#Weechester fanfic

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Think about Sammy and he's five years old and he says "Spicy water!" when the waitress at the diner asks what he wants to drink. And she laughs and looks at John for an explanation but he doesn't have one and can't bring himself to admit that his nine year old is the one who usually takes care of the kid.

She brings a seltzer water and Sammy takes a sip and makes a face, because it's not the spicy water but the fizz is good too and he loudly declares that to the waitress. She smiles and gives the family a free slice of pie because the kids are so cute.

Later that night, back at the motel, John sees Dean pouring holy water into Sam's sippy cup and saying "you can't tell Dad that the water's spicy" and his heart shatters all over again.

[holyfreaks]

February 1999.

The first time Sam smokes weed, it's through Dean's teeth.

It's a freezing cold night somewhere in the middle of Wisconsin. Dad's gone again. Dean was reluctant to share with Sam at first, but those pleading eyes get him every damn time.

Dean takes the first drag. He inhales slowly and deeply, trying not to cough. His eyes grow heavy as it flows through him.

“Dean? Can I try? Please?”

Dean sighs out smoke. He locks eyes onto his little brother. He pulls him towards him. Sam climbs onto his lap, straddling him. Those fucking eyes. Staring into his fucking soul. Dean takes another drag, holding it between his lips. Then he pulls Sam even closer, until their lips brush. He blows the smoke into Sam. Sam inhales deeply, eyes wide, heart pounding. His head grows hazy and heavy.

He's not entirely sure if it's from the weed or Dean.

[dark-dragon-8]

I just realized, while browsing over AO3, that the most unrealistic thing I added to my fic was not Dean disobeying John pre-canon, but rather the fact that I gave Sam and Dean proper communication skills.

I was about to give them a puppy to go to Stanford with and have them go to therapy (for PTSD) and get approved for an ESA, then almost deleted it because it seemed so far from sensible and canon. And now I remember that there is a timeline where Sam became Lucifer's vessel specifically because Dean didn't trust him and the two of them couldn't bring themselves to talk things through. That alone is enough for me to abandon any hope I had of my work resembling their relationship in canon.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

A House, the Puppy, and Everything

This is the fourth entry on my 2024 @jacklesversebingo card. It will fill the Character A loses Character B in a Store square.

Summary: Dean's frantic when his baby brother slips away from him.

Pairing: No romantic pairing. Sam x Dean (weechesters)

Warnings: None. Some angst.

Word Count: 1,174

A/N: As soon as I saw that square on my bingo card, I knew this was the fic I wanted to write. Our poor baby boys. I hope you enjoy this sad little moment from their early years.

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“Sammy!” Dean spun around frantically, the world around him twirling kaleidoscopically as his gaze refused to focus on anything that wasn’t his six year old brother.

He pushed through spinning racks of comic books, and ran past shelves filled with video games, bending to look beneath display racks to see if Sam had hidden himself under one of them. But Sam’s dark brown hair and big hazel eyes were nowhere to be found. Dean’s heart was slamming against his ribs so hard he was scared it was going to burst out of him like a Looney Tunes cartoon.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled again.

As he continued to panic, a kind-faced elderly lady approached him from the front of the store. “What’s the matter honey? Who are you looking for?”

Dean opened his mouth to answer, desperate for help. But then he snapped it shut. He knew better than to trust someone just because they looked innocent and safe. Most monsters disguised themselves that way, especially the ones who went after kids. It was part of their hunting method - find desperate kids and pretend to be their salvation.

So Dean ignored the old lady and moved away, but kept her safely in the corner of his eye. What’s an old lady doing in a comic book store, anyway? He thought.

But as he watched her suspiciously, she shook her head and shuffled back out of the store. He saw her slowly approaching one of the mall security guards and Dean panicked anew. 

She’s gonna tell the guard I lost Sam. They’re gonna try to get a hold of Dad. What’s gonna happen when they find out he’s not even in this state? 

Terrifying visions from after school specials, of shady foster homes and orphanages, filled his mind; they were gonna shove them someplace far away from each other and he’d never see Dad or Sam again. Who was gonna protect Sam if he wasn’t there beside him?

Dean gave himself a mental shove. “Who the hell is protecting him now, dumbass?” He mumbled to himself. He couldn’t believe he’d let him out of his sight. 

Sam hadn’t even wanted to come in here, Dean thought angrily. He should have known the kid was gonna wander off. Dean had all but dragged his resisting little brother into the comic book store; Sam wanted to go to the pet store further down the mall, but the puppies in cages always made Dean sad and he hated that.

