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luxshine · 4 years ago

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“Yo a ti, Cas” Or how mexican dubbing gripped us tight and raised us from Despair.

Ok. So I promised a big meta about the dubbing thing and so while I don’t have all the answers YET, here’s a bit of perspective on the differences between Despair and The Truth.

First, a little background. I am a former professional dubbing translator. While I worked on anime series from Japanese to Spanish, rather than in live action ones from English to Spanish, the process is not that different. Also, I worked in Mexico, where Supernatural is dubbed, so that’s why I can make the assumptions I make. Finally, my specialization in college was translation from English to Spanish, so I guess I know what the hell I’m talking about.

So let’s start on HOW you translate something for a dub. Back in the day, you got a ton of VHS tapes with the episodes on them with time codes, and, if you were lucky, a shooting script. This is to say, it was not a transcript of the actual words said in the episode, but the script BEFORE the actors, directors, and everyone else had a hand on what was said and changed. And thus, anything adlibbed? Is not going to be in that script which, at least for the anime side of things? Was a nightmare as the script was usually “And here X actor can say whatever they want” and I had to go and listen to the scene ten thousand times. Now a days, you get either a video file or a streaming link, and sometimes, the shooting script. If you get a script, btw, you can also not get a script in the original language. I know that the person who had to translate Sprited Away to Spanish was working off a German script, not the Japanese one. So yeah, some things can be lost in translation there.

THEN you get to translate. BUT you can’t just translate word by word. You have to adapt it so that it will sound like something a person will say, and sometimes, literally is not the way to do it. And in particular, Mexican dubbing has a reputation to uphold as the “Neutral” dub that is send to most Spanish-speaking countries in Latin America, so we can’t use certain words (I don’t have the list at hand, but I remember that I couldn’t use “Llanta” for Tire, and so I had to use “Neumatico”. And no “sweaters” or “hotcakes” or stuff like that), AND we have to match the lips of the original video. Which is like, the worst nightmare ever because of what we call “labiales”, that is to say, the letters where lips close.

I can’t tell you how much we all loved when a character gave a long winded speech with their back to the camera due to those damned closed lip letters.

All this is to say that sometimes, the line could be “We are all in this together for good or bad”, and the translation become something more like “Estamos en esto, por las buenas o las malas” (We’re on this, the good way or the bad way) or “Estamos juntos en las buenas y en las malas” (We’re together in the good and the bad), depending on the translator, dub director, and voice actor.

Depending on the client, that is, the original owner of the series, sometimes they will review the translation once it’s all dubbed and edited. I know that in the Avengers movie, a Disney rep was present on the cabin and forbade any changes from the script, which resulted on a couple of awkward lines in the end result. I don’t know if that’s the case for Supernatural, but I honestly doubt it. Still, translators can’t make huge changes for the dialogue. One couldn’t just ADD a relationship that wasn’t there, no matter what.

(As an aside, due to the very conservative mindset of some tv stations, it’s more common that gay relationships become more ambiguous, by changing “I love you” to “Te quiero” which can be more of a filial love than a romantic one. And well, that one case in Sailor Moon where a gay character was changed into a woman because the dub director honestly thought the character was a woman. But that was in the nineties)

Now, let’s go to how Castiel’s speech was translated.

The original, according to Superwiki, went like this:

Castiel: You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.

Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye? Castiel: Because it is. I love you. Dean: Don't do this, Cas. Cas.

And the translation, as it was aired, went like this (And people, you have no idea the war flashbacks transcribing this gave me, so I hope you appreciate it):

Castiel: Eres el hombre mas amoroso sobre la Tierra. Un hombre sin egoismo; el hombre mas generoso que haya visto, y que jamas vere. Sabes que desde que nos conocimos y desde que te saque del infierno, el conocerte me ha cambiado. Porque a ti te importa. Y a mi me importa. Me importas tu. Y me importa Sam, me importa Jack, me importa todo el mundo. Y fue por ti. Tu me cambiaste, Dean.

Dean: Porque suena esto a despedida?

Castiel: Porque asi fue. Te amo.

Dean: Yo a ti, Cas. (The empty appears and Billie opens the door) Cas…

Castiel: Adios Dean

Dean: No!

Ok. So… At first glance, they’re pretty much the same until we get to the I love you. BUT let’s dissect it a little bit.

Cas begins with a “Eres el hombre mas amoroso sobre la Tierra” which is not how I would’ve translated “The most caring man on Earth” since “caring” is more like “Cariñoso” rather than “amoroso” which would be “loving”, and yes, there’s a difference. Plus, “el hombre mas amoroso” sounds a bit clunky, so Personally, I’d have gone with “Eres el hombre mas cariñoso en la Tierra”, that would’ve given us more time for the rest of the speech, but I wonder if the translator choice for Amoroso instead was more due to the fact that “amor” (love) is more clearly romantic than “care” (cariño, in a sense, more on this later) and so it foreshadows the end.

Again, with the literal clunkyness we have “Un hombre sin egoismo” (A man without egoism) which sounds weird no matter what language you speak, and it should’ve been “Un hombre dadivoso” (A giving man) or “un hombre desinteresado” (a selfless man) although the second could be mis-construed as “a man without interests” so “dadivoso” would’ve better. But the more puzzling is that the Spanish separates the selfless man from the next, which is REALLY confusing as the English is “the most loving man”, which would be “el hombre mas amoroso” making it quite redundant, so the Spanish changes it to “the most generous man”, “el hombre mas generoso”. To add to this, Cas continues with “that I have seen and I will ever see” instead of “That I know”, because it’s far more poetic. And loving.

So yeah, Mexican Cas is basically saying that Dean Winchester is made of love and puppies.

Ahem.

The next part “You know, ever since I pulled you out of hell, you’ve changed me” is more or less word for word, and the only thing that changes is that the English sounds more like a question and the Spanish one is an affirmation. YOU KNOW that ever since I pulled you out of hell, you changed me.” Little verb tense play, that doesn't change much except Cas’s resolution to say what he has to say.

And then we get to the part that made me squeal out loud. Because we go from

“Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you”

“Porque a ti te importa. Y a mi me importa. Me importas tu. Y me importa Sam, me importa Jack, me importa todo el mundo.” Which at first glance is the same, but NOPE.

First change: The original is in past tense “I cared”. Spanish version is in present tense: “I care”.

Which is a little non important thing except when you remember that simple present means “immutable absolute truth that won’t change with time”

Second, the choice of word for care.

