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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind Us - Part 14 - Finale

Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since you were 4 years-old. The monsters that started you on that path had resurfaced, but after taking them out, you ended up in Heaven with an impossible choice; do you stay there or do you go back to the Winchester's? Will the price they pay to keep you be too steep?

Words: 2270

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, 18+ only, sexy times

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT PART NINE PART TEN PART ELEVEN PART TWELVE PART THIRTEEN

Words failed me as I froze, completely still as the water level rose, covering my bottom lip. My eyes locked on his. He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the rim of the tub and squatting down. We were eye to eye now and his emerald orbs bore themselves into me. I felt my heart as though it were sinking through my chest, taking my breath along with it. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I fought hard against them.

It didn’t take long for my eyelids to fail and my tears to start falling down my face. Dean reached forward, catching one with his thumb as he wiped it across my cheek, caressing my face in his palm as he did so.

My breathing was shaky at best as I lowered myself further. I watched as he kicked one leg over the side of the tub followed by the other as he stood in the water, fully clothed.

“Seems we have some talking to do.” His words came out low and muffled as he stepped towards me, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

I shook my head as I closed my eyes, allowing a few more tears to escape. “Can we just,” I hesitated. “Not?”

Dean let out a breath; a sigh filled with equal parts relief and exhaustion. He leaned forward slowly, pressing his forehead against mine as he wound his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him. My arms moved as if on autopilot, winding themselves around his neck as I inhaled the intoxicating aroma that was Dean Winchester. I let out a deep, overwhelming breath as his fingers reached up, running themselves through my hair.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he held me closer, pushing his nose gently against mine, imploring me to open my eyes.

Pulling my eyelids open, I met his gaze, staring into his eyes as what was left of my defenses crumbled. “You left,” I whined, more tears cascading down my cheeks. “You left me.”

He reached his right hand up, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

“I left cause I had to,” he explained. “Not because I wanted to.”

“Your text,” I began.

I felt him shake his head against my own. “I didn’t know what to say to you. How to make sure you wouldn’t follow me.”

“You made a deal,” I sniffled. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

“That’s the last thing I’d want you to do, Y/N.” His hands were on either side of my skull now, cradling my head in desperation.

“I thought...” My sentence trailed off as I tried to pull myself away from him. His arms tightened around me, resisting my attempt.

“Damnit, Y/N.” Dean’s voice grew louder as his eyes focused on me. He leaned forward, quickly capturing my lips with his own. The kiss was rough and demanding. Our lips moved against each other as if we were fighting one another. His tongue brushed against my bottom lip, simultaneously begging for and insisting upon entry. I opened my mouth to him as a gasp escaped my throat. His tongue was soft as he massaged my own. The last flick of the tip of his tongue against my top lip as he withdrew sent shivers through me.

Within seconds, my back was pressed against the cool tile of the tub, and I found myself wrapping my legs around him. He lowered his mouth to my neck, suckling at the all-too-sensitive skin as I moaned out his name. His eyes met mine again; dilated and ravenous. My legs tightened around him as he dropped his right hand down between us. I felt his rough fingertips roaming; caressing my thigh before slowly making their way to my clit, gently circling it as his mouth reclaimed mine once again.

I writhed against him, hungry for more contact and climbing towards my peek. Unwinding my arms from his neck, I tore at the chest of his shirt, tearing the fabric in two and running my fingers across his bare chest.

The pressure of his fingers increased, eliciting another moan as my pleasure mounted and my head fell backwards unbidden. He leaned forward again, claiming my ear with his teeth as he nipped at my lobe. My hands were in his hair now, tugging lightly as my climax continued to build and my breathing became more and more erratic.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, turning my face to his and kissing him passionately, feeling myself teetering on the precipice of my release. He pushed his finger inside me, curling it towards himself as he continued his assault on my clitoris, sending me sailing off as my orgasm overwhelmed me.

I writhed against him, relishing in my high. I brought my head back so that I was eye to eye with him again, his lust blown eyes intent on me. “More,” I crooned, reaching my hand down to his belt as I unclasped it and made quick work of the zipper and button of his soaked denim. His eyes were fixed on me as he watched me hungrily push his clothing off of him, exposing his erection to the direct heat of the water. His legs lifted from the jeans slowly, one after the other, until he was standing naked as well. Nothing but the tattered shreds of his shirt clinging to his biceps and shoulders.

I unlocked my feet from behind his back, feeling his hands wind their way behind me, holding me up to him with one palm on each ass cheek. His lips came crashing against mine once again, devouring me as he leaned his hips forward, entering me. I gasped against his mouth, filled up by him in every way.

He waited a moment before moving, allowing me time to adjust as I relished in the feeling of being completely and utterly claimed by him. His hips rocked against me, plunging himself deeper inside of me than I thought was possible. He withdrew for but a moment before again pushing himself into me. The feeling of him was overwhelming; his name was the only word my lips seemed able to form. My legs trembled at his sides, still coiled around him.

“Look at me,” his words pleaded. I did as he asked, locking my focus back on him as best as I could. Our eyes locked, the rhythm of his hips became quick and hurried. I could feel the pressure building within me.

“Dean.” His name dripped from my mouth like a prayer. He leaned forward, our lips meeting again, consumed with passion and wanting. He groaned into my mouth as I felt his rhythm slow. He broke the kiss, a quick breath escaping his mouth as he stilled.

I leaned my forehead against his, grinding myself against him, hungry for the thrusts that had ceased.

“I’m not done with you just yet.” His words were guttural as he pulled me closer against him, burying himself deeper within me as he stood up fully and lifted me with him, stepping out of the tub.

“Careful,” I pleaded with him as his wet shoes landed on the floor.