Wait! His brain zinged with realization. The pet store! 

He bolted out of the comic book store, and through the crowded mall, hiding amongst the patrons as he escaped the gaze of the security guard who was headed towards him.

The other stores slid past him as he ran to the pet store at the end of the hall, annoying the slowly browsing shoppers on either side of him. He got to the pet store and skidded to a halt, checking over his shoulder for the guard or the old lady, but he couldn’t see them anywhere. He stepped inside the store and inhaled the slightly briney smell as he walked past the wall of fish tanks towards the back where the puppies and kittens were kept.

As he rounded the last corner, he felt his heart leap into his throat and then squeeze painfully. Sam was standing happily in front of one of the cages with his hand out so the fluffy white puppy inside could lick him through the bars. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled at his little brother, relief making his tone angry. “What the hell is the matter with you?” 

Sam turned to look at Dean, his little chin set stubbornly. “I wanted to see the puppies.”

Dean came close to him so he could hiss angrily at Sam and not be overheard. “And I wanted you to not wander away and be kidnapped, you little idiot.” Sam still knew nothing about monsters and how much very real danger existed in the world, and Dean wasn’t about to tell him the truth. But his little brother's lack of fear made Sam roll his eyes and turn back to the puppy. 

“I was gonna come back after.” He said simply, completely oblivious to Dean’s slowly receding terror. He turned his big hazel eyes on his brother. “But look at how cute he is?” 

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Yeah, Sam. He’s cute. Now let’s go. We weren’t even supposed to leave the motel. We need to get back in case Dad’s calling the room.” It wasn’t likely, John rarely called until he was on his way back, and that wasn’t likely for a couple days. 

But Sam’s lip jutted out and he stepped closer to the cage. “I wanna take him.”

Dean frowned. “Don’t be stupid, Sammy. What the hell are we gonna do with a dog?” Fat tears welled up in Sam’s eyes and slid down his chubby cheeks, making Dean instantly contrite. 

Sam’s voice trembled. “I don’t wanna leave him here. He’s gonna be lonely again.”

Dean squeezed his little brother’s shoulder. “Aw, come on, Sam, don’t worry about him. He’s really cute, so some family’s gonna come along and take him home really soon, I bet.”

“But I wanna take him home.”

“To where, Sam? The motel?” Dean snapped and then sighed deeply. “He wouldn’t have fun there; he’d be trapped inside all the time. Better to let some family with a big house and yard buy him. Think how much more fun he’ll have running around in a place like that.”

Sam was quiet for a minute and then nodded sadly. “Yeah, m’kay.” He mumbled. He gave the puppy a few more pats through the cage and then let Dean lead him out of the store. 

Keeping an eye out for the guard, Dean quickly maneuvered them out of the mall and onto the busy sidewalk. As they approached the slightly rundown motel half an hour later, Sam stopped out front, forcing Dean to stop too.

Dean pushed on his shoulder. “Come on Sam, let’s go. I’ll get us some root beers from the lobby before we go back to the room.”

But Sam stayed in the same spot. “How come we don’t have a house and a backyard, Dean? How come we can’t have the puppy and everything?”

Sam wasn’t pouting or sad, just genuinely curious and Dean wasn’t sure how to answer him. He couldn’t tell his baby brother that a house and a puppy and a yard was just something normal people had. Sam didn’t know yet that they weren’t normal, and he wanted to keep him from knowing that for as long as possible. 

So he just shrugged and lied. “We will one day, Sammy. One day we’ll have a big house, with like twenty bedrooms, and a swimming pool, and a huge yard with so many puppies.”

Sam looked unsure, but soon he let a smile create deep dimples in his cheeks. “And kittens too?”

Dean tousled Sam’s dark brown hair. “Yeah, kiddo. Kittens too.”

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

[smollkittykat]

"Should I ask one of the girls? Give her some extra cash so she can-"

"No. It's too dangerous. You'll go." John answered, leaning back on the Impala parked at the overnight truck-stop.

Sam left for Stanford a few months ago. The car was even quieter without his brother, so he was thankful for every hunt.

This Tuesday night, a Trucker werewolf who preys on desperate hookers seemed to be parked in this very pit-stop.

Dean looked at his father, feeling his pulse pick up.

"You want me to be bait?" ,he asked, feeling the fingers on his hands twitch, nervously.

"You grew up pretty enough, son. Loose the layers and put a silver blade in one boot, a silver chain in the other. I keep watch in the car in case there's trouble."

Dean hesitated, he really didn't want to do that.