I mentioned before that Care can be Cariño, as in filial, non romantic love (Or romantic love pet name, as it can also be Darling. It’s one of THOSE words). Other translations for care include “cuidado” (as in attention, concern, keeping, and worry), and of course “interesarse” (Which also can be care), “preocuparse” (care, bother, trouble, mind, fuss), and yes, “importar” but “importar” ONLY translates to English as a verb as “import”, “matter” “amount to” and notice how none of those words include “love”.

Mexican Cas is not saying “you love the world, and so I do”. Mexican Cas is saying “The world matters to you, and thus it matters to me, but my feelings for the World (and Sam, and Jack) are not in the same league as my feelings for you.”

And then Dean asks “Why does this sound like a Goodbye”, just like in English, in present tense…

And Mexican Cas replies in PAST tense. “Porque asi fue”. And THIS is important because it means that everything he said before WAS the goodbye, and not what comes next. All the rest? Is in the past. “Because it was”. Not “Because it IS”. And the next part? Is their future.

I love you.

Te amo.

Simple present. No ambiguity like “te quiero”. Spanish Te amo is for romantic love. Not brotherly, not family, not bro-mantic. ROMANTIC.

It’s like “I’m IN love with you” (Although that’d be “Estoy enamorado de ti” and I doubt that would’ve fit in the time Misha spoke)

And of course, the answer. “Yo a ti, Cas”. Not “And I, you” as I’ve seen it before (And I also thought it was, until transcribing the scene) but a simple “I, you, Cas.” Which ok, pretty cave-speak, but the meaning is pretty clear. Dean Winchester loves his gay angel.

It is also telling that the empty doesn’t appear until AFTER Dean confessed, so no, Mexican Cas is not “happy with the saying”, he had to get to the “happy with the having”.

And when Billy appears, it does seem as if he wants to say something more, but Cas is a love-sick selfsacrificing dumbass and so we all get our hearts broken.

I did get in contact with Dean Winchester’s mexican voice actor, and am waiting for answers to a small interview I did with him which includes the question “did that And I you, Cas” was in the script, and am trying to contact Castiel’s mexican voice actor. So I will be updating you on that. But I hope this clears up some of the questions about how Mexican dubbing made Destiel Canon :D

#dean deserved better #castiel deserved better #they silenced you #bi dean #supernatural mexican dubbing #y yo a ti #te amo #destiel #destielforever

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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happy getting hitched day! 1.9k, (sort of) ft. this

Most days of the year, Sam's the optimist.

It doesn't usually fall on Dean to keep the spirits up in times of war anymore. Or worse, loss. And Dean, well, he thinks himself as enough of an in-the-moment kinda guy to not wallow when everything's not going to shit, right friggin' then.

Sam, on the other hand?

Beacon of light when there's a little Hell to raise, harbinger of hope when there's a God to defeat.

And losing his shit entirely when there's an aisle to walk down, leading to the girl of his dreams and the best decision of his life.

"Dean."

Dean fusses around Sam in compact little semicircles fixing his already perfect tux, while his brother panics in a way Dean only remembers from before the kid stopped having to look up at Dean.

But he's looking down at Dean now, wide-eyed and sweaty like the very first time Dean saw him off on a date when he was fourteen — with supple, bullshit eighteen-year-old advice, he bets — and thirty eight year old Sammy is, clear as day, losing his shit.

"Yeah?" Dean channels all the calm he's got into it.

"What if I forget my vows?"

"Well," Dean lifts his eyebrows, and picks up a linen thread from Sam's shoulder that caught his eye. "First of all, would kinda serve you right for writing six pages worth of them."

"Stop being a —"

"Front and back, Sammy. Front and back."

"Dean." Sam glares, more indignant than mad. Dean rolls his eyes, and Sam continues, replacing the look immediately with a troubled one that reflects the dilemma in his voice. "I mean, I've learned them, of course. At least I think I have — I practised twice last night, once this morning — but what's to stop me from fumbling, or forgetting —"

"Your gigantic nerd brain?"

"This is serious." Sam frowns, levelling another look at Dean like he's the one with the stellar proverbial cold feet. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean throws back immediately, and pauses in his shuffling around for effect. "Also, no. No, it isn't." And Sam goes to argue with a bitchface already surfacing, but Dean keeps going, sterner, more confident. This is something he's been doing all his life. He can probably talk the kid down from a panic high like this in his sleep. "And you're going to stop being a dumbass, and listen to what I'm saying."

"'M not a dumbass." Sam mutters.

"Yeah, you are." Dean shrugs, completely nonchalant, and Sam laughs in spite of himself, nervous, but a welcome improvement as he waits for Dean to proceed. (Big brother voice never lets Dean down.)

He's still got it.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to get out there," Dean continues, smiling now. "You're going to hold Eileen's hand while the minister marries you. And approximately ten to fifty minutes later, when he asks you to, you're going to look into her eyes, and you're going to say your vows. All stupid six pages of them, verbatim, 'cause I know you, and you're going to that's why."

"They're not stupid."

Dean hums in consideration, then smirks. "There's bravery in acceptance. They probably are."

"Cas called them exquisite." Sam crosses his arms, and Dean uses the opportunity to pick up a hair from his sleeve with a disapproving look.

(Dean had offered to give him a haircut seventeen times and gotten turned down, and now Sam was shedding.)

"Yeah, well, he's a walking-talking scrabble board with good manners, what is he supposed to do?" Dean rolls his eyes but instead of the expected response of Sam snarking back at him, bitchfacing him or something, Sam sighs.

The air thickens with something that's probably a bigger deal than having to wing a couple paragraphs of page three of the vows.

Dean watches Sam fidget with the buttons on his cuff.

"How did you know, Dean?" Sam asks, subdued, after a pause. "How did you know that Cas wasn't — that Cas wasn't making a horribly wrong decision."

Dean's almost halfway to making a joke about the other shoe but he stops himself.

Because this?

This, he gets.

This feeling of thinking — knowing — you're not good enough, that you aren't right for the one you love, that you're somehow deceiving everything that your life has stood as proof of, in allowing someone else to bind themselves to you, forever, when you know that everyone who's ever meant something to you has lost, and died, and hurt.

And that is exactly why he also knows what to say.

"Because I trust him, Sammy."

Sam's eyes start glazing over. "I trust her too. I just, I'm just so scared —"

Dean winces at his words.

(That's Sam, but it's Sam in Dean's shoes. It was Dean's job — for better or for worse — to keep him safe. And he's failed, failed repeatedly, and now Sam — well, he's as broken as Dean.)

"I love her too much for anything to go wrong, Dean, and something — no, everything, always goes wrong." Sam grits his teeth, and Dean puts his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Squeezes. "I get it. I swear to you, I do. But I also promise that you might regret the things we've done, and the things that have been done to us, but you're never going to regret this."

Sam nods jerkily, eyes downcast.

