes along the side of the pool, hoping his size would slow him down or force him to take the long way around the building.

It took me less than five minutes to reach the hole in the fence. As I slipped through, my forearm caught on a sharp wire that hadn’t been cut back, and I felt warm blood trickling down my arm. Cursing under my breath, I checked the damage—a decent four-centimeter gash that might need stitches, but nothing that couldn’t wait.

Inside the building, I wandered around before settling in the adults-only area of the pool, which offered a good view of most of the interior. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick message to Theresa to check on their progress. The building was eerily quiet, so I allowed myself to relax, lying back on one of the sun chairs. If the spirit decided to make a move or if Dean entered the building, I’d hear it. Just a few more hours, and I’d be rid of the Winchesters for good.

I’d already made mental plans during the day—after this, I’d hit the road and head toward the Sunshine Coast, where there was a possible vampire nest that needed investigating. All I needed was the green light that the spirit was gone, and I’d be out of here.

As if reading my mind, my phone began to ring, jolting me back to reality. I cursed under my breath as I answered.

“Theresa, you better have a good reason for scaring the life out of me,” I nearly yelled into the phone.

“Sorry, Dean wasn’t answering,” Theresa replied quickly. “Anyway, we’ve got the pole and we’re headed back to my place. Sam thinks he’s figured out a way to not exactly burn the pole, but to burn anything that might be inside it.”

“Great. Let me know when it’s done; all is quiet here,” I sighed, glancing around the eerily silent building.

“Okay, will do.”

As Theresa hung up, I stood and began to check the building. It was strange that I’d been sitting here for so long, and yet Dean hadn’t made it inside. Part of me worried that something had happened to him, but another part couldn’t help but hope he was still stuck in the car. I made my way toward the front doors, figuring I should be able to see straight into my car from there.

I walked between the pools and the adults-only balcony, heading for the ramp that led to the front door and the changing rooms. I kept my eyes peeled, just in case Dean had managed to slip inside before I got there. A flicker of guilt tugged at me—maybe he really was trapped in the car without a way out—but then again, a part of me thought he kind of deserved it. Or worse, maybe he had decided I deserved to be alone in the building, which would be a clear sign that he had no feelings for me at all.

As I crept past the changing rooms, I glanced inside. Both were as empty and eerie as the rest of the building. Standing outside the changing rooms, where the ramp doubled back on itself toward the reception area, I realized I couldn’t see my Impala from this angle. For a moment, a wild thought crossed my mind—what if Dean had hot-wired it and driven off, leaving me here? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d deserved something like that.

I continued up the ramp, stealing one last glance into the pool area, which remained as empty as when I’d left it. When I finally turned back to the reception area, I could see the front doors and my Impala parked exactly where I’d left it—except Dean was no longer inside.

“Dean?” I called out into the empty building.

Silence greeted me. I turned away from the door, back toward the reception desk. There were only so many places he could be hiding if he’d made it inside, and I should have heard him the moment he entered. After all, those boots of his were loud and distinctive.

"Dean," I called out again, my voice echoing through the empty building as I moved toward the office space behind the reception desk. I navigated behind the counter, heading for the first of the three small offices. Each space was identical: a desk, a chair, some boxes—typical office clutter. A quick glance was all it took to confirm they were empty.

After closing the door to the third office, I turned around—and nearly ran into something.

“Jesus, Dean!” I gasped, stumbling back with my hand clutching my chest. “How are you so quiet?”

I looked up at him, but something was off. Dean’s expression was void of any emotion, his eyes vacant. This wasn’t Dean anymore. Deep down, I knew the spirit had possessed him—but why?

Without thinking, I bolted toward the pool area, fumbling to pull out my phone to call Sam and Theresa.

“Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” The voice that came from Dean wasn’t his; it was deeper, darker, like something from a nightmare.

The sheer malice in his tone startled me so badly that I tripped, sending my phone flying down the ramp. It smashed against the wall between the changing rooms, shattering into pieces. I scrambled to gather the remnants, but the damage was done. My phone was beyond repair.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Dean—or the thing inside him—standing at the top of the ramp, watching me. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted toward the pools, my only thought to stay out of his reach until Sam and Theresa could burn the cursed pole. It had to have been at least 20 minutes since I last spoke to them; they should have been done by now.