"Now, Dean. That's an order. We don't have all night. I get the knife and chain from the trunk."

His green eyes glanced at the ground, then back up to his father, before he forced his feet to move.

"Yes sir." he replied, as he started to loose the jacket. He stripped from his flanel, leaving him in a black tank top.

John slammed the door of the trunk shut, as he approached Dean with both knife and chain.

He hands them both to his son and then gave him a look over. Dean wanted to shrug away but doesn't.

John reached his hand out for his hair, ruffling his hair into disarray. Normally Dean would crave the touch like he was starving but the lump in his throat only grew bigger.

His father let his hand rest on his cheek, raised Dean's head so he had no choice but to look him in the eye.

"Now go." John said, retreated his hand.

Dean put the knife into his left boot, the chain in his right.

He looked back at John, nodded and turned around, numbly, heading for the black truck parked a few yards away.

--------

Twenty minutes later, Dean kicks the lifeless body away from him, as it collided on top of him. Hot blood running from the werewolf's throat onto Dean's face, his skin, his clothing, soaking them in a pungent iron smell. A grunt, that comes out more like a cry leaves his throat as he kicks his feet one last time, with all of his strength to get the heavier man away from him.

He sits alone in the driver's cabin, with only the corpse as company, as he pulls his jeans and boxers back up shakily, wipes away the tears with blood stained hands and shuffles out of the truck and it takes all of his strength to not fall right out of it on the ground and use the ladder instead.

"What took you so long?" ,John grunts when Dean opens the door to the passengers seat of the Impala.

Before Dean gets to answer his Dad speaks up again.

"You look like shit. You smell like shit, too."

"Gee thanks.", Dean grunts and his voice sounds forgein to him.

John starts the engine. They never talk about it. John sees that as a good sign. He could really put Dean to use like that.

inspired by this draft script here:

[ragdollsammy]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62209177

this is how parents ruin kids. screw them and make them theirs. you sip from your flash. burn that right out of your head. pick up dean. smell his hair. home. he keeps you here. present. what if mary's story was hers? a reflection on the how and why of mary's death: how domesticity and trauma lead her, to losing her instincts and dying. and or sam and dean being specific types of undiagnosed kids to deeply insecure mom who can't stop drinking

it is DONE!

[envythemouse]

This plot bunny has been hopping around my head for months now

Sam de-ages himself to get Castiel and Dean together but ends up liking being their little Sammy a bit too much.

When they finally get together Sam doesn't really want to change back to his grown-up self, because he's never been so happy before and he loves being close to Cas and Dean.

So basically...

Sam wants his brother and angel to date so both of them can be happy.

He devises a plan to get them together.

De-aging himself is the solution, obviously.

Cas and Dean don't know that Sam has all his adult memories.

Sammy finally gets to be a child and be free all while performing his masterplan.

Dean has always been Sammy's daddy dearest and so when Sammy meets Cas he asks "Are you my new mommy?"

Yes, they're parents now. (Until they find a way to change Sam back of course.)

Even though Sam has his memories, he feels much more sensitive than usual and has difficulties controlling his emotions.

e.g. He starts crying when he trips.

Sammy having a nightmare and asking to sleep in bed with Dean like usual, asking confusingly why Cas isn't going to bed with them -> our little boy deserves to be sandwiched by Destiel <3

Sammy not liking salads anymore and sitting in Dean's or Cas' lap when eating because he can't get high enough to eat properly and needs to be spoonfed.

Dean enjoys spoiling Sammy in ways he couldn't before because they didn't have a lot of money back then or a proper home.

Dean missed seeing his brother so happy and carefree.

Castiel sees Sam's soul getting brighter everyday and finally healing.

Sam gets to ask Cas all the questions he always wanted to ask, but didn't have the courage for: "Dean says you're an angel, does that mean you can fly? Where is heaven? Are your wings white? Can I touch them? Do angels marry? Can you heal people? Does it hurt when you lose feathers??"

Dean calls Sam baby and Sam loves that even though he didn't when he was little the first time, Dean notices and wonders why it doesn't bother Sammy anymore.

Eventually Cas and Dean get together but by then Sammy doesn't really want to be big again because he doesn't want to stop being loved by his parents Cas and Dean.

Dean catches on to what's going on and together they all find a solution everyone is happy with, can be anything: Sammy growing up all over again the normal way, turning him back to his adult self but still caring for him and spending time together, having a magical ring so he can change his age at will in case they're on a hunt or there is an emergency... just anything happy.

Sorry, I have a very soft spot for Cas and Dean being parental towards Sam. You have no idea.