"And I get being scared. Hell, I was more scared than you the entire week, dude. But you know how — and why, I pushed through?" Sam looks up again. "Because at the end of all of this, there's something more important than the promises of eternal happiness, and forever, and the Celine Dion lyrics I know you've stuffed in your vows. There's them. The ones we love."

Dean swallows.

"And who love us too, because our fucked up heads be damned, I've seen the way she looks at you, Sammy." Sam's face breaks into a small, wet smile. "So you better believe she does."

"I do." Sam slowly nods, again, eyes brimmed with tears.

(Probably about to start spilling. The only consolation for Dean is that at least his tears don't fall. Means as long as he doesn't mind a blurry view of everything, he might as well ignore their existence like he means it.)

"There, was that so hard?" Dean laughs instead, although it's weak until Sam joins in, surprised, and only then registering the words he just spoke.

"Thank you, Dean."

Is all he says, and anything Dean might've wished to say (or wisecrack) back at him is dismissed immediately because he's being pulled into a full Winchester hug by his door-sized little brother, and all he can do then is hold onto Sam as tight as he's holding him, and hold on.

(Because they made it.

They found free will, they found love, and they found their happy ending.)

Because Sammy's getting married today.

And they don't just get to be okay anymore. They get to be happy.

Sam doesn't pull back from the hug for at least a whole minute, but Dean doesn't mind, because the tears welling up in his eyes are gone when he finally smiles at Dean, earnest. "I'm —" He starts to say, but gets interrupted by Cas walking up to them with a cluster of carnations in his hand, wearing a rich navy blue tux (the same as Dean's) and a wide smile.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything," Cas beams, knowing exactly what he walked in on, and Sam shakes his head courteously while Dean battles the weirdly overwhelming need to kiss him right there — Cas is almost ridiculously beautiful when he's happy.

(He doesn't, though.

Cause he and Sam may've just had a moment but it's not like that means he'd be any less likely to be a pain in the ass about urgently requiring brain bleach and therapy, if Dean did.)

Cas carries on.

"Actually, Eileen's friend, Cara, brought her flowers and she suggested I should bring some to you."

"A corsage." Dean realizes out loud, beginning to grin at once, while Sam resorts to ducking his head like an overgrown teenage girl on her way to prom. Doesn't mean that Dean absolutely doesn't put on his best chickflick Dad voice (after he's taken over pinning the flowers to Sam's pocket from Cas, cause he was doing it wrong) and pat the corsage when he says, "Get 'er home by ten."

"The dynamics of that are all wrong." Sam points out with a traditional Sam smirk, and yeah, he's okay.

"The dynamics of your face are all wrong."

"Great comeback, yeah." Sam snorts, and Cas smiles. "Points for effort. I think."

"Whatever, you're the one wearing flowers right now."

"Dean, you wore an ascot on our wedding day."

"Ascot trumps flowers!"

"No, it doesn't." Sam bitchfaces, and Dean turns to Cas, and —

"No, it doesn't."

And Sam lets out a victorious "Hah!", and high-fives a (only slightly) confused looking Cas before pulling him into a sasquatch-sized hug as well, while Dean rewards the entire ordeal with a heartfelt eyeroll and absolutely doesn't look on at two of the most important people in his life while he pretends to be bristled about being ganged up against on his special day as Best Man.

Cas and Sam separate sooner than Dean and he did, and just in time for Jack to poke his head out the church door and remind them they're ready.

Then, Cas leaves to get Eileen, with another big smile and a signed Congratulations at Sam, and a fleeting cheek-kiss for Dean.

Then, Sam and Dean get in position behind the door and Sam refixes his tie.

(Then, Dean has to stage-whisper "Jack!" about seven times before the kid realizes he's being cued — the band had just started playing, he makes it a point to try to explain to Dean afterwards — and the great, wooden doors finally swing open to reveal a beautiful white aisle, and dozens of their friends and family smiling from both sides of it.)

And then, Dean finally walks the kid he's raised and the brother he's saved the World with countless times, down the aisle.

(Sam only messes up once in his vows. It's the last verse of Thank You, by Celine Dion.

Rumor has it, it was intentional.

Something about the first time they met.

Dean tells Sam, "You're welcome", the next time he sees him.)

#happy saileen day #dean winchester pov #i just wanted to write a nervous sam before walking down the aisle scene and it turned into an actual fic from dean's point of view so —#saileen wedding #sam winchester being sam winchester #eileen leahy #deancas #background destiel #bluefirecas #userpris #usersila #holmesemrys #tearsofgrace #userstarry #rambleoncas #userdori #oh writing my writing

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scoutdoesstuff · 2 years ago

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as proof of life for my fic homestead (and because i needed a little bit of goofiness given the growing dumpster fire in my country) have some babified Jack times. unbeated, may or may not make it into the final version of this chapter, but it made me happy to write so i'm posting it

Re-babified Jack decides that he loves peas.

He was a big carrot fan the last time around. He couldn’t get enough of them, to the point where he turned orange for a few days while Sammy was gone. It was all he would eat and Dean was worn down to the point that he wasn’t going to argue as long as Jack was eating. Then Jack turned orange, prompting Dean to panic because maybe their indestructible nephilim baby wasn’t as indestructible as he thought.

Dean had panic researched until three am in the morning that night only for Jack to wake up the next morning a more normal human baby color.

Dean made it a point after that to mix up Jack’s diet a bit, even if the kid whined at him about it.

Regardless, this time around it wasn’t carrots that the kid was mad about, it was peas. Carrots weren’t on the no-no list, though, thank god, just not as popular as the last go around.

They’d burned through the cans of Gerber’s mashed peas stashed in the back of the pantry fast enough that Sam had done a mid-week grocery run just to keep them knee deep in blended peas. Dean found himself exploring the idea of making his own baby food again — if only so they wouldn’t have to make so many damn trips to the grocery store for peas of the blended, mashed, and/or squashed variety.

Sam had returned from his latest grocery store sprint to find Dean sandwiched between his laptop, three cookbooks, and an increasingly fussy Jack Attack at the kitchen table. After unloading their latest hoard of green baby food into what had become the de facto baby food cabinet in the kitchen and watching Dean attempt to coax a smile out of Jack for five minutes with no luck, Sam had scooped up the kid and offered to see if a nap was in order.

It was nice to see Sam confident enough to cuddle Jack and offer to be the Main Dad for a moment, so Dean had kissed Jack Attack on the forehead and seen them their way.