I ducked between the pools, making a beeline for the adults-only balcony, praying that putting some distance and a fence between us might buy me a few precious moments. I raced up the stairs and slammed the gate shut behind me, shoving the nearest sun chair against it. Desperately, I grabbed another chair, but before I could secure it, Dean appeared at the top of the steps, a dark, chilling laugh escaping his lips. The kind of laugh that didn’t belong in real life, but in a horror movie.

"Oh, sweetheart, do you really think a couple of chairs in front of a gate is going to stop me?" His voice was laced with malice, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ve already begun to think of all the ways your precious Dean could end you.”

“W-why? Why Dean?” I stammered, fear choking my voice.

“Why? Because you’re nothing but a distraction to Dean. So why not Dean? Why not give him the push he needs to remove the biggest pain in the ass in his life?” Dean—or rather, the spirit—yelled, pointing a finger violently in my direction. “It’s all right here in Dean’s head. You haunt his every waking thought. From the moment he first met you, he’s been distracted by the mere thought of you. He’s almost gotten Sam killed, gotten himself killed, all because of you. So why not have him remove the problem? Doesn’t it seem fitting?”

An evil, inhuman grin spread across Dean’s face. In a matter of seconds, the grin vanished as he smashed through the gate. I stood frozen in place, paralyzed by the horror of what he’d just said.

In a few quick strides, Dean closed the distance between us. His hand clamped around my throat, lifting me off the ground and pinning me against the wall. My eyes widened as I caught a brief flicker of recognition in his eyes—Dean was fighting to regain control—but the spirit quickly overpowered him.

Dean’s grip tightened around my throat. I clawed at his hand, gasping for air as the world began to blur. He leaned in close, his face inches from mine.

"Let's make this fun, shall we?" Dean's breath was hot against my face, laced with a twisted cruelty that didn’t belong to him.

Before I could react, Dean hurled me clear across the balcony. My body slammed into the glass wall on the opposite side with such force that I heard it crack. I barely had time to register the pain before he was on top of me again, yanking me up and slamming my back against the railing. The sound of glass shattering and falling to the ground below filled the air. I silently prayed that any second now, the pole would be burnt and the spirit would be gone. I just had to hold on.

"Sorry, Dean," I muttered, summoning every ounce of strength I had left. I kicked him hard between the legs.

He dropped me, stumbling back in pain. It was my only chance. Without hesitation, I slid through the broken glass wall, but I misjudged the height of the drop. Instead of landing on the down ramp, I plummeted to the lower level. Pain shot through me as I hit the ground, a sickening pop signaling that my ankle was dislocated.

Desperate, I began crawling, ignoring the sharp sting of broken glass slicing into my hands and knees. The chlorinated water on the floor seeped into the cuts, intensifying the agony. Behind me, I could hear the unmistakable sound of Dean’s boots on the cement floor—he had recovered quickly, too quickly.

"Now, now, Y/N. I'm going to make you regret that decision," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

A sharp, unbearable pain shot through my arm as Dean's boot came down on it, a loud crack echoing through the room. A bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat, but it only seemed to fuel the spirit's sadistic pleasure. Dean's hand tangled in my hair, yanking me across the floor toward the edge of the wave pool. Still clutching my hair, he lifted me and dropped me into the pool's deep end.

I knew I was in trouble. With my dislocated ankle and broken arm, there was no way I could swim back up. Even if I somehow managed to push off the bottom, Dean would just shove me under again. As I sank, I looked up at Dean’s wavy silhouette, his figure distorted by the water. My lungs burned, begging for air, but I couldn’t reach the surface. My foot brushed the bottom of the pool as the edges of my vision started to go black. This was it—the end. A strange sense of relief washed over me. Relief that Dean would no longer have to worry about me, that Sam could finally be free of his burden, and that my parents would no longer have to deal with their problem child.

Just as the darkness closed in, I saw a bright flash of light above me. Dean's silhouette crumpled to the ground, and then everything went black.

Oh no mistakes were made! Tumblr what have you done to me!!!! I confidently finished and submitted my Web Design assignment only to then go back and look at the Tumblr screenshot I used for my example and welp....