[soft-pine]

i’ve whispered and walked on eggshells just to choose misery over dispute

some blueberry pie life: chapter 23

hi! i've gotten a few new followers since i last posted a chap of this so i wanted to do a quick re-intro post as well as a chapter update. this fic is my magnum opus, my precious baby. basically it's like a million one-shots that touch on themes from canon-time spn and how they tie into pre-canon and eventually post canon. it's pretty heavy and the beginning is much more of a dean character study than DeanCas per say but we are heading there.

title from Misery Over Dispute by Waxahatchee

notes below!

August, 2002

Sam leaving is mentioned throughout season 1 but this specific convo is a reference to the conversation between Sam and John in 1.20

The house that they were staying in when Sam left for Stanford is shown in 5.16

The reference to Sam begging to come hunting is from 11.08

Dean dropping out of high school and therefore needing to get a GED is a reference to 5.01 and 5.13

The chick-flick comment is a reference to 1.01 and 11.23.

May, 2013

Takes place during and right after 9.03

The reference to Cas falling asleep in the car before was from 5.22

May, 1993

John sending Dean away when he really pissed him off is something Dean talks about in 14.12

[samanddean76]

Up! Up!

Rating: Gen | Word Count: 607 | Pairing: Sam & Dean

Sam’s body drifted in the gentle current as he hid amongst the kelp.  Trying to keep his giggles to the bare minimum so Dean wouldn’t have a trail of bubbles that would lead directly to the little merboy.  Sam flicked his tail, as he tried to maintain his current position, while he and Dean played his favorite game, hide and seek. 

Sam looked around his world with wide eyes, just before he ducked behind a thick cluster of seaweed that slightly swayed to and fro, his tail swishing as he kept himself hidden from view.  Little hands reaching out to steady himself, grasping at the coral that had grown up from the sunken Spanish Galleon, a long-forgotten remnant of the humans of old.  A means to move about what they considered a rather hostile environment, but one that Sam called home. 

A school of purple basslets erupted out of their hiding spot and swam past Sam, causing a burst of delighted laughter to push up and out.  Sam watched as the bubbles swirled towards the surface, and he realized his error.  He quickly dove further down into the seaweed, hoping to avoid detection.  But alas, he was caught. 

Hands reached out to capture him and gathered him close, just before Dean’s chuckle surrounded him.  “Heya Sammy.”  Sam giggled, as his small arms wrapped around Dean’s neck, just before he made his long-standing request. 

“Up!  Up!”  Sam’s giggles turned into bouts of joyous laughter as Dean cradled him close and then shot towards the surface, not stopping until he erupted out of the sanctuary that the sea afforded them.  The bright sunlight glinting off all of the myriad scales that covered their tails.  The iridescent coloring came to life as Dean twisted in a spiral, while he held Sam close.  Sam’s little hands clutching onto Dean’s neck as they dove, Dean’s form gracefully arching as it cleanly broke the surface, and they drifted back down, his tail being used to guide their descent. 

They spent the remainder of the afternoon that way, Sam trying to hide, but always being caught when he would marvel at the natural beauty that surrounded them.  Dean holding him tight as he would give Sam all that he asked for, and rocket them up, until Sam was red-cheeked from laughter.  As the water grew darker when the night settled in, Dean steered them towards their home, a large cave at the foot of the coral reef in which they wiled their days away. 

Dean held Sam close, rocking him gently as his tail swished back and forth, while he told him an inspired bedtime story.  A fantastical tale where they grew up and got their legs.  How they would emerge from the sea and walk upon the land.  Helping those who needed their assistance.  Sam always tried to stay awake, some nights he managed to, but other nights he would immediately drift off to sleep and awaken in his half of the giant clam shell that served as their bed.  His seaweed blanket having been tucked carefully around him by the brother that he loved with all of his heart.  The one who would protect him, guide him, and ensure that he grew up to be big and strong. 

Yes, Sam loved his watery world and all the games that he could play every single day, but he could hardly wait to grow up. 

But for now, he would learn, and frolic in equal parts, while he reveled in all of the glorious bounty that surrounded him.  Knowing that as long as Dean was near, he was safe. 

And would remain so, forevermore.

Art by Threshie that inspired this joyous fic

@threshie Thank you for your wonderful gift to the fandom!

[schizosamwincester]

Sam wasn't sleepy anymore. She was making the stupid face that meant she was plotting something. She was only eight, but she was damn smart. There was always a new plan—to sneak out, to surprise Dad, or to perform some kind of experiment. It was anyone's guess how this one would work.