He’d forgotten how badly Sam could get tripped up by baby things. Dean is buried in Food Blogger Instagram, mourning how so many people could make recipes that looked so delicious but would ultimately taste like ass, when he hears a sharp yelp come from the bedroom side of the main hallway. Dean counts to fifteen in his head. With nothing else heard, he goes back to trying to find a split pea soup recipe that would taste good and also not require endless fussing. It’d be something nice for the colder months since it looked like babified Jack was here to stay, even if it wasn’t going to be consistent. It’s also be nice to have something that both Dean and Sam could eat with the kid so they weren’t drowning in nothing but literal baby food.

“DEAN!”

Dean’s head snaps up towards the doorway. Sam didn’t say anything else and Dean didn’t hear his gigantic ass heavy tread coming towards the kitchen. The kitchen chair squeals as Dean pushes himself to his feet, palming a handgun into the back of his jeans as he goes.

Sam yells again. Dean moves faster.

“Sammy, where are you?” Dean bellows, hurrying down the hallway. None of the sensors had tripped recently and they’re re-upped the wards last week. Jack had been grumpy but physically fine less than ten minutes ago. Dean feels his chest tighten when he didn’t get a response from Sam.

Dean checks Sam’s room first since it was closer to the kitchen and when that’s empty he breaks into a run towards his own. It takes no more than thirty seconds to get there but by god does it feel like hours.

Dean bursts into the bedroom to find Sam standing stock still with his back to the door. He appears to be holding Jack but Dean couldn’t be sure from this angle. He doesn’t have the patience to find out, for that matter. Dean grabs Sam’s shoulder and spun him around.

Jack cooed up as Dean, happy as a clam and recently changed by the look of it. Dean’s gaze moves upwards to meet Sam’s and to ask his brother what the hell he was thinking he was doing. Christ, was Dean not stressed enough?

Sam’s face and entire right shoulder are covered in regurgitated peas.

“Help,” Sam says, eyes wild. “Dean, help.”

Dean bursts out laughing.

“Dean, it’s like the Exorcist, help,” Sam says, somehow verging on whining while trying to talk without moving his lips.

Dean can’t stop laughing. He makes sure his handgun in the back of his jeans is tucked securely away with the safety on and then scoops Jack out of Sam’s arms.

“Did you decide to share your peas with Sammy?” Dean coos at Jack. Kid still has some yuck around his mouth, so Dean hustles them over to the sink to wash him up.

“Not. Funny,” Sam hisses, still without moving his lips. “I tried to burp him and he just —“

Dean cackles. “Gotta move faster than that, Sammy!”

Sam whimpers. Dean lets him suffer for a few more seconds as he cleans up Jack’s face and makes sure the kid’s clothing come out mostly unscathed from the eruption of Mount Jacksuvius.

When Dean turns back around, Sam is roughly where Dean left him, arms stuck out away from his sides and eyes pleading.

Dean giggles again.

After his shower, Sam spends a good chunk of the rest of the day in the library, searching the stacks for what’s left of his dignity.

Dean makes split pea soup for dinner.

tagged list: @casenergies, @fic-over-cannon

#my fic #spn #tagged folks feel free to ask to be untagged #and if you'd liked to be tagged just let me know #christ fam #what a week

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andhumanslovedstories · 4 years ago

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I’ve been working on this theory lately about my own media consumption that I’ll call representational contrarianism because I’m tickled at giving it a fancy sounding name. And it’s like this: given the choice between media with canonical queer characters and media that has characters you could argue are queer, I’ll default to the latter nine times out of ten.

And it’s like. Why?

(And yeah, this is a post about Supernatural, but it’s not ABOUT Supernatural, you know? Also everything is about Supernatural except Supernatural which is about umm truly who fucking knows.)

So, for me (and consider that the big disclaimer for this post) queer characters created by queer people either cut too close to the truth, or they’re disappointing. If they’re truthful, then the truth, through the warped lens of my own insecurities and uncertainties, becomes “yes Sarah this is who you are” or “no Sarah you ain’t this.” If they’re disappointing, if I don’t like them or I don’t like the romance or I like some other character better, I feel like I’m letting someone down--not always sure who, just someone, maybe it’s myself, maybe it’s the Community, maybe it’s this fictional person--and further, this becomes another tick in a column labeled “you’re straight and you’ve always been straight, you hurt gay people by thinking otherwise, and also everyone’s laughing at you.” Which is a lot of pressure to put on kindle lesbian romance novels I picked up for $1.99, but that’s what I feel.

The important thing is, these characters and stories are tests I’m very capable of failing.

And queer people created by straight people--look, it’s not universally true, but look at the shitty way explicit homosexuality is treated on Supernatural (a joke! flat! background! nothing!) versus the absolutely inadvertent queer-coding they did with Dean, Sam, and Cas. They wrote three distinct queer masculine allegories by complete fucking accident. They couldn’t have done that on purpose. They don’t think gay people are people in the same way that straight people are people. They think that they’re Gay and then a little later that they are people. (And does my hyperfixation on this issue mean that I approach gay characters the same way as shitty straight writers? Hahahahaha shut the fuck up I’m almost in therapy again, this is all on the docket.)

Queer characters created by queer people are a litmus test, and queer characters created by straight people are pandering. And you don’t really know about the creators that often, and they shouldn’t have to list their identities on the back of the book (although catch me scanning acknowledgements for the words wife, partner, people thanked with love but identified only as an initial, like deciphering how this book might make me feel is a test I can cheat on, but what do you do with a writers room? Memorize the gay ones if you can, cross-reference who wrote what eps?). So I’m comparing myself against these characters (bad choice) in the hopes of learning about myself while also hyperanalyzing these characters in a way that would be insanely unfair to do to a real person (are they Truly Gay? are they Truly Good Representation? if I don’t like them, is it their fault or my fault or their story’s fault or God’s fault or or or or or or or). So I end up evaluating this central question about myself--literally the question Who Am I--against characters (again, a bad choice) that I swivel wildly between believing they are better at being gay than me (because they might have been written by queer people) or are worse at being gay than me (because they might have been written by straight people).

(I know this is horribly reductive in regards to representation and own voices and good writing. You don’t want to see how long this post was with nuance.)

And let’s do the ultimate thought experiment: let’s say they did Supernatural good. And now Dean is bisexual! Yay! Canonically! They decide this in season four and he comes out and maybe he always knew or maybe this is all new to him, whatever, it’s all handled fantastically. GLAAD awards for everyone.

If Dean was gay, canonically gay, if he had what I do not--a cast of writers, a voice of God saying definitely, yes, yes, he is sexually and romantically attracted to multiple genders, he is Canon now, there was an interview in Entertainment Weekly about it and everything--then he is gayer by default than me--no writers, no God, no all hands meeting when everyone nods solemnly and concludes, let’s give the people what they want: this one’s a dyke. And he slips somewhere I can’t follow, into that tantalizing paradise called Certainty, and he learns the gay lingo, and he learns the hidden stereotypes only gay people get to know about other gay people, and he unlocks the Shared History and the Inside Jokes, and he speaks to the other people in the club with the knowledge that all of them deserve to be there because they know that they deserve to be there.