I am mortified! My Uni assignment has now been smut bombed and by Eddie Munson none the less!

Objection!

I did have a song but I can't for the life of me remember what it was so I'm starting from scratch. I don't want to give too much away as to what I'm using the song for but please throw me your suggestions.

Updates!

So this morning I woke to the news I have been redundant. The daycare I worked at has been shut down so I spent the day writing instead. So for the next week this is what we're looking at.

Tomorrow: Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 6

Thursday 23rd: The Dating Oddessey: Jonathan (final part)

Saturday 25th: Spencer Reid x Reader fic part 1

Monday 27th: Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 7

Wednesday 29th: Spencer Reid x Reader fic part 2

I have SHLL Part 6 already ready to go and have The Dating Oddessey half written. My Spencer x Reader story is one I wrote ages ago that I'm going to be fixing up and reposting it's currently titled So Whose the Father but I think I'm going to retitle it. It will only be 3 Parts.

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.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 13

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Night had settled, and the house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old floorboards. Dean and I lay tangled together in his bed, the dim light from the lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. The familiar scent of leather and gun oil mingled with the faint crispness of the night air wafting through the open window.

Dean was propped up on one elbow, his other arm draped casually across my waist. His fingers idly traced patterns on my hip as we talked about the plan for the next day. Sam had found another hunt—something about a possible poltergeist in Kansas—and we’d decided to hit the road first thing in the morning.

“Back to business as usual, huh?” I murmured, my voice low to match the stillness of the night.

Dean’s lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah, except now I’ve got you riding shotgun and no excuses to pretend I don’t want you there.”

I chuckled softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Better not make me regret it, Winchester.”

His hand paused for a moment, then he tipped his head down to kiss my forehead. “Not a chance.”

The quiet that followed was comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days. I was just about to close my eyes when the unmistakable sound of fluttering wings filled the room.

Dean and I both sat bolt upright, and there, at the foot of the bed, stood Castiel. His piercing blue eyes flicked between us, and his brow furrowed deeply, his usual stoic demeanor replaced with what could only be described as confusion—and maybe a hint of disapproval.

“You’re in the same bed,” Castiel said, his tone blunt and unfiltered, as always. “This is… unexpected.”

Dean groaned, running a hand down his face. “Cas, seriously? You ever heard of knocking? Or I don’t know, not teleporting into people’s bedrooms?”

Castiel ignored him, his gaze fixed on me now, as though he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “I’ve been speaking with God,” he said gravely, “and He is… displeased.”

That got Dean’s attention. His jaw tightened, and he straightened up, his voice laced with irritation. “Displeased about what, exactly?”

Cas shifted uncomfortably, his trench coat rustling as he crossed his arms. “You and Y/N,” he said simply. “You are disrupting His plans.”

I blinked, my brain struggling to keep up. “Disrupting His plans? What does that even mean?”

Cas took a step closer, his expression more serious than usual. “God’s plan for you, Dean, and for you, Y/N, did not involve this... union.” He gestured vaguely at the bed, as though the sight of us there was evidence enough. “Your relationship is altering the trajectory of His design.”

Dean let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re telling me that God’s got a problem with me finally being happy? That’s rich, Cas. Real rich.”

“It’s not about happiness,” Cas replied, his tone more urgent now. “It’s about purpose. Your paths were meant to remain parallel, not intersect.”

Dean scoffed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up, squaring off with the angel. “Yeah, well, maybe God’s plans suck, Cas. Ever think of that? Maybe we’re done playing by His rules.”

Cas tilted his head, looking genuinely perplexed. “You would defy God’s will for this?”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he glanced back at me before answering. “For her? Yeah, I would.”

The weight of his words hit me like a freight train, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I stood up beside him, crossing my arms as I faced Cas. “If we’re ruining God’s plans, maybe it’s because they weren’t the right ones to begin with.”

Cas regarded us both for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, a rare and almost human sound. “You’re treading dangerous ground,” he warned. “God does not take kindly to deviations.”

Dean stepped closer, his voice firm. “Tell Him we’re not His puppets. If He’s got a problem, He knows where to find me.”