“I’ve got you,” he said, plunging himself into me again as he walked, eliciting a moan from my throat.

Within seconds, my back was leaning against the bed and Dean was laying on top of me, the tip of his nose playing with mine. I pulled my head up, pressing my lips against his again. I wrapped my fingers in his hair again, pulling him closer to me.

“Fuck,” he murmured against my lips. I placed my hands on his shoulders, flipping him over until he laid back on the bed and I secured myself on top of him. Rearing back, I sat straight up, basking in the feel of Dean inside of me.

I ground myself against him, watching his eyes roll back as I rocked my hips against him. His hands roamed up my sides, his fingers tweaking at my nipples as he leaned forward and brought his lips to each in turn. His tongue flicked at each sensitive nub, as I arched my back into him. He sat up, tucking his face into the nape of my neck as he encircled me in his arms, thrusting up into me as I rocked back and forth on top of him.

“Slow down, baby,” he begged as I felt him swelling even further inside me.

“No,” I moaned, as I felt myself reaching my peak once more. “Please,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.” He continued moving, thrusting as I swayed above him, relishing in my orgasm as I felt him edging on his own.

“Y/N,” he moaned as I continued moving above him. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me as he reached his peak, whimpering my name as he did. I stilled above him, releasing my hold on his neck as I leaned back to meet his eyes again. His smile quickly spread across his face as his breathing quickened and he planted a quick kiss against my lips.

I rolled to the side, laying on the bed next to him where he quickly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest. I felt the fingers of his right hand as he trailed them up and down my upper arm. I gained more control of my breathing; rational thought breaking through my lust filled haze.

“Dean,” I said, full of melancholy. “We still need to talk through all of this.”

“Uh huh,” he exhaled, a note of hesitance in his tone.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he pulled my waist closer towards him with the other. “But this?” He leaned forward, kissing me and effectively taking my breath away as he did. “This is so much better than talking.”

I put my hand on his chest, pushing him slightly back as I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “Dean,” I whispered.

“Let’s just, not.” He begged me. “Not yet. Can we just sleep? Just for now?” His eyes held an unfamiliar desperation in them. I leaned forward, kissing him chastely and pressing my forehead against his as I nodded. Within minutes, we both fell asleep, entangled in the damp sheets of the bed.

The sun peeked through the windows, waking me unexpectantly. I started sitting up and found myself restricted; Dean’s arm was wrapped across my abdomen as he laid on the bed, his stomach flat against the comforter with his mouth hanging open, a quiet snore escaping his mouth.

I smiled as I laid back down, my eyes locked on his face. His lips twitched as he began to stir. I watched his eyes open as he squinted at me.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling his arm tighter around me as he leaned in and kissed me.

“Hey,” I whispered back. We sat in silence for a minute, neither of us willing to begin the conversation that demanded to be had.

“We should probably talk, huh?” I asked. He sighed, turning his head into his pillow before looking back at me.

“I’d be happy to provide some distraction instead.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, watching him wilt under my stare.

“Y/N,” he began, taking a deep breath. “I had to go. I didn’t have a choice. Jessica had -”

I interrupted him. “I’m not talking about why you left. I get that. You made a deal, you had to uphold your end.”

“There was no welching on this.”

“I know,” I nodded. “I know. But what I don’t get,” I attempted to restrain my irritation. “What I don’t get is why you made the deal in the first place? Why you’d put me in that position? Why you’d leave the way you did? Leave me alone.”

I held back the tears that threatened to crest my eyelids.

“What else could I do, Y/N?” His arms left my side as he turned and laid on his back, his hands in his hair. “I was going to lose you. How was I supposed to do that?”

“Dean,” I crooned, scooting myself closer to him until I was laying on top of him. “You were never going to lose me.”

He looked at me quizzically.

I chuckled slightly, smiling down at him. “Yeah,” I began. “I was in heaven. I was with my parents, and It was everything I’d ever wanted.” He sighed in response. “But I also had a choice. Stay or go. I wasn’t dead, Dean. I had already decided.” His blank stare let me know that he wasn’t following. “Dean, I wasn’t staying in heaven. I was coming back to you before Jessica even showed up.”

There was a pregnant silence and I held myself together, keeping my laughter at bay. He looked at me with a smile. “Wait, so...the deal...”

“Was completely unnecessary.”

He wrapped his arms around me again, turning me over so that I laid down on my back, him hovering over me. “So, this was all my fault then, huh?”

I nodded in response. “No patience.” I told him, rubbing my nose against his.

“I don’t want to be patient,” he said before lowering his lips to my ear. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.” His lips surrounded mine, as we fell into each other, entwined in each-other's arms. “Your mine.” He said the words as if they were a question, his eyes pleading me for an affirmative answer.

“Always.”

The End

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind Us - Part 13

Words: 2230

Warnings: Angst, death of a character

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT PART NINE PART TEN PART ELEVEN PART TWELVE

I crouched down onto the dirty tile floor of the motel bathroom with the can of black spray paint clutched in my hand. I went to work immediately; painting the symbols of the trap in as accurate detail as I could remember.

“Sam,” I called out into the living area, louder than I had intended. I heard his guttural reply as he poked his head in the door, disapprovingly. “Is this right?”

He glowered at me momentarily before giving me a curt nod in the affirmative.

“Thanks, Samuel.” There was a bitterness in my tone that was entirely intentional. He hadn’t kept his feelings on the matter quiet. Especially when I rooted around in the back of the Impala, disorganizing everything as I pulled out the hemlock along with my old switchblade and a silver crucifix Dean had kept tucked away in the back.

“You’re putting everything back exactly where you found it, Y/N. Whether it works or not.” I rolled my eyes in response as I dragged the blade across my palm, watching the crimson liquid spill into the center of the mortar.