Weirdcest, weecest, Trans male!Sam and Trans female!Dean (even if neither of them know it yet), 1.2k

Anyone else who grew up with an opposite-sex sibling end up weirdly fascinated by the parts of each other's bodies that were different and end up letting each other just sort of play with them? Or was that just me and my brother? Well, it doesn't matter. The point is that Sam and Dean definitely did.

[platonic-soulmates-gencest]

Relationship: Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester

Additional Tags: Weechesters | Child Winchesters (Supernatural), Fluff, Mother's Day, Brother's Day, POV Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Mother

Word Count: 4,804

Summary:

Sammy loves his brother and constantly searches for new ways to show Dean. This time, Sammy's teacher has them making Mother's Day cards and Sammy finds his chance. But Sammy is Sammy so of course he has to make sure to give Dean his card on the right day. Age: Sam (6 y.o. - Grade 1) & Dean (10 y.o. - Grade 5) Date: May 1989

Written for Volume 3 of the Wayward Sons Zine

[spnexploration]

First Heat

Pairing: none

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (briefly), John Winchester (mentioned)

Synopsis: 16yo Dean Winchester is presenting, and he's not having a fun time of it

Warnings: a tonne of swearing, a tiny moment of masturbation

This fulfills the "First Heat" square of my @spnaubingo and prompt 15 of @whumptober "I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself"

Supernatural writing masterlist

Dean had been in pain before. He’d been injured in hunts and training, gotten in fights at school, and gotten the belt from his Dad for a variety of earned and unearned transgressions. But nothing had ever hurt like this.

This was agony.

His insides felt like they were on fire. Like a white hot knife had been plunged into his belly and was being twisted to and fro.

Worse was the realisation of what this meant: he was presenting.

He was a fucking bitch Omega.

He whimpered quietly, trying not to wake Sam. He knew his brother would worry. He knew his brother would have very valid concerns about how their Dad would react.

He didn’t want to think about that.

He wanted the pain to be over.

He whimpered again.

Sam started to stir. Fuck. Stupid bloody motel room. Why couldn’t he live in a normal house and have his own goddamn bedroom at the age of goddamn 16 so his stupid 12yo brother wouldn’t hear him whimpering like a baby when he couldn’t control it any more? Why’d he have to go through this with an audience?!

“Dean?” Sam asked in a worried voice. His eyes grew wide as they focused on Dean’s bed. Dean knew he must paint a pretty picture: drenched in sweat, shaking like a leaf and probably grimacing through his pain.

“’m fine Sammy, go back to sleep,” he grumped at him.

“You’re an Omega,” Sam breathed. He must be able to smell him. Great.

“I’m still in charge, go back to sleep,” he hissed.

Sam started climbing out of his bed. Dean growled at him, but even to his ears it sounded about as terrifying as a newborn kitten purring. He was just in so much pain.

Sam reached out and gently touched his shoulder. Dean whimpered again.

“Umm, we have to get you some help.”

“I don’t need your help, I can handle things myself!”

Sam rolled his eyes. He headed over to the motel phone on the desk.

“What-” whine- “what are you doing?” Dean stammered. “Don’t call Dad!”

“I’m not, jeez, I’m not an idiot.” Sam picked up the receiver.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Calling Bobby.”

“Sam it’s the middle of the night and I’m fine anyway.” Dean’s panting just to get through the sentence did rather betray him, but he didn’t any Sam waking anyone up and telling them his shame.

Sam rolled his eyes again. Bloody 12yos. He started dialling.

“No, no,” Dean said, throwing off his covers. He tried stand up to go stop Sam, but he fell to his knees instead, crouched over. He whined loudly, unable to stop himself.

“Bobby?” he heard Sam say. “Dean’s, umm, Dean’s presenting. He’s... I think he’s... he’s... he’s in heat.”

Dean couldn’t hear Bobby’s side of the conversation, just Sam agreeing a lot. Finally Sam hung up the call.

“Ok, he said that the pharmacy will have something you can take to make the heat stop, and then you have to see a doctor to get suppressants so you don’t have as many heats.”

Dean grunted in response. Something to make it stop sounded great right now.

“Umm...” Sam was looking shifty. There must be something else.

“Spit it out.”

“He, umm,” Sam looked down, not looking anywhere near Dean, “he wants me to go get you a collar first so you can’t get claimed by an Alpha.”

Dean hissed.

“He said you have to come to the pharmacy or they won’t give me the medicine, but it’s too dangerous for an unclaimed Omega to just wander around without a collar... Especially in heat.”