Cas looked at him, then at me, a flicker of something—doubt? Worry?—crossing his face. Without another word, he disappeared in a rustle of wings, leaving us standing there in the quiet room.

Dean turned to me, his hand finding mine. “You okay?”

I nodded, though my heart was still racing. “Are you?”

He smirked, pulling me closer. “Cas can tell God whatever he wants. You and me? That’s the plan I’m sticking to.”

I smiled despite the lingering unease. Whatever storm was brewing, we’d face it together.

The next morning, the Impala roared to life, the familiar rumble filling the air as we hit the road toward Kansas. Dean’s hands gripped the wheel, his movements effortless as he navigated the open road. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the horizon.

Sam was in the backseat, a stack of papers balanced on his lap as he rattled off details about the case. “Any family that moves in moves back out again within about a month—objects moving on their own, cold spots, and what sounds like footsteps in the attic. A couple of classic poltergeist markers. No deaths so far.”

Theresa leaned against the window, arms crossed, nodding along. “And you’re sure it’s not just residual energy? Last time, we wasted a whole day on what turned out to be a faulty HVAC system.”

Sam shot her a look. “Pretty sure. There’s also been some whispering voices and a mirror shattering. That’s not exactly a draft.”

I sat in the passenger seat, staring out at the passing scenery, barely listening. Castiel’s words from the night before kept echoing in my mind: Your relationship is altering the trajectory of His design. I tried to push it away, but the weight of it lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

Dean’s voice pulled me out of my spiral. “You okay, sweetheart?”

I blinked, glancing over at him. His green eyes flicked from the road to me, concern etched into his expression. He’d always had a way of seeing right through me, even when I tried to hide it.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? ‘Cause you’ve been quiet. And not the good kind of quiet—like, something’s on your mind kind of quiet.”

Theresa leaned forward slightly from the back, peering over Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve been zoning out since we left Bobby’s. Everything okay?”

I hesitated, glancing back at Sam and Theresa before looking at Dean. “It’s nothing,” I said finally, but my voice lacked conviction.

Dean’s hand shifted on the wheel, his knuckles brushing against mine in a brief but grounding touch. “If it’s nothing, why are you chewing on it like it’s gonna bite back?”

Sam sighed from the back, folding the papers in his hands. “This about Castiel?” Dean asked.

I tensed, and Dean’s jaw tightened. “Cas? What about him?” Sam asked.

I exhaled, knowing I wasn’t going to get out of this. “It’s just… what he said last night. About us messing up God’s plans.”

Dean snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, God’s plans haven’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows, have they? You think I care what He thinks about us?”

“I know,” I said softly. “But it’s not that simple, Dean. What if—”

Dean cut me off, his voice firm but not unkind. “No. There’s no ‘what if.’ You and me? That’s not up for debate. Not for God, not for Cas, not for anyone.”

Theresa leaned back in her seat, her expression thoughtful. “Look, I’m not exactly Team God either, but maybe there’s something to it. If Cas thinks it’s important enough to show up, it’s worth considering.”

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Yeah, well, considering doesn’t mean worrying yourself sick over it. Cas said his piece, and we said ours. End of story.”

Sam, ever the peacemaker, chimed in. “I get where you’re coming from, Y/N. But Dean’s right—God’s plans haven’t exactly worked out for us in the past. Maybe it’s time we make our own.”

I looked out the window again, the Kansas plains stretching endlessly before us. Dean’s hand reached over, resting briefly on my knee.

“You’re with me, right?” he asked quietly, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded, the knot in my chest loosening just a little. “Always.”

He smiled, and for a moment, the weight of Castiel’s words seemed lighter. Whatever lay ahead, I wasn’t facing it alone.

The motel room was as bland as they came—beige walls, worn-out carpet, and a bed that creaked if you so much as breathed wrong. But after a long day of nothing but mold inspections and realizing the supposed "haunting" was a total bust, it felt like a luxury. The air still carried a faint scent of bleach from when housekeeping had gone over the room earlier, but at least it was clean.