“O theris tes, caleo se cai deo.”

Within seconds, the same red-headed reaper I had seen on the beach stood in front of me; her eyes wide and her lips curled up animalistically.

“You,” she snarled at me.

Without hesitation, I clapped her wrists into the cuffs that had been resting in my back pocket. “See, now you greet me that way and a girl might think you aren’t happy to see her.”

She glared at me intensely, shuttering at my jest.

“Where is he,” I asked, all sense of frivolity gone and replaced with a not-so-thinly-veiled threat in my voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She pushed her arms down in front of her, all stubbornness and determination, as she struggled against the biting metal.

“See, that paint on the floor? It won’t last forever. But those cuffs? You won’t be shaking them any time soon. I’m assuming you didn’t miss the ever so carefully carved personalization around the clasps.” I gestured toward them, smiling at my own cleverness.

Her eyes dropped as she lifted her wrists up, taking in the finely engraved symbols locking her in place. “You bitch,” she breathed out.

“Oh, see, now if we’re going to be getting mean...” I grasped the hilt of the Angel Blade that was tucked into the back of my jeans and pulled the weapon out in front of me, holding the tip of the blade between my fingertips, toying with her.

I watched as her eyes went wide.

“I figure,” I began, stepping away from her before dramatically turning back and making eye contact with the reaper once more. “If you die, your deals are void. And Dean will come back from wherever you’ve stashed him.” I took a few steps closer towards her, leaving my toes just outside of the sigil. “Am I close?”

If she could kill with a look, I’d have been smoldering by now. “Fine,” she bit at me. “I’ll release him.” I watched as her eyes flashed behind me, as if looking at someone that wasn’t there.

A hazy fog seemed to waft into the room, leaving a stale scent in the air. I waved my hand in front of my face as if pushing the smell away from me, coughing as I went. When I opened my eyes and looked back again, Dean stood in the entryway to the bathroom, a white stony ring in his hand as if he had just finished pulling it from his finger.

“Dean,” I whispered, half choking on the word.

He looked at me in shock; his eyes wide, pupils dilated, and a slow, pensive smile beginning to spread across his face.

“Y/N,” he breathed my name at me as I felt myself lifting, as though the world had fallen from my shoulders.

My feet were all but frozen in place. It was all I could do to just stare at him in bewilderment. His steps, however, were quickened as he practically ran towards me, his arms winding their way around my waist and pulling me close to him. “You’re here.” The words rushed from my mouth as his lips placed tender, chaste kisses on my shoulder; up my neck until he was holding my head to him, kissing my forehead.

“Yeah,” I responded, replacing my disbelief with irritation.

I felt my body go rigid, immediately consumed with frustration and rage. I had gotten Dean back, true enough. But the text message that he had left me with still lingered in my mind. If he had just left to fulfill his end of a deal with Death, I could understand. But that hadn’t been the case. And now that he was back and I had ensured his safety, I wanted nothing more than to leave him there; alone, confused, and miserable just as I had been.

Sam had wordlessly walked over towards us and laid a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Dean,” he said, smiling. I felt Dean’s arms slacken as he released me and brought his younger brother in for a hug, his hands around Sam’s shoulders as they aggressively patted each other’s backs.

“Missed you,” Sam admitted, choking back the emotion that his eyes were unable to hide.

“Course you did,” Dean joked. “Don’t know what to do with yourself without your big brother there to save you.” His smile was genuine and full of ego as he pushed himself out of Sam’s embrace and held the youngest Winchester at arm’s length, examining him as if he had been gone for years.

Taking the opportunity presented to me, I turned around, coming face to face with Jessica again. She held her wrists out in front of me expectantly.

“Well?” Her tone was irritated and impatient.

I chuckled to myself as I placed my hands on my hips, the Angel Blade still clenched in my grip. “I don’t remember any part of our deal involving me letting you live.”

Her eyes seemed to turn jet black, filling with hatred as she glared at me. “You bitch,” she spat.

My fingers flipped the blade, expertly twirling it in my hand as I teased and taunted her, taking excruciatingly slow steps towards the reaper.

“She won’t let this slide,” Jessica stated with more authority than I was willing to accept.

“Oh, won’t she?” My sarcasm dripped from each syllable like thick maple syrup dripping from a fork. “Billie, I assume, is the ‘she’ you’re referring to, yes?” She glared as her response. “How keen do you think she’d be to find out you were making deals with the Winchester’s, huh? Because I seem to remember something about how the last time she saw him,” I pointed at Dean, aggressively, “It would be the last time before the end. Chastised us all for being too reckless.” I tilted my head to the side. “I just can’t help but wonder what she would think about one of her minions dealing with any of us.”

The vague threat in my voice accompanied by the blade that still twirled in my palm did little to intimidate the reaper. All too unexpectedly, I felt the Angel Blade leave my hand as I watched Dean grab it from me and plunge the blade through Jessica’s abdomen holding her shoulder as he pushed the angelic metal deeper into her body.

“You can go to hell.” I watched him pull the blade out, wiping it on his jeans as the life faded from Jessica’s eyes and her body slumped onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Dean,” Sam yelled. “What the hell? She was our only bargaining chip!”

“No,” Dean shouted back. “No,” his voice came out calmer now as he took a breath. “We didn’t need a chip. Least of all her.”

The blade slipped from his hand, falling to the ground with a sharp, metallic echo. I watched Dean as he turned around, running his hands through his hair as he turned to face me. His same smile crept back up his face, as I refused to be overcome by joy or smiles myself.

“Hey,” he greeted again, sauntering towards me. I quickly stepped back into the living area, away from Dean, and towards Sam.

“I’m going to head out.” My words were curt, and my vision was fixed on Sam’s confused countenance.