Dean punched the bed next to him. Stupid fucking bitch body.

“But, umm, nowhere will be open yet. So he said to give you some painkillers and you might want to take a shower.” Dean appreciated that Bobby sent a coded message, didn’t tell his stupid kid brother to tell him to go jack himself off.

Sam helped Dean to stand and to stumble into the bathroom. He was still in so much pain he couldn’t stand straight. Sam offered to help him get in the shower but he growled at him and he backed away.

Sam shut the door behind him. Dean leant his forehead on the cool tiles. Fucking hell.

He panted with effort as he got his drenched boxers off, choosing to imagine they were wet solely from sweat.

He painfully manoeuvred himself into the shower stall. He paused to get his breath back before tackling the taps.

The water did feel good.

He gently touched his aching cock. It was so sensitive he felt like he nearly came from that alone. He felt a rush of slick run down from his ass. That was almost a massive turn-off.

He gently pumped himself, needing only a few strokes before he messily came all over the shower screen. He panted, feeling a little better. He felt strangely empty, but he tried to ignore the implications of that.

He stood under the stream a bit longer, enjoying the sensations. Finally, the water started to turn cold, so he shut it off. He staggered out and grabbed a towel, drying himself off.

He was half-hard again already. Fucking hell.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on the bed tapping his feet like he did when he was worried. He looked up quickly.

“Oi, bitch-” Crap, Dean thought. That nickname’s problematic now. “Chuck me some pants.”

Sam quickly grabbed him undies and jeans and passed them to him. He shut the door and struggled into them, panting from the effort. The relief he’d felt when he’d come was already starting to wear off.

He staggered out and made it to his bed before collapsing.

“Ok, umm, I’m going to go get you that, umm, thing...” Sam said, standing up.

“The fuck you are,” Dean growled.

“Dean, Bobby didn’t want you getting claimed by some psycho Alpha.”

“What fucking respectable establishment do you think is going to sell an Omega collar to a bloody child? You’ll have CPS on our asses in no time.”

“...Oh.”

“Let’s just go to the pharmacy and get the fucking drugs.”

“But Bobby said-”

“Fine, get Bobby back on the phone and I’ll tell him I’m not endangering you just so assholes don’t come near me. I can take care of myself.”

“I, umm, can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

Sam squirmed. “He’s, umm, he’s not at home anymore.”

Dean’s voice turned deeper, “What do you mean, he’s not at home anymore? Where the fuck is he?”

Sam looked down, never able to maintain eye contact when he knew he was saying something Dean wouldn’t like. “He’s on his way here...”

“He’s what?”

“He’s coming to help! He’s worried about you! He doesn’t think you’ll be able to get into a doctor without a guardian and he also doesn’t think Dad’s going to, umm, take it well... and we don’t know when he’ll be back anyway...”

“Right, well, we are going to the fucking pharmacy where I am going to fucking punch anyone who so much as looks at me like I can’t fucking buy fucking pills by my fucking self, got it?!”

“You could wear Dad’s collared shirt... Might be better than nothing,” Sam said hesitantly.

Dean huffed out a deep breath. “Fine,” he growled. Sam scampered over to Dad’s bag of extra clothes and pulled it out. Dean growled again but put it on.

He whimpered as he tried to do up his shoes, but shot a glare at Sam before he could offer to do them for him. The knife in his guts was back, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with.

Dean swayed and clutched his belly as he stood up. Sam crossed to him quickly and held his upper arm, despite Dean’s glaring look. Reluctantly, Dean let Sam help him to the door. Sam grabbed the room key and locked it behind them. Dean held out his hand to take the key. Sam looked like he was going to argue, but he seemed to think better of it and handed it over. Dean was dammed if he was going to let a stupid thing like being an Omega stop him being the responsible one.

They staggered down the road, Dean needing frequent rest breaks. The pain was growing and growing. Both brothers were on high alert for any Alphas walking past, but it was still quite early in the morning. They made it to the pharmacy safely.

Then they had to wait outside for 15 minutes until it opened. Dean whimpered frequently, despite his best efforts not to.

Finally, finally, the door opened. Sam helped Dean up from the ground and into the shop. “My brother needs help,” he called, earning him a growl from Dean.

The pharmacist hastened over. “First heat?” she asked, a sympathetic look on her face.

“Ye-yeah,” Dean grunted.

“Is there something you can give him?” Sam asked anxiously.

“Where’s your guardian?”