Sam and Theresa had decided to make the most of the free evening, heading out to a local diner that Sam had claimed made "the best pie in Kansas." Dean had scoffed at the idea of any pie being better than the ones at a certain diner three states over, but he didn’t argue when Sam handed him the room key and said they’d be back later.

Dean and I had opted to stay in, the lure of a quiet night too tempting after the day’s events. Now, we were curled up in bed, the flickering glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. Dean had one arm around me, his other hand resting lazily on the remote as he channel-surfed through a lineup of mostly forgettable shows.

“Is it just me,” he murmured, “or is TV getting worse?”

I mumbled something incoherent in response, half-asleep against his chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing, combined with the low hum of the TV, had lulled me into a state of complete relaxation. My hand rested lightly on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath he took.

Dean glanced down at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Guess you’re not gonna weigh in on the great TV debate, huh?”

I didn’t answer, already lost to sleep. Dean chuckled softly, his thumb brushing against my shoulder as he turned his attention back to the screen. Some old western was playing, the kind with over-the-top gunfights and dramatic music. It wasn’t exactly gripping, but it was enough to keep him entertained.

The room was peaceful, the kind of quiet that rarely came in our line of work. Dean leaned back against the headboard, feeling the rare comfort of contentment as he listened to my soft, even breathing.

Then came the unmistakable sound of feathers.

Dean’s entire body tensed as the fluttering noise filled the room, disrupting the calm like a ripple through still water. He glanced down at me, relieved to see I was still fast asleep, before his eyes darted toward the foot of the bed.

And there he was—Castiel, standing stiffly in his trench coat, his blue eyes locked on Dean with the same intensity they always carried.

Dean sighed heavily, careful not to wake me as he shifted to sit up straighter. “Really, Cas? You couldn’t wait until morning?”

Castiel’s gaze flicked from Dean to me, his expression a mix of curiosity and something that might have been disapproval. “I have news,” he said simply, his voice as gravelly and direct as ever.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath before looking back at the angel. “Can it wait? She’s finally sleeping.”

Cas didn’t answer, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned his full attention back to Dean. “No. It cannot wait.”

Dean sighed again, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Of course it can’t.”

The TV droned on in the background, the light from the screen casting a faint glow over the room as the scene faded into silence, leaving only the weight of whatever news Castiel had brought hanging in the air.

Bobby coming up to Buck's side and Buck was holding his head wound*

BOBBY: Kid, What the hell happened

BUCK: See that pole?

BOBBY: yeah..

BUCK: I didn't

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.

Guess who just deleted the entire Masterlist for Supernatural Hunting Living and Love. Yep my tired ass clicked delete instead of edit. All I wanted to do was update the list!

Objection! Part 5

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For months the days where just as busy as that first day. Some days were filled with paperwork, some days were spent entirely at the courthouse. More and more I was working independently of Rafael only crossing paths briefly to hand off files or to discuss a case. Rafael had even organised me my own office. As much as I enjoyed the newfound freedom within the DA’s office, I was also missing being so close to Rafael. We still had a little meetings, casual lunches and nights out with the SVU team, but it became less of us and more the whole team.

Finally, a case came up that allowed me to work closely with Rafael again. What started as a runaway with no connection to SVU and turned into a possible stranger abduction had become a massive manhunt for a yet unknown person who was enjoying taunting Rafael in the form of letters with clues which to places with more clues that lead to dead ends. 2 months and hundreds of mans hours had been put into finding this person and we were still no closer. No name, no witnesses, no evidence and 7 missing teenagers. We had rearranged the entire SVU pull pen pushing all tables to the sides and filling the middle of the room with drawing boards. I was currently sat staring at the clues we had been sent. The first ever letter we received from this guy told us that we would find the missing teen just by following his clues. Yet all the clues had led to dead ends. Something wasn’t adding up, something didn’t make sense.

“Y/n we have to go update the mayor” Rafael said coming to a stop next to me.

“Yeah, yeah coming”

“You’ve been staring at these notes for ages” Rafael sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Somethings bothering me about them. I feel like we’ve missed something” I say eyes not leaving the boards in front of me.

“You’ve been working for almost 40 hours, lets update the mayor then you can go home and get some sleep.” Rafael held out a hand to help me up.