“What? Why?” Seeing Sam confused was usually amusing, but I could feel the disappointment wafting through the room, directed solely at me.

“You know why, Sam.” I dropped my gaze down to the foot of the bed to my left where my duffle bag laid, still closed. I gripped it by the zipper, unwilling to take the time to find and carry it by the handles.

My hand was on the door handle by the time Dean caught up. He reached out slowly, the white stone ring still clenched in his hand, and grazed his fingers down my upper arm.

“Y/N,” he pleaded. “Why are you doing this?”

I turned my head back towards him, forcing my tear-filled eyes to meet with his. “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

The venom in my words as I echoed his goodbye text message back to him was tangible. And it hit its mark as his arm slackened, leaving me the freedom to pry open the door and run to my car. My shaky hands fumbled with the keys, unlocking and opening the driver’s side door. I threw my duffle into the passenger seat as I sat down and turned the ignition.

Before I could process what was happening, I was barreling down the highway, the Winchester’s in my rearview and nothing ahead of me but endless roads.

My hands were shaking by the time I pulled over into the exit for the hotel. I couldn’t be sure if my emotions had gotten the better of me, or if the fact that I had been driving for 26 hours without eating or sleeping had finally caught up with me. Each time I’d stopped, either for gas or for the bathroom, I’d convinced myself that I hadn’t made it far enough yet. That they’d be right behind me and the whole ugly scene would replay in my head, yet again. Dean looking at me as if I were the embodiment of Christmas morning and he was five years old. Sam staring at me quizzically, as if he were a confused puppy. And me, standing there feeling my heart break into pieces, yet again.

I checked into the hotel on autopilot, but I was sure to upgrade my room to a jacuzzi suite. The far-too-happy man at the front desk handed me my key card as he wrote my room number on the paper sleeve for the key.

“Here you are, room 1409.” He smiled brightly at me. “The gym is just down this hall to the right, and the pool is to the left. Enjoy your stay.” His chipper voice and cheery smile did nothing to lift my spirits as I gave him a forced customer-service grin and made my way to the elevator bay.

The ride up to level 14 seemed to take forever, all the while, flashes of Dean’s face ran through my head. The excitement he showed when he found a meal that he was looking forward to. The satisfied glee that emanated from him when he laid in a quality mattress, especially the one in his room at the bunker. The room he called his own. The anticipation on his face as he leaned in to kiss me for the first time. And the second. And the emptiness in his expression when I walked out the door.

I pressed my palm into the bridge of my nose, scrunching my eyes closed and doing my best to rid my thoughts of Dean for the evening. The elevator doors opened and made my way to my room, unlocking the door, throwing my bag on the bed, and immediately stripping off my clothes as I began running the water in the jacuzzi.

The tub filled quickly as I added the bubble bath that sat on the rim. I lowered my sore, aching body into the scalding water, relishing in the instant relaxation that it provided. One of the jets was placed at my low back in just the perfect spot to elicit a contented groan. Laying my head back into the corner of the tub, I closed my eyes, choosing to clear my mind and let go of the day. Tears began flowing down my cheeks unbidden and within minutes, I found myself sobbing.

I heard the lock on the door click as the door handle turned. Panic set in as I sank deeper into the water, hoping whoever was walking into the room wouldn’t see me.

They moved through the dark with ease, even bending over to pick up my discarded clothing near the entryway and setting it down on the couch right next to them. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm my breathing.

I could feel them getting closer as they leaned towards me, and I accepted my imminent death.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean’s voice came from just beside me, his tone low and melancholy. “Guess you finally got your hot tub, huh?”

To Be Continued....

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(Desperate attempt to get my faves to notice me) @thinkinghardhardlythinking @smol-and-grumpy @colereads @watermelonlipstick @that-one-gay-girl @waywardbaby @luci-in-trenchcoats @holylulusworld @cockslut-padalecki @calaofnoldor

#SPN Fanfic #SPN #SPN fanfictions #Supernatural #Supernatural Fanfic #Supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader insert #reader imagine #reader request #Dean x reader #spn angst #spn fluff #fairlyspnfanfic #the ties that bind us #jared padalecki #jensen ackles

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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Oh, yes. Yes please.

Oh, to be ✨railed✨ by Dean Winchester

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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sorry to bother you again! I would really love it if you would add my to your tag list for Ties That Bind Us? (and really anything you do thats Dean or Jensen) I am in love with this story and I'm almost caught up. You are amazing!! <3 <3 <3

You’re not a bother at all! I’m adding you now :) I’m sorry I missed you!! Thank you so much! Reading your comments gives me such a thrill and makes writing it all that much more worthwhile <3 <3

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind Us - Part Twelve

Words: 2366

Warnings: Car crash, death of a character, implied violence, first aid, language

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT PART NINE PART TEN PART ELEVEN

The crash happened so suddenly. The SUV just in front of me careened into the side of a bright yellow moving truck, scraping against its side at a high enough speed to flip the smaller vehicle over. I watched in horror as the moving truck seemed to move in slow motion, falling towards the other vehicle, crumpling the front end as it went.

I moved without thinking, making short work of my seatbelt as I locked the transmission into park and switched off the ignition. My door was open with my feet carrying me away from the car before the engine fully calmed. The cab of the truck hung over the smashed SUV. I tip toed up to the window, peering in to see what I could make out. “Can you hear me?” I asked, panicked. There was no answer, but I could see the driver leaned back in the driver’s seat, his eyes closed and mouth hanging open. I pressed my fingers against his neck, desperately searching for a pulse.

His heartbeat was there. Not strong, and beating far slower than was normal, but it was there. He groaned as I pulled my hand away and bent down, kneeling to the ground as I asked the woman inside the same question. She nodded in response as she held her hands up to her bloodstained face. The shattered glass from the windshield and windows was everywhere. I could see large pieces in her hair, sticking out of her clothing, and imbedded in her skin.