(Meanwhile, I am not in the club, I am instead down at the courthouse where I get called forward before the Gender Judges who reviewed the emergency application I made in the middle of the night, and they ask, “It says here you want to change your name?” and I say, “Actually no, I thought about it but the idea of being called anything other than Sarah genuinely horrifies me,” and they ask, “But you did say you were considering experimenting with your pronouns?” and I say, “Again, no, I’ve toyed with the thought but the idea of me being referred to as anything other than she/her viscerally disgusts me,” and they ask, “Okay but what is it that horrifies and disgusts you: the thought of being identified as someone you aren’t, or making a fuss about your identity in a way that draws attention to it?” and being unable to come up with an answer, I throw myself out the nearest window and start running, also causing me to miss my scheduled meeting with the Sexuality forum where we were going to litigate whether I was allowed to use dyke like that a paragraph back.)

(We don’t have time to get into gender. Just assume this all applies to gender stuff as well, and we’ll move on.)

But. If he’s not canonically anything, then he is as gay as I make him. In this daydream or that fanfic, we make the subtext text and here is a queer story, a gay story, a story about me as I would like to be seen and would like to be, and when I am done, I spray him off with some windex and wipe him down to factory settings. And then tomorrow there’s a different fantasy where he’s gay in a different way, a nuance, a tweak, a thousand variations on the same basic premise (what if this guy liked guys), and if I don’t like one, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t stick. It’s a novel written in sand. The appeal is that it’ll wash away. Why should he be any more sure than me?

Anyway, that’s why queerbaiting is good actually (joke).

#long post #sorry I mean long post (apologetic)#the digressions I cut out good god #anyway #my public diary #spn

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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago

Text

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome. You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

---

“(Y/N)! Get a move on!”

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess.

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun.

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room.

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure.

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one.

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared.

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking.

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette.

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),”

“Yeah, yeah,”

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile.

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them.

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured.

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…”

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561

Choices Tags: @deanwinchesterswitch @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @foxyjwls007 @mandalou29 @tiki-tay @inked-poet @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @rhysmybaby @heyyy-hey-babyyy @mellilla-rose @queenoftheunderdark @imaginationisgrowth @almostelegantfire @alwaysdreamingforthebest @mydelusionalworld-7 @fatalcrossbow @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @wearesuchstuff1 @amotleyworld @impala-20 @sandlee44 @ksgeekgirl @cheesewaster @aeo10fan @mrswhozeewhatsis @idabbleincrazy @writingthingsisdifficult @ellewritesfix05 @justanotherwinchester @starks-hero @storiesfromtheimpala @iluvsumbucky @ellen-reincarnated1967 @katehuntington

Tags didn’t work for the following names: @lottieellz101 @lovedrarrypizzasleep @katherineisagubler @m2ello @guesswhosback129 @deepsleepnat I’ve sent you a message to notify you instead! @ireallyhaveaproblem unfortunately I can’t send you a message either.

---

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

I Hurt Too

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warnings: Implied smut, domestic violence? Angry Dean, Hurt!Dean, Jealous!Dean, Language, hurt feelings, angst, some fluff. Multiple view points.

Word Count: 6136

Request: hi there! I have seen loads of fics and one shots where Dean is sleeping around/having a one night stand and the reader gets jealous and upset, but I was wondering if I could request one with the other way around? or maybe one where they sleep around equally? as smutty, fluffy, or angst as you want!!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by the lovely @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much hun! As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one!

Want More? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

Dean’s POV:

The concert floor of the bunker was cold under Dean’s feet as he swung his legs off of the bed, and placed his feet gingerly on the floor. He was being very mindful of the injury to his knees that he got during the last hunt. It protested with every movement, and being in his forties now, it seemed he didn’t heal up as quickly as he used to.

Standing with a deep growl, Dean stretched the muscles that protested against his movements, his eyes wandering over the empty liquor bottle that was sitting on his nightstand. He let out a long sigh, and picked up the bottle, throwing it in the trash can by the door as he hobbled his way out of his room, and towards the kitchen in search of coffee.

Dean’s feet dragging along the empty hallways of the Bunker seemed to echo more than they usually did in the morning. Sammy had either still been asleep, as it was really, really early; or he was already on his run. Y/N must have still been out with a conquest from the night before, because he’d been up most of the night, and she still hadn’t made it home by the time he finally drank enough to pass out, and ignore the throbbing pain in his knee.

As he made his way closer to her room, he couldn’t stop himself from pushing the door open just a little, and peeking inside to see if she’d actually came home, or if she was still out with whatever bar room wonder she let take her home last night that wasn’t him.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her body covered up in the pile of covers that she always kept on her bed. Her back was to the door, and the easy rise and fall of the covers told him she was still fast asleep, so he shut the door quietly behind him, and continued his way towards the kitchen.

Normally he would have been right there with her at the bar last night. It had been a successful hunt, other than his busted knee, and that was due to his own clumsiness, and nothing really to do with a monster. He knew the stairs were rotten, and that he should have been taking them slower than he was, but Sammy was out running him, and that looked bad. He didn’t want to look weak in front of Y/N, so he rushed up the stairs, and as he got to the middle of the old rotten staircase, it had given way under his weight, sending his leg through the wood, and pulling his knee pretty good.

His adrenaline was high at the time, chasing the Werewolf through the old abandoned house, so he hadn’t really paid the injury much attention. He just jerked it out of the hole he’d fallen through, and continued his chase. Ultimately, Sam had successfully killed the Werewolf before he got there.

Three hours into the drive back to the Bunker though, he felt it, and by the time he’d gotten home and put Baby in park, he could hardly put any weight on it.

Y/N fussed over him as he hobbled his way to his room, but Dean wanted nothing more than to get his jeans off, and put on a pair of loose sweats. Again, he refused to show how hurt he actually was in an attempt not to look weak, even though she could clearly see him limping.

She’d offered to stay back at the Bunker last night, and binge watch Dr. Sexy with him instead of going out to the local watering hole, but Dean had told her to go ahead and go. He didn’t want to hold her back from having a good time by making her stay here with him.

After about an hour of bickering, she had agreed to let him stay behind, and she went out on her own.

He wanted to just get drunk, and pass out, but his mind wouldn’t let him do that right away, and getting drunk enough to black out wasn’t as easy as it used to be for him. So instead, he lay there alone in his dark room, picturing things he wished he wasn’t.