I took Rafael’s hand and stood, though my eyes lingered on the boards a second longer. The sketches, cryptic letters, and scribbled coordinates seemed to mock me, each taunt from our unknown suspect ringing louder in my mind. But he was right—I needed a clear head if I was going to see whatever was lurking in the details.

As we made our way to the mayor's office, I replayed the clues in my mind, hoping a fresh perspective or a conversation might help connect the dots. This case had turned into something personal for everyone involved, especially for Rafael, whose frustration was mounting with each letter that slipped through our fingers and led to nothing.

In the elevator, he broke the silence. “You know, we’re close. I can feel it.”

I glanced at him, seeing the exhaustion mirrored in his expression. But there was something else too—a simmering determination that made me feel as if we were on the brink of a breakthrough.

“You think he’s messing with us on purpose?” I asked, voicing a theory that had been nagging me.

“Absolutely. He’s got a plan,” Rafael said, his jaw tight. “And he wants us chasing our tails.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal the marble hall leading to the mayor’s office, but before we could step out, Rafael's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his face darkened.

“It’s another message.”

A chill ran down my spine as he opened the new text. Another cryptic line: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes." It was as if the perpetrator could sense our frustration, even knew that we were about to speak with the mayor.

“Another clue,” I whispered, looking over Rafael’s shoulder. But something was different this time. The tone—it wasn’t taunting. It was almost... instructional.

Rafael took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Looks like we’re not going home anytime soon.”

“No,” I said, a spark of determination reigniting. “But I think we’re finally starting to understand his game.”

As we turned back toward the precinct, abandoning the meeting with the mayor, my exhaustion melted into resolve. I’d follow every hint, trace every step. This time, I was determined to beat him at his own game.

…

The precinct was quiet, nearly deserted, with only the faint hum of overhead lights filling the silence. Midnight was approaching, and most of the team had taken off for a quick break. Olivia and Rafael had left to grab food for everyone, Amanda was somewhere in the break room nursing yet another coffee, and Sonny was curled up in the bunk room, catching some much-needed rest. Finn had gone out hours ago to chase down a lead.

I sat in front of the board, staring at the latest clue we’d pinned up: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes."

A familiar presence broke the silence beside me as Nick ambled over, arms crossed, eyes scanning the chaotic tangle of clues, locations, and scrawled notes we’d collected over the past two months. He’d been watching me closely for a while, occasionally throwing out theories, but mostly letting me sift through my own thoughts.

“Still chewing on that one?” he asked, tilting his head toward the new clue.

I nodded, barely looking at him. “Yeah. This one’s different. It’s… almost like he’s taunting us less, like he’s trying to lead us to something.”

Nick furrowed his brow, clearly considering it. “Or maybe he’s getting cocky, slipping up a little.”

I tapped my pen against my notebook, scanning the list of locations we’d already searched, the cryptic clues leading us from one dead-end to another. I was exhausted, but something kept gnawing at me, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. We’d been to all these places, followed every lead, yet somehow, I felt like I’d been staring right at the answer without seeing it.

My mind flashed back to the first letter—the one he’d sent that started this whole twisted game. "You'll find them if you look beyond the obvious."

A realization hit me, cold and electric. “Nick,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What if we’ve been overthinking this? Maybe the answer isn’t at the end of some long, winding path—it’s been right in front of us all along.”

Nick leaned in, interest sparking in his eyes. “You think he’s hidden something we’ve overlooked?”

“Yes. Or maybe he’s been hiding in plain sight, knowing we’d miss it because we were too focused on finding something complex.” I scanned the board again, every location we’d been to flickering through my mind. Parks, subway stations, alleys, all public spaces with no clear connection other than being… central.

My eyes widened. “Nick, what if he’s been using these places to form a pattern, like a… map?”

Nick straightened, a gleam of understanding lighting his face. “So you think he’s been leading us in circles—maybe around somewhere specific?”

“Exactly.” I felt my pulse quicken. “I think he’s been taunting us by leading us right around his hiding spot, and he’s getting a thrill out of knowing we haven’t found it. But I need to check, and I can’t explain why just yet.”

I turned to Nick, urgency thickening in my voice. “Come with me. We have to go now, but don’t tell anyone. Not until we’re sure.”