“Don’t move, alright? I’m going to get you out of here. The ambulance is right here.” The woman nodded again. “Hey, we’re right in front of the hospital. We can get you help, just stay awake okay?”

My fingers pulled at the door handle, trying to yank it open around its bent frame. On my third try, it sprang free. The driver moaned as I both saw and felt her slide towards me, her seatbelt locking her in place.

“I’m just going to reach around you, okay? I need to unclip your seatbelt. You’ll be out of here in no time.” Her seatbelt dislodged easily, but I held the strap as taught as I could, securing her into the car so that I could slowly move her towards me. “Is there anyone else in the car?”

Her voice was hoarse, but she whispered “No.”

I nodded back at her, letting her body slide into mine. I contorted myself so that I could catch her upside-down form and right her gently, bringing her to her feet as she cautiously added weight to her legs.

“You okay? You good?” She nodded again, her eyes glassy and pained. The truck leaning over the vehicle began to tilt, pushing down further into the cabin of the SUV with its weight. The shifting of metal against metal creating a high-pitched uncomfortable sound. We instinctively ducked away as the truck slid again.

Paramedics and nurses were running out of the hospital towards us, a gurney in tow. They deftly maneuvered the dazed woman onto the rolling bed and ran inside with her as I turned my attention back to the man in the truck. With its stability more than jeopardized, I looked in the window again, careful not to lean on anything.

“We’ll take it from here, ma’am,” a voice called from behind me. Firefighters and paramedics had arrived on seen. They were making their way up to the door of the truck and I stumbled back a step, the adrenaline beginning to loosen its hold on my demeanor. I took a deep breath as I watched them go to work.

“Well?” Jessica asked expectantly. “What are you waiting for?” Her eyes flicked over to the truck.

Dean answered her with stunned silence; his eyes still fixed on Y/N as he watched her pulling the woman out of the SUV below the rubble. Jessica pointed to the truck angrily as she became more and more impatient.

“You knew she’d be here,” he asked, less of a question and more of an accusation.

“Does it matter?” Jessica snapped back, shoving Dean towards the mangled metal. He walked up slowly, not even bothering to side-step the firefighter who was prying at the door.

She was still standing there. Y/N. Her face betrayed the shock that was running throughout her and her feet were firmly planted in the cement. His eyes were stuck on her, but he knew she couldn’t see him. Couldn’t feel him. But he could smell her perfume. He could feel her warmth. And everything in him was screaming for her, urging him to reach out and hold her.

“Do. Your. Job.” Jessica’s voice was loud; booming and angry.

Dean raised his hand, reaching it in directly through what was left of the truck door, and placed his fingers on the arm of the truck driver. The driver let out his last exhale as his spirit drifted over towards Dean. “Aw, man,” the driver whined. “I was so close to home.” The defeat and desperation in his voice was heartbreaking, but Dean’s eyes remained fixated on her face.

Unable to restrain himself any further, he walked towards her, placing his face just to the side of hers, knowing she’d feel nothing. Not even a cold breeze.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so damn sorry.” He hesitated, taking a full inhale of her scent, and relishing in being close to her once again. “I love you.”

I watched as the firefighter pried the door to the truck open and the driver’s hand immediately fell, bouncing off the seat as though there were no feeling in it. The firefighter called another man over; a paramedic who immediately felt for a pulse. The look on his face told me that there wasn’t one there. Still, they worked diligently and efficiently, prying metal from the truck and plastic from the dash until the man’s body fell loose. His eyes were open now. Open but vacant. Empty and lifeless.

I could feel myself panicking internally as my anxiety skyrocketed. I attempted to regulate my breathing, but I could feel hyperventilation beginning. Without warning, I felt a warmth on my cheek as though I were hugging someone, but there was nobody there. I closed my eyes, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

“I love you.” A whisper in my ear, quieter than I could have imagined but distinctly his voice.

“Dean?” I whispered his name breathlessly, my eyes scanning all around me searching for him. My heart sped up and I tucked my hair behind my ears, knowing that holding out any hope would be fruitless. But I searched, nonetheless.

“Ma’am, you really need to back away. We need to take care of this. You need to get back to safety.” The same firefighter pleaded with me. I shook my head and began walking away, looking over my shoulder, still searching for Dean.

My pocket began to vibrate in my back pocket, capturing my attention. I pulled it out, pressing the answer button and holding it up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “What’s taking so long? Are those sirens?” I closed my eyes.

“Yeah, they are. I’m fine,” I said quickly, wanting to keep him from panicking. “There was an accident on my way to pickup the food. I’m about to get it now. But, Sam?”

“You were in an accident? What?” I heard the sound of his chair abruptly being tossed behind him.

“No. Just saw one and helped out a bit. Sam, I need to ask you…”

“I’ll be right there,” he said, his words tumbling over one another.

“Don’t. I’m walking to my car now. But-“

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I answered through gritted teeth. “Sam, damnit I’m trying to ask you something serious!” My impatience had overtaken my calm approach.

He answered me with only stunned silence. “Sam, what did Dean do?” I could almost hear his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “When I was…out…What did he do? Did he make a deal, trade a soul, call in a favor, or what?”

“Umm.” Sam began, stalling.

“Sam,” my voice carried every bit of urgency and seriousness that I could. Walking up to my car, I pulled the door open and slid inside, my phone still held up to my ear. “Tell me. Now.”

“He never confirmed that he actually did anything. Just said he was going to summon a reaper.”

“A reaper.” I repeated to myself, soaking the information in as I racked my brain.

“Shit,” I whispered into the phone.