“Our Dad went out of town for the night, I called his hotel and he’s on his way back but it’s a long drive,” Sam lied earnestly. “Wanted to get my brother some help first.”

“He left you alone?” she asked sharply.

“It was only one night, and my brother’s 16. He can look after us for only one night. We didn’t know he’d present.”

She pursed her lips but seemed to buy Sam’s lie about how long John had been gone.

“Right, well, we’re really supposed to have a guardian’s permission. Especially for an Omega, it’s not like he’s presenting as an Alpha,” she chuckled. Dean had to stop himself from growling at her casual sexism, that wasn’t going to get him what he wanted.

She considered. “Your father’s on his way back?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam answered.

“Alright, I’ll give you the first dose but I’m keeping the rest of the box. You bring your father here with the Omega when he gets back and we’ll give the rest of it.” Sam squeezed Dean’s arm in warning. Dean groaned in pain to cover his anger at her words.

“Thank you so much,” Sam gushed. She walked behind the counter and returned a minute later with a tablet which she held out to Sam. If Dean hadn’t been in so much pain he would’ve given her a piece of his mind about how she had already decided his twelve-year-old brother was somehow his guardian by proxy. Instead, after a slight pause where Sam was confused about what she was doing, he took it and then handed it to Dean.

“Do you, umm, do you have any Omega collars too?” Sam asked hesitantly. Dean growled.

“Yes, of course. Heavens, I should have suggested that!” She bustled off.

“I am not wearing a collar!” Dean hissed to Sam.

“Bobby said-” Sam whispered back.

“I will tell Bobby where he can shove his stupid-”

The pharmacist returned. “Here you go,” she said, approaching Dean with the collar open as if she was going to attach it to him. He hissed and put his arms in front of him in a defensive pose, although the fact he still couldn’t stand up straight did rather ruin the effect.

“Come now, little Omega, there’s no need to be like that.” She deftly manoeuvred around Dean’s weakened arms, and his shocked expression, and clicked the collar around his neck. “There you go, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now no naughty Alphas can claim you.”

Sam quickly grabbed Dean’s arms, turned him around and walked with him to the exit, calling out his thanks. He was, rightly, worried that Dean would attack the woman. Dean hissed and spat whilst the Beta just waved pleasantly back at him. Fuck her.

They began the slow hobble back to the motel, Dean clawing at the collar. “Just leave it alone until we get home, you may as well have the protection now that we have it,” Sam said.

Dean kept clawing, but he was in so much pain and struggling to think and walk that he was ineffective.

Finally, they made it back to the motel room. Sam batted Dean’s hands away and quickly removed the collar. Dean gratefully collapsed on to his bed, curling into a ball and whimpering. He hoped the drugs would kick in soon, before he started crying like a baby in front of Sam.

He finally started to feel a tiny bit better, but also uncomfortable. He tossed and turned, hissing whenever the position he moved to turned out to be more painful than he’d expected. He couldn’t stop his whining, either.

He looked over at the other bed, seeing Sam’s wide eyes staring at him in worry.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Dean said through gritted teeth, “You’re shooting up so fast you’re definitely going to be an Alpha. You won’t have to go through this.” Dean didn’t mention that he himself was tall and had assumed he’d be an Alpha, or at least a Beta.

“I’m not worried about me, Dean, I’m worried about you!”

“I’m fine,” Dean hissed. Sam rolled his eyes.

Eventually, the pain and sweating eased a little more. It felt more manageable, less like he was going to burn up and die. But he was still immensely relieved when there was a loud banging on the door, Sam opening it up to reveal Bobby on the threshold.

Dean stood up to greet Bobby, not wanting to be seen as an invalid. Bobby pulled him into a hug. Dean actually fucking whimpered like a needy bitch. “It’s alright, ya idjit,” Bobby murmured. “It’s going to be alright.”

.

.

.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

[chineseshoestore]

SPN FANFIC REC

https://archiveofourown.org/works/667517?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true

Dysfunction | Morgan

We got weechesters, we got protective Dean, we got - damn! we got so much! One of the best spn fanfics I've ever read.

[hobbitual-psychick-art-stuff]

Suptober 2023 Day 9: Starlight

Dean Winchester leaned on his little brother’s shoulder and grimaced regretting a large number of his life choices up until that point. Deciding to go after the Chupacabra without Dad, using only his twelve-year-old brother as backup hadn’t been the best decision he’d ever made. He was just lucky that the only injuries he’d collected during the scuffle were a large number of bruises but the tramp back to their rundown motel seemed to stretch longer and longer the more they walked.