Some strangers hands on the body he wanted more than anything to hold against his. Some random sinking into her in a way that he wished only he was allowed to do. His mouth on hers as their bodies moved together.

Would she moan for him? Would he be able to give her what she needed? Would he hold her when it was all over, the way Dean wanted so badly to do, but was never able to shove down his own stubbornness, and tell her how he felt. Instead, he justified his actions by saying, “she’s safer not knowing how I feel,” or “they can’t hurt because of me, if no one knows,” but deep down he felt like his heart was being ripped out every time he saw her on someone else’s arm.

Dean poured his coffee, and sat down at the table in the kitchen with a huff, running his fingers through his hair, and pulling the short strands hard enough to feel the sting in an attempt to pull the images that were threatening to invade his mind out before they could hurt him further. The only thing he knew to do at this point in order to save his sanity was to push her away. Maybe if he did that, then it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

-------------------------------------------------

Your POV: Two weeks later

You dry your hair roughly before throwing the towel into the hamper by the door, and pull it into a messy bun as you make your way towards the kitchen in search of coffee. It was early, and Dean wouldn’t be up for probably another hour. You were sure Sam was out on his morning run, and he had mentioned something last night about going on a supply run before the next case.

You’d all been working non stop for weeks. Local cases. Things that normally would be overlooked, but Dean was insistent on staying busy. You didn’t know why, but Dean had been acting really strange since he’d hurt his knee on that hunt in Wichita Falls.

It had started when he’d refused to speak to you all day the next day. Then it progressively got worse, and now he walked around acting like you didn’t exist, going as far as to hand Sam his rabbit food last night, but not even handing you your burger, just getting his food out of the bag, then throwing it on the table for you to find for yourself.

He wasn’t even communicating with you during hunts, which made things that much more difficult and dangerous. When you finally got back to the Bunker this morning, you were well planning to go blow off some steam, and get away from this new Dean that you were learning you didn’t like so much.

At first it had really hurt that Dean had started to treat you so badly. You had always liked Dean more than just a “big brother” or friend, the way you saw Sam. The two of you were close at one time.

You didn’t know what had caused the switch. You’d gone over and over it in your head, but you couldn't figure out what you had done to him in order to turn him against you. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d get him to actually tell you what you had done wrong. So you thought at first it would pass, not get worse.

Making your way over to your dresser you pull out a simple black tank top, and a short denim skirt. It wasn’t like you were planning to ‘keep them on all night’, you just wanted them to catch the attention you needed in order to get what you desired tonight, and they had never failed you yet.

Before you could even turn around to grab your hair brush off the desk in your room, you hear a curse, and a fumbling noise behind you before your door closes. Furrowing your brow in confusion, you walk over to the door, and open it, seeing Dean’s back retreating to his room, before his door slams with enough force to knock dust down from the ceiling.

Looking down at your feet you see a busted whiskey glass, and a good amount of amber liquid still on the floor. Your eyes evert back to the door that Dean had just disappeared behind, and then down to the mess..

You must have left the door open when you had come into the room, but why would Dean be so upset if he saw you about to get ready to go out? Hell, he does it as much as you. The whole motel knew his name was Dean Fucking Winchester thanks to the whore he’d brought back last night, and her impressive vocal range.

Grabbing the discarded towel you’d just used to dry your hair, you clean up the mess caused by the spilled liquor, your mind still wondering just what you had done so fucking wrong.

----------------------------------------

Four hours later you tried to close the heavy door to the Bunker as quietly as you could as you snuck back inside. Sure, it was past midnight, but you also knew that Dean could be somewhat of a night owl, and you really didn’t want to have a run in with him coming home from yet another one night stand. Especially after whatever the fuck happened outside your bedroom door before you left tonight.

You had wanted to confront him, ask him if something was wrong, but the way he’d been treating you kept you at bay and you just decided to go on about your business, and leave Dean to whatever brooding he was doing.

The Bunker was dark, all but the kitchen light that seemed to stay on all the time, and a weak light that illuminated from the map table in the war room as you descended the stairs. You spilled your shoes off at the top of the iron staircase in order to make your footsteps lighter as you went.

You didn’t see the man sitting at the table in the dark library until he spoke just as you made your way to the mouth of the hallway, and when you heard his voice you nearly had a mini heart attack.

“You’re home early,” Dean said, flipping the lamp on, revealing himself in the back corner of the library.

“Fuck Dean! You scared the shit out of me,” you hissed, turning on your heels to face him fully.

Dean rose from his seat and staggered a little, grabbing the table for support as he swayed slightly on his feet. You had only seen Dean that drunk once. It was the night he’d been cured from being a Demon. After Sam had gone to bed, the two you stayed up all night long drinking because you were too afraid to leave him alone. It was close to five in the morning before he’d finally passed out.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he made his way closer to you, using the tables as support.

“Dean, you need to go sleep that off,” you tell him, taking a tentative step closer to him. You didn’t know what was bothering Dean exactly, but whatever it was it must be big for him to let himself go this way.

“Fuck you.You don’t get to tell me what to do. I didn’t tell you not to go fuck that loser bartender again tonight did I? Fuck no, but you whored yourself up, and marched that perky little ass of your right into his car to do God knows what. I never knew you were so fucking easy Y/N.”

His words cut deep. Dean had never spoken to you like that, and the fact that the first thing he’d said to you in days was an insult was a huge kick in the gut. Taking a step back from him, you turn to head towards your room. You hadn’t gotten very far before Dean caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around, pressing your back against the wall harshly.

“I wasn’t fucking done with you,” Dean snarled, and you slapped him hard across the face. Tears burned in your eyes at his hurtful behavior not only tonight, but over the last two weeks .

“What’s your fucking problem Dean? What have I done to you that’s offended you so much? For weeks now you’ve been a douche to me, and I have no idea what I’ve done to you!” you yell at him, all thoughts of not waking up Sam gone right out of the window.

“What’s my fucking problem? Maybe it’s you. Spreading your legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry that pays you a little attention,” Dean said, coming closer to you and shoving you backwards, his words getting louder and louder with each step he took.

Sam burst out of his bedroom door as soon as he heard the two of you, jumping in between you and Dean to stop his brother, who was so mad that he was honestly frightening.

“What the fuck is the problem!” Sam bellowed at the two of you.

“She’s the fucking problem,” Dean said, pointing an unsteady finger at you accusingly. “She thinks it’s okay to jump in bed with every fucking ass hole in Lebanon after every fucking hunt like she’s getting fucking paid for it!”