“What?!” Sam’s worried voice called into my ear.

“That’s who it was. That reaper. The one who told us about Rowena. How she dies. That’s who brought me back.” My thoughts were jumbled, and my words were coming out in rambles.

“Y/N,” Sam began. “What do you mean, brought you back?”

“I was up there, Sam. Heaven. Sitting on the beach with my parents after family dinner. Walking down the shore. I started to walk back towards them, and she showed up.” My head was beginning to ache as I filtered through my memories. “She said she’d been ordered to come get me. Son of a bitch, Sam.” I hesitated, rubbing my fingers down my face. “He made a deal with a reaper.”

Dean had wandered away from Jessica, following Y/N as she walked determinedly back to her vehicle. He stood there, desperately longing to reach out to her but knowing that it would be of no use. She was on the phone now. He could hear Sam’s nervous voice on the other end as they spoke but then, he saw the terror that passed over Y/N’s face, her eyes widening.

“Shit,” she whispered, very uncharacteristically.

“That’s who it was. That reaper. The one who told us about Rowena. How she dies. That’s who brought me back.” He took a breath, knowing she’d be more than a little angry once she put the pieces together. “I was up there, Sam. Heaven. Sitting on the beach with my parents after family dinner. Walking down the shore. I started to walk back towards them, and she showed up.”

“Heaven?” He practically yelled the word as he fell back, his feet seemingly dragging him away from her.

“Let’s go!” Jessica was screaming at him now, impatient, and full of malice.

“You knew.” Dean leveled his eyes with Jessica’s, fire burning in his eyes as he stared her down. “You knew she was in heaven. And you…. You pulled her out of there.”

“You’re forgetting, Dean.” She spat his name out as if it were poisonous. “You made the deal. There weren’t any caveats. No ‘bring her back, but not if she’s in heaven,’ there was no clause for ‘bring her back, only if she’s in hell.’ Your deal. Your terms.” Jessica shoved her cold, bony finger into his chest to enunciate her point.

“Yeah well,” Dean began, rage boiling up in his chest as his tone became louder and gravellier than ever. “Semantics. Way I see it,” he paused, cocking his head. “You welched, and I’m out.”

“Not so fast, Deano.” Jessica said, a devilish smile on her face. “You back out now, that’s fine. But I’ll just take her. Right now. She’s just over there. All I need to do is extend my hand.” Her words sounded airy, but the amount of violence implied in them was overwhelming.

He walked over to the reaper, all brevity and fury. “Billie know about our little deal?” His question hit the mark as he watched a brief flicker of terror run through Jessica’s eyes at the mention of her boss’ name.

“Who do you think gave me the ring?” Her arms crossed over her chest now as she fluffed herself up. She held her hand out to Dean, expecting him to take it. He left it empty, refusing to comply.

I pulled into the hotel parking lot and ran into the room, my fingers fumbling with the key.

“Sam?” I yelled into the living room.

His head popped out of the bathroom as he walked towards me, his arms enveloping me as he pulled me close to his chest, hugging me.

“Sam,” I whispered. “Can’t breathe.” He let go almost instantly but kept his hands on my shoulders, examining me as if searching for a broken piece. “He made a deal with a reaper, didn’t he?”

Sam shrugged, his eyes darting away from mine as his hands fell.

“You know he did. It’s the only way to explain it. Everything. How I survived, how I came back, why I saw her on the beach.”

“Yeah, so maybe he did.” Sam’s voice rose an octave as he ran his hands through his hair and began to pace by the edge of the bed. “You’re back now, though. There’s no undoing it if he even did it.”

“If?” I asked incredulously. “Sam, there’s no if here. You know he did. He’d do it in a heartbeat for either of us. And now he’s missing? No way those things aren’t related.”

He stopped pacing and made eye contact with me again, his jaw set in a hard line. “We don’t even know where he is, Y/N. He could be anywhere.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But he’s not though. Something’s up and you know it.”

Sam stared at me, sighing. “So, what’s your plan then, Y/N?”

I walked over to my duffle bag, still unpacked and haphazardly thrown on the floor by my bed. “Where is it?” I threw clothes out of the bag, followed by my sheathed dagger, spare ammo, vial of dead man’s blood, and silver letter opener. “There you are,” I said as I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my not-so-pristine angel blade.

“What are you going to do with that?” Sam’s doubtful voice was in full swing as he dropped his arms to his side and stifled a chortle.

“What do you think I’m going to do, Sam?” His face remained blank. “If Dean can make a deal with a reaper to get me back, I can sure as hell kill one to get him back.”

To be continued…. Part 13

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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New Member Spotlight - April 2021

THE POND IS ALWAYS GROWING, AND WE WANT TO MAKE OUR NEW MEMBERS FEEL WELCOME! HERE’S A LIST OF RECENT ADDITIONS TO OUR FISHY FAMILY ALONG WITH A LINK TO A WORK THEY’VE POSTED!

@fairlyspnfanfic -

Her masterlist is filled with series, so if you like longer stories, you’ll love these! If you’d like to start out with just a one-shot, maybe read Hidden, first. It’s a Sam x reader fic with a little bit of everything in it!

@dreaming-about-fanfictions -

Their masterlist is massively multi-fandom and also includes some original works! For a lovely little smuyty one-shot with Dean, go read Dinner Is Ready!

@apple-piie-life -

She’s got a masterlist full of Dean stories in every size you can want, so there’s plenty to choose from! Maybe start with an angsty little drabble like Started Out With A Kiss?

THAT’S ALL FOR THIS MONTH, FOLKS! (IF WE’RE MISSING ANYONE, LET US KNOW AND WE’LL ADD THEM TO NEXT MONTH’S LIST!) MAKE SURE TO SAY HI TO THE NEWBIES AND LET THEM KNOW YOU ENJOY THEIR STORIES!