”I told you we should have waited for Dad,” Sam muttered from beneath his shoulder, “it was only killing goats.”

“Yeah you told me. You also told me chupacabra don’t live in packs.”

”I keep telling you, Dean. It wasn’t a pack it was a female and her nearly grown litter of pups.”

”Pups my ass!”

”If they hadn’t been pups that one that bit your ass would have taken a chuck out of it,” Sammy muttered with all the smartass sass Dean had come to find hilarious and infuriating in turns in the past few years.

”Just shut up and enjoy your starlight stroll wise-ass.”

Sam huffed a breath of air through his too long bangs and walked for a while in silence. Then he straightened and turned to point back the way they’d come.

”That constellation is Orion, the hunter just like us.”

Dean turned and looked at the sky and couldn’t help but smile remembering Uncle Bobby teaching them the constellations a few years back. Of course he’d forgotten most of them, but big brained Sammy had stored them away like the encyclopaedia brained geek he was.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded to himself and straightened his spine, reminding himself that they had in fact killed the monster. “A hunter just like us,” he agreed and tasseled Sammy’s hair while they doggedly continued their starlight walk back to the rundown motel they were calling home for that week.

[winchesterride]

So I kinda did this:

Sam still feels guilt for letting Dean down once again after his brother came back from Purgatory and found out Sam didn't look for him. So at a normal hunt Sam pushes Dean out of the way so he would be the only one hit by a witch spell, but he ends up timetraveling with the witch, that searching for revenge drcides to kill young Sam and Dean. So Sam ask for some old friends help to make sure he and his brother will be safe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

English is not my first language, and that is clearly not the best thing I've ever done but it was fun to write.

It happens in season 8, after they'd found the bunker but before Sam'd concluded the first trial (so between ep 12 and 14)

There's a lot o Sam being hit by witch spells and feeling guilty. Weechesters are cute. Dean is a great big brother and Bobby is perfect as always.

[winchesterangstclub]

Intrusive thoughts by fanspired

Someone’s trying to get in.

Dean hears the awkward fumbling of a key tried against an unwilling lock.

It’s Sam. He knows it’s Sam, just having a bit of trouble opening the door for some reason, but somehow the sound reminds him of other motels, other towns, other times . . . His muscles automatically tense, and he thinks about the knife under the pillow.

From an early age he got into the habit of keeping a weapon close to hand. He knew the things Dad hunted, what was out there in the dark; it was simple precaution to be prepared. But he also learned young that werewolves and skin-walkers weren’t the only threat. Sometimes the predators were way closer to home.

Minnesota, summer of ’94, the night manager knew there were two kids by themselves in number 15. Second night, he got drunk enough to try his luck, opened the door to see Dean flanking Sam’s bed, gun in hand. He stood in the frame swaying for a minute, staring, assessing, thought better of it and stumbled away. Dean pushed the table in front of the door and sat there the rest of the night, until he heard the distant but unmistakeable rumble of the Impala’s engine just after dawn. He never said anything to Dad. No need. They checked out the same morning, so everything was fine. That time.

Dean’s eyes are open. The intruder’s inside now, just the other side of the partition. Dean has a sense of the size, the shape, hovering there behind him, scanning him through the smoked glass. Instinctively his hand reaches under the pillow.

It isn’t an intruder, it’s Sam. He knows that. Sam’s bed’s empty for one thing, and he can smell coffee. Intruders don’t bring coffee. (Though why Sam’s standing perving at him through the glass instead of just coming right in is a question for another time.)

It wasn’t always an outsider trying to get in. Sometimes after a hunt, if Dad had trouble getting the key in the door, it meant he was tired and exhausted, or worse. And sometimes it meant he’d stopped off on the way back, after what he’d seen, done, for a drink or three . . .  Sometimes Dean would have to help his father to bed, help him off with his jacket and stuff, check his body for injuries, dress them sometimes . . . and drunks are heavy, clumsy, over affectionate . . . After Mom, Dad was never that demonstrative except when he’d been drinking, but then he could get a little clingy, hold on to Dean too hard, kiss on his head and stuff . . . not that he thought, even for a moment, that Dad would ever lay a hand on either of them, but even as a kid the over-familiar intimacy of it all made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t know why that was.

“Morning sunshine!”

Dean’s limbs jerk and his head snaps round to greet his brother. It’s Sam. Of course, it is. He knew that. He makes himself let go of the knife. Still, the adrenaline spike is all dressed up with no place to go. He can’t seem to get it to level out, and he doesn’t know why that is.

Another question for another time.

 [go give them some love on ao3]