“Fuck you Winchester! You do the same fucking shit! You have no room to judge me for what I do with my free time because I sure as fuck haven’t judged you!” you scream at him, tears slipping down your face and a heaviness pooling deep in your chest.

“Excuse me? I’ve been with one woman in months compared to your six fucking men in a month!” Dean said, trying to sidestep his brother, but Sam’s long arms shot out and stopped him before he could move towards you. “Do you not care that one night one of these assholes can knock you up? Kill you, before you can get away from them? Hunting monsters, and fighting off perverts are two different fucking things Y/N!”

“Don’t act like you're all concerned about me Dean! Nice fucking double standards. You think because I’m a woman that I can’t handle myself, and that I’m a whore for doing the same exact shit you do!”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roared, making even Sam jump as he tried to hold his brother back. Dean’s face was red, his glossy eyes wide and dilated with anger. You had never seen Dean so angry, and you even took a hurried step back, stumbling into the library as Dean shoved Sam to the side and marched towards you. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE BUNKER! IF YOU CARE SO FUCKING LITTLE ABOUT YOURSELF, THEN YOU CAN GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, BECAUSE I CAN’T WATCH YOU FALL IN BED WITH ONE MORE ASS HOLE!!!”

“DEAN!” Sam yelled, crossing the floor and grabbing his arm as you sank into the chair behind you hiccuping a sob as Dean towered over you.

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean, throwing him against the wall with a hard shove. “Get your ass to your room, and sleep it off! Now! Y/N, you stay right the fuck there!” Sam said as he shoved the very livid eldest Winchester towards his room, making sure he was in there before coming back to find you still sitting in the same seat, to shocked and heartbroken to move.

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself as if it could hold you together, when all you wanted to do was fall apart. You never thought Dean would talk to you that way. Sure, he’d been pushing you away and being an ass for the last couple of weeks, but you never dreamed that he hated you. You never knew that he thought you no better than a whore. Now you had lost the only home you’d ever known since your Uncle Bobby had passed away.

You were shaking slightly when Sam pulled up a chair across from you, and sat down with a flop.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, reaching out and placing a large hand over your knee. You flinch at the contact. Only God knows what the hell Dean would do if he came in here and saw that.

“Not really Sam, I’ll get my shit packed,” you said, attempting to stand up, but Sam's hand coming down heavy on your shoulder stopped you.

“No you're not. He’s just druck, and jealous, Y/N. When he sobers up in the morning he’s going to feel horrible about the way he treated you tonight…”

“How the fuck can you know that Sam, he seemed pretty sure. Hell, a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts right? He seemed pretty sure in his decision, and I doubt he will regret a word of it. Besides, that did not sound ‘jealous’ to me one bit. He sounded disgusted, and angry,” you cut in. stopping Sam from defending Dean again.

“Y/N, I know my brother better than he knows himself most of the time. He’s not angry. He’s hurting, and he’s jealous. He’s been crazy about you from the moment you moved in here, and you won't even give him the time of day.”

You scoffed at Sam, rolling your eyes as you wiped the tears from your face harshly. Your heart felt like it just wanted to stop beating, and you really didn’t feel like being led on by Sam, and given false hope that Dean had feelings for you at all that weren’t discussed just so you would stay.

“Sam, your brother does not like me. Period. How could he be jealous, or hurt, just because I do the same thing I’ve seen him do for years.”

Sam ran his hands through his hair and let out a long sigh.

“You really don’t see it do you? Think about it Y/N, other than that one blonde a week ago, when was the last time you saw him take a girl home? That was the first one since you moved in almost four months ago.”

You search your brain, trying to remember. You hadn’t been paying that much attention. You thought because of all he’d been through he was just going through a dry spell, and when you heard him and that girl, you assumed he was getting back to his usual self.

Sure, you hated to see Dean with other women, but you weren’t dumb enough to ever think that you would even be on his radar.

“The only reason he brought that girl back to the hotel was because he got upset when he saw you with that bouncer who was about 10 years younger than him. It hurt his ego. He’d been buying you drinks all night, he’d even paid for a separate hotel room separate because he thought, just maybe you’d see how much he was into you, and go home with him.”

You look at Sam, your head full of doubt. Dean’s words were still ringing loudly in your head, and you wanted nothing more than to get away from here so that you could cry it out.

“Just let him sober up. If things are still tense in the morning, then you can take off to Jody’s for a few days. I know she wouldn’t mind, but if you are gone when he sobers up, and remembers what the fuck he did to you it’s gonna crush him.”

You let out a deep breath as you looked around the still dark Bunker with a heavy feeling in your chest. Your body started to feel exhausted as the adrenaline from your fight with Dean started to wane. You knew it was late, and if you left right now you’d never even make it to a hotel room. You were just that tired. You weren’t in the right mindset to drive, so you nodded your head in agreement. Walking to your room with your feet dragging, you fell face down your bed, and let the tears flow freely as your heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Dean’s voice still louder than Sam’s in your head.

You had been in love with him since you were 16 years old.You even patterned your life after his. He was your hero. The man all girls dreamed about, and he hated you, and it was all your fault.

You were so upset that you didn’t hear Dean sobbing into his pillow in his room as you passed to head to yours, or see Sam go and sit outside of his brother’s door with his back to it, listening to his older brother, his rock, his best friend fall apart, all because he was too stubborn, and too hurt to tell the woman he was so deeply in love with just how he felt.

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Dean’s POV:

Dean rolled around in his bed with a groan, taking a deep breath through his nose in an effort to stave off the wave of nausea that seemed to hit him as soon as he woke up this morning. He could still taste the liquor, and the scent of it seemed to be seeping out of his every pore, making his weak stomach churn in protest.

He struggled to remember the last time he’d gotten that drunk, and honestly it was all a bit foggy. It made his head hurt, so he stopped thinking, and pulled himself sluggishly to his feet.stopping for only a moment to lean against his door.

Physically he felt like shit, but emotionally he was a wreck, worse than he’d been even with his mom had died, worse than he’d been when he lost John. His actions last night played over and over in front of his face like a broken record, and he didn’t want to face that fact that he’d run you out, and hurt you. The look on your face was stuck in his mind. Tears streaming down your face, complete with utter terror of what he might do to you.

He didn’t realize what he was doing until Sam locked him in his room. It was like he was acting on autopilot and he couldn’t stop. All the bottled up emotions came rolling to the surface, and he never thought he’d snap like that. He’d never forgive himself.

Stumbling to the small sink in his room, he looked at himself in the mirror for the first time in days. His eyes were puffy and red with dark circles. His complexion was paler than he’d ever seen it, even when he had the mark. His cheeks even looked a little sunk in. Had he lost weight? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten . He’d been too busy drinking.