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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I just want you to know that you write for Dean and Sam AMAZINGLY! I literally feel like they are speaking to me when I read which makes the immersion level like at 1000! Thank you SO much for your work!!

Thank you so much! You have no idea how much that means to me. I’m not crying. Nope. It’s just raining on my face or something.

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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Can I be tagged in the tires that bind us please?

Of course! I’ve added you to the list :)

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fairlyspnfanfic · 3 years

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The Ties That Bind Us - Part 11

Words: 2323

Warnings: Callbacks to old episodes, sad Dean, depictions of violence, car theft

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT PART NINE PART TEN

My hands squeezed the grey leather that was wrapped around the steering wheel; the sweat of my palms drifting onto the fabric as my fingers gripped ever tighter. Just drive I told myself, willing my foot to remain stable on the gas pedal as my eyes flicked up at the rearview mirror. The engine began to rev, urging my left foot towards the clutch as I moved the car into fifth gear. The hum of the transmission settled as the car propelled forward, carrying me closer and closer to my destination.

The old silver Honda Civic had been sitting in the parking lot when I walked out of the hotel lobby. The driver’s side door was even unlocked, as if waiting for me. Sam had followed behind me, just far enough to make eye contact with me through the driver’s side window as I drove past him and out of the parking lot, having hotwired the car easily. His eyebrows had been pursed, but his reluctance to chase after me told me he understood.

Dean was in the wind. I couldn’t blame him. Who’d really want to hang around the clingy damaged goods that I was at the time? But now, I was more committed than ever to never being forced to rely on anyone but myself.

Dean walked up the front steps of the ranch style home just outside of Chicago. He wrang his hands together before running his right palm down his face, pulling on his chin as he dropped his arms to his sides. He showed no hesitation when he got to the door and simply kept walking, passing through the passageway as if it were a hologram.

His steps slowed as he walked down the hall, his eyes lingering on the collage of family photos sprawled across the wall. Suddenly, a photo caught his eye and he stopped walking, planting his heals firmly into the floor as he wracked his brain.

“No,” he whispered to himself. “It can’t be.”

“But it is.” Jessica’s sing-song voice trilled from beside him as she appeared out of nowhere. “You’re cleaning house, Dean. What did you think that meant?”

The photos of Michelle Montgomery stared back at him as his mind flashed back through the memories he held of her former husband, Jack, as he transformed into a Rougarou before him. “How is this cleaning house, huh?” His voice was defensive as he gestured to a photo of the woman, smiling and happy as she pressed the side of her face up to a dolphin.

Jessica remained silent, offering him a sly smile as she lifted her eyebrows and looked over at a photo further down the hall. Michelle had her arms wrapped around a young boy as they stood in front of a table with a birthday cake on it with a giant blue 5 emblazoned on the frosting.

“Come on, man,” Dean whined, dropping his head. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You know the rules, Dean. You clean house. Right the wrongs, take the souls, every single one, or I’m taking her back. It’s up to you.” Her explanation ended and she returned to her invisible state once again.

His fist instinctively balled into a tight fist, and he aimed it directly at the wall in front of him, punching out as his hand and arm passed through the wall without any damage. “Son of a bitch,” he yelled out.

There were soft noises emanating from a room down the hall. The soft "vroom” noises became easier to hear as the breeze in the home blew the door open. Dean sauntered through the doorway, looking down at the boy who couldn’t be more than 10 years-old playing with his Hot-Wheels on the floor beneath his bed. Dean knelt next to the boy, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see him. Slowly, he reached his left hand forward, the ring with the large white stone weighing heavy on his hand, and gently laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dean watched as the child’s face lost its jovial expression and his eyes went blank. Within moments, a transparent grey version of the boy stood next to him, staring at him quizzically. Dean’s eyes watered and his voice was choked off as he strained to utter “I’m sorry.”

I rolled the hem of my shirt up slowly, exposing the scar on my side and the fresh gash of road rash that lined my abdomen. Wiping it down quickly but gently with an alcohol pad and some gauze, I hissed through my clenched teeth. The ghost that had dragged me across the floor of the barn hadn’t been as easy as I had assumed he would be. In fact, he’d given me my first brush with ectoplasm and had been some of the most difficult remains I’d ever had to search for.

It had only been about a month since I pulled away from that hotel room. A solid month. Full of solo hunts, crappy hotel rooms, and patching myself up alone in a dingy bathroom. I’d never quite gotten the hang of sewing up my own skin and I was sure there would be more than a few gnarly scars to serve as a reminder of that.

My phone began to vibrate where it sat on the sink, rattling its way towards the edge of the dirty ceramic. Sam’s name displayed on the screen and my breath hesitated as I slid my finger across the glass, allowing the call to come through.

“Heya Sam,” I greeted as I switched the call over to speaker phone, intent on finishing the job of bandaging myself up. “What’s up?” I winced as the words came from my mouth.

“You okay? What’s wrong?” His voice took on a new urgency.

“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head in amused exasperation. “Just finished a job and cleaning up. What’s up?”

“Oh,” he sighed. “Got it.”

Silence filled the room as he resisted talking.

“Sam?” I questioned.

“Yeah?” His voice was eager.

“You called me, remember?”

“Oh, right.” I could almost hear him squirming. “Right. Well, it’s just that...I mean I wouldn’t have even called if....”

“Where’s the job?” I pushed my shirt back down, satisfied with its cleaning and dressing.

“Lincoln, Nebraska.”

“Sam,” I sighed. “I’m a good day’s drive from Nebraska.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing.

“I know.”

“I told you to stop tracking my phone, Sam.”

“Then turn off your location and I will.”