He looked at me, searching my face, his jaw tightening as he weighed my request. Then, without another word, he grabbed his jacket off the back of a nearby chair. “Alright, I’m with you.”

We slipped out of the precinct, moving quickly and quietly down the stairwell and out the back exit. The chill of the night air hit me as we stepped onto the empty street, adrenaline sparking through my veins.

“You have any idea where we’re headed?” he asked as we walked.

I gave him a small smile, my confidence growing. “I do. I just hope I’m right.”

And as we headed toward our destination, a strange sense of clarity washed over me. The missing piece was within reach; I could feel it. This time, we weren’t going to let him slip through our fingers.

The streets were empty as Nick and I navigated our way through the quiet alleys, following my hunch toward one of the oldest and most forgotten parts of New York’s sewer system. With each step, the city above felt more distant, the buildings looming like silent witnesses to our descent. We slipped through an unmarked, rusted gate, making our way down a narrow, crumbling stairwell that reeked of mold and decay. Somewhere ahead of us was an answer—a clue, maybe even one of the missing teens—but right now, every instinct was screaming that this was a mistake.

“Are you sure about this?” Nick murmured as we approached a door at the end of the passage, barely visible in the dim light of my flashlight.

“Positive,” I whispered back, my voice tight with anticipation and dread. The door was dented and corroded, with a single piece of paper pinned to it. I lifted my flashlight, illuminating a simple, handwritten message: Welcome, Rafael Barba.

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the name, the ink bold and deliberate. “He was expecting Rafael,” I whispered, pulling the note down with a trembling hand.

Nick glanced around, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. “Looks like he planned something special.”

I crumpled the note, stuffing it in my pocket. “We’re here now. Let’s see what he had in mind.”

I pushed the door open, and we stepped inside, the smell of damp concrete and rust thickening in the air. Before I could react, the door slammed shut behind us with a heavy clang, echoing through the tunnel as it locked into place. Nick spun around, yanking on the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“It’s locked,” he muttered, frustration flashing in his eyes.

I felt my stomach twist as an unsettling silence settled over us, thick and foreboding. And then, a crackle overhead—a faint hum of static that made my heart pound. Somewhere in the darkness, an intercom system buzzed to life, and a voice filled the room, low and edged with disappointment.

“Well, well,” the voice drawled, with an eerie calmness that sent chills down my spine. “I was expecting Rafael Barba. But instead, he sends his… assistant.” A pause, as if he were savoring the surprise. “Not what I had hoped for. But I suppose you’ll do.”

I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath my fear. “If you wanted Barba, maybe you should’ve faced him directly, instead of hiding behind your little clues.”

The voice chuckled, a cold, amused sound. “You misunderstand, my dear. This was never about facing Barba—it was about creating something he couldn’t ignore. A labyrinth, an elaborate little puzzle designed just for him. I wanted to watch him sweat, watch him chase his own tail. Just like I had to do when I begged him to take my sisters case” He paused, his tone turning playful. “But now, it seems I’ll get to see you and your friend test your wits instead.”

Nick tightened his grip on his flashlight, his jaw clenched. “We’re not playing your game.”

“Oh, but you already are,” the voice purred. “In fact, you’re at the very heart of it.”

I scanned the room, my pulse racing. The walls were lined with passages, each one barely visible in the dim light, twisting and disappearing into darkness. The intercom crackled again, the voice practically dripping with satisfaction.

“I’ve left you a series of clues,” he continued, “if you can find them, that is. Each path you choose will lead you deeper into the labyrinth. Or… to a dead end.” He laughed softly, the sound echoing around us. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even get out alive.”

Nick shot me a look, his expression deadly serious. “What’s the plan, then?”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “We play along. For now. But we stay sharp and look for a way to turn this back on him. He thinks he’s got us trapped, but that’s his first mistake.”

The intercom crackled again. “Tick-tock, Y/N. Time is running out. I’ll be watching—don’t disappoint me.”

The line went silent, leaving us in darkness, with only the soft, persistent drip of water echoing through the tunnels. I gritted my teeth, the weight of the situation sinking in. He wanted a game? We’d give him one he wouldn’t forget.

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