I rolled my eyes at his answer, grasping the handle to the bathroom door as I walked out into my motel room. I picked up my small duffle and flung it over my shoulder as I headed for the door to the parking lot. “I’m on my way.”

It seemed like only fractions of a second had passed before Jessica was back, standing in front of him with a smile on her face as she looked through her list of names. “Corrections” as she called them.

“How many more are there?” Dean’s question hung in the air as she gave him a self-satisfied grin.

“As many as there need to be.”

He hung his head in defeat, shoving his hands into his pockets. She reached out, gripping her fingers around his shoulder as she yanked him along, zapping them all over the country as she had been doing for weeks. Dean had begun to lose track of time, but he remembered each person he had reaped for her. Jessica had started with Jacob Pond; the son of Sam’s friend, Amy, who had just so happened to be a Kitsune. Each reaping was another innocent monster he had allowed to live, and each one was harder than the last.

They finally stopped in the hallway of a hospital. The wing was quiet, with the only sound being the subtle beeps of the IV machines and the rare, soft footsteps of the two nurses he could see flitting into and out of rooms.

Jessica pointed to the room to his left. He looked in, amazed at who he saw.

“Her” he asked, surprised.

She gave no response but shooed him through the doorway.

His footsteps were labored and intent as he dragged himself further into the room, until he was standing a breath away from Layla Rourke.

He wasn’t surprised to see her here, in what seemed like a hospice center. But he was amazed to see that she was breathing at all, having assumed that she had died years ago, when he and Sam had stopped the supposed faith healer. Her blonde hair was short; barely buds on the top of her head, and her eyes, though closed, seemed sunken. She had been fighting all this time.

“Layla,” he whispered, reaching his hand out almost happily. Jessica grabbed his hand, stopping him before he could reach out to the husk of a human that lay in the bed.

He snapped his eyes over to the reaper, questioning her with his glance.

“Not her,” she said, almost happily. “Her.” She pointed to the slumped over woman in the chair next to Layla’s bed. Her mother. She was older, but still had a healthy glow on her cheeks even as she slept.

“You can’t be serious,” Dean asked angrily.

“Shall I go visit Y/N then? Pop in for a catch up?”

He stepped towards Jessica, rage radiating from his very pores, before brushing past her and dragging his left pointer finger down Layla’s mother’s arm. She let out her last breath, sounding like a sigh of relief, as her soul drifted towards Dean, locking eyes with him.

“You,” her soul spoke. “I knew you were a curse. You’re death.” Dean could feel himself sinking into his chest, hopelessness enveloping him.

“Twenty-one hours, Sam.” I enunciated my words, ensuring that he could feel my exasperation as I spoke. My arms were crossed in front of me, and my caffeine fueled system caused my eyes to jitter in my skull.

“Yeah, I know.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and gave me his best puppy dog eyes, pleading with me to grant him a pass.

“Who,” I asked him as he looked at me in confusion. “Who ganked the Rawhead?”

I knew Sam was in over his head when he called me. Now, knowing more about the job, I knew he’d be even more sensitive to it, having fought one years ago and nearly losing his brother in the process. To roll into town expecting a challenging hunt only to find the job done for me was a surprise to say the least.

“Jodi and Donna. They took care of it.” He was doing everything he could not to make eye contact with me and couldn’t seem to stay in one place.

I looked at him, my arms still crossed as I tightened them. “You’re being super shifty, ya know.” I narrowed my eyes at him skeptically.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends as he again pushed his locks behind his ears. “It was Eileen. She came out to keep me company. It was storming overnight, and it just worked out that way. I didn’t want-”

“Sam, you don’t have to handle me with kid gloves. You’re allowed to be happy. You didn’t up and skip town on me. I’m glad you and Eileen are working out.”

The smile that took over his face and the relieved exhale he let out were more than amusing. “Yeah?” he said, his hands tucking into his back pockets.

“Just wish you would’ve called me, so I didn’t make the twenty-one-hour drive.”

He laughed at me heartily. “How about a movie night instead? I know it’s not the same thrill as taking out some big bad but still.”

Nodding slowly, I accepted his offer. “I’ll grab food,” I offered. “You pick the movie.” I turned on my heel, walking out the door to the parking lot of the cheap motel. Pulling out my phone, I searched for the best restaurants in the area, settling almost immediately on D’Leon’s Taco Rico. I slid into the driver’s seat of my Civic, turning the key until the engine came to life. The restaurant was down South street, just a few miles away.

Dean walked out of the hospital, wishing he could breathe the fresh air he so desperately craved but he found his full lungs disappointing instead of refreshing.

“How much longer,” he asked as Jessica stepped up beside him.

“As long as I say,” she answered in her vapid, joyless voice. “You made the deal, Dean. Now it’s time to pay for it.”

The overwhelming sound of metal gnashing against concrete, and rubber tires colliding with one another pulled his attention away from her. A red SUV was mid crash with a moving truck directly in front of them. He could hear the airbags deploying as the cars scraped against one another; the SUV flipping in the process before the truck toppled over on top of it.

Sirens were already blaring and coming closer to the scene. Dean hardly had time to process that the crash had occurred before firetrucks, police and ambulances were pulling up, blocking of traffic as they came.

Minutes passed and he continued watching, utterly powerless to help. He heard footsteps behind him running up towards the cars.

“Can you hear me?” The woman’s voice called out as she stood on her tiptoes, attempting to look inside the front seat of the truck. She ducked down quickly to the SUV, reaching in through the shattered driver’s side window as she asked them the same question.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat as the woman’s voice seemed to pierce his chest.

“Y/N,” he whispered.

Jessica remained standing next to him; her arms crossed. “We have a schedule to keep,” she spat at him. “You still have work to do.”

To be continued…. Part Twelve

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