Dean splashed his face with water, rubbing harshly as if he could wipe away what he’d done, even though he knew he never could. When he could stand up without holding onto something, he made his way slowly towards the kitchen, hoping if he could eat something and keep it down then the sick feeling would go away and he could figure out what he needed to do to fix what he’d broken. If he couldn’t fix it, well then it was time to check out, because he couldn’t live knowing he’d hurt you.

He was thinking a big game there, cause he knew he’d never be able to leave Sammy behind, but the hurt was that deep, and he’d be lying if he said he knew how to deal with this in a healthy way, and there was always the possibility that he drank himself to death. He was pretty sure he was on his way to doing just that.

As soon as his feet hit the kitchen floor, and he looked up he saw you and Sam sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in your hands. For just a moment no one spoke, and no one moved. You wouldn’t even look him in the eye this morning, instead becoming very interested in your coffee cup.

Dean mumbled something that was meant to sound like ‘sorry’, but came out as just an incoherent noise as he turned on his heels to head back to his room, and give you space. The relief he felt that you were still here somehow diminished as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.

“Dean, wait up a second,” Sam said, standing up from the table, and making his way towards Dean who even though he’d stopped in the hallway, he’d been unable to turn around and face you again.

“Come on Dean, we all need to have a talk about…”

“We don’t need to talk about shit Sam! I was a fucking asshole, and now Y/N can’t even look me in the eye! What is there left to talk about? This is my fucking fault!”

Sam had no argument there, and he knew it, so Dean shrugged away from his brother’s hand that was resting on his shoulder, and made his way to his room to start drinking again, because that’s all he seemed to be able to do right anymore.

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Your POV:

It was all you could do to stand rooted to the floor as you watched Dean stumble back down the hallway towards his room. You’d cried so much last night and this morning that you had nothing else left in you to cry. You didn’t think your heart could break more than it already was, but here you were, trying to catch your breath as Dean disappeared into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Sam turned to you, and let out a long sigh,shrugging and shaking his head before finally making eye contact with you.

“I can’t do this. The two of you are gonna have to work this out for yourselves. I know what he did last night was hurtful, and borderline abusive, but if you can’t see he’s hurting then you're blind. I can’t make you talk to him, but I can tell you that if you let this fester then it’s just gonna get worse and worse. Dean thrives on self loathing. You know it’s not just something he can forget. He’s gonna torture himself until there is nothing left.”

Sam brushed past you and into the kitchen without even giving you a chance to make your argument. Which at this point there was really no argument to make. You saw it yourself first hand just now. Dean looked terrible, and not just hung over. He’d cried so much that his eyes were almost swollen shut, and you had only seen Dean cry a handful of times.

You stood there for a long time staring in the direction of Dean's room before your feet finally started to move. With every step you took towards his door, your hands were starting to shake, and your stomach twisted nervously.

There were several ways this could go. He could either slam the door in your face, ask you to leave, ignore you, or attack you. After last night you weren’t so sure about the last one, but he was sober this time. Hopefully that was just a drunken mistake meant to scare you, and that's all.

When you reached his door, you took a shaky breath already regretting the decision to talk to Dean, and you hadn’t even knocked on the door yet.

You hadn’t realized how much you cared about Dean until what happened between you last night. It was always just something you shoved down, and refused to acknowledge. Now it was all you could see. You had been in love with him from the moment he’d popped out of the backseat of what at the time was John Winchester’s Impala when you 16 years old.

You reached up to knock on the door, but before your hand could even make contact with it you heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. Panic twisted in your gut, overriding the nerves, and you shoved the door open to Dean’s room, your hunter instincts screaming something was horribly wrong, and you had to get to Dean.

When you saw him he was standing at the sink, surrounded by glass, watching the blood drip from his still clenched fist. His jaw was set in a hard line, and his eyes were distant as if he didn’t even really feel it.

“Dean,” you breathed out, and he turned to you slowly, looking at you, then down at the mess on the floor as well as his hand.

“Y/N, I… I’m sorry. I…” Dean bent down in an attempt to pick up the shattered glass , but you made your way over to him and stopped him, gently grabbing his hand and looking at the heavily bleeding wound. He didn’t stop you, just stood there with his eyes searching your face.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll text Sam, and he can clean up the glass while I stitch up your hand and get this glass out of your knuckles.”

He didn’t fight you as you led him to the infirmary, and sat him down in one of the chairs. He never even flinched as you took tweezers to his knuckles to pull out the glass, or when you sterilized the wound before stitching up the large cut on the back of his hand. His eyes stayed on your face as you worked, and you could feel him watching you, but you had to concentrate on his hand in order to not hurt him further as you wrapped it carefully.

When you went to stand up to put away the medical supplies, Dean caught your hand with his good one, stopping you in your tracks as he stood to his feet in front of you.

His movements were slow. Like if he moved too fast he’d scare you. For some reason, even though a normal person would have been terrified after his behavior last night, you weren’t even remotely afraid of him.

You’d faced evil. You’d face monsters. He was none of that.

“Y/N, I know it probably doesn’t mean anything after the way I treated you last night, but I’m sorry. I let my emotions get in the way. I was drunk. I don’t know why I pushed you, but I should have never laid a hand on you. I just… It hurt so much knowing you were out with another guy like always, and that I would never be good enough for you, and… I’m sorry. I’ll mind my own business from now on.”

Dean turned to leave, but you grabbed his uninjured hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Dean, stop running from me. You don’t get to say something like that, and then walk away, and go hide, or drink yourself to death! Who the fuck said you weren’t good enough for me? Cause that’s bullshit! Dean, if any one of us isn’t good enough it’s me! You’re a fucking hero! I’m just another hunter riding off the Winchesters. I probably should have left a long time ago. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were even remotely interested in me. If I’d have known I would have never gone out with any of those other losers.”

Dean froze on the spot, his green eyes piercing your own like they could see into your soul. You knew Dean, you’d known Dean for years, and you knew if anyone was going to move first it had to be you. There was a time before he’d gone to Hell, become a fucking knight of hell, spent time in purgitory, and had person after person ripped away from him that he would have made the first move, but Dean was different. That cocky Winchester that strutted into Bobby’s house all those years ago for the first time, flirting with everyone that claimed to be a woman, died a long time ago, and you knew this was your only opportunity. If you fucked this up, there would be no other chance with him.

In a bold move that you were pretty sure if you had to do it twice you’d never have made it, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his as you stand on your tiptoes to reach him. At first he stood there in a state of shock. It didn’t take him long to slip his good arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and deepening the kiss.

When the two of you finally broke away, you grabbed Dean by the hand and led him to your room. You text Sam when you got there, and asked him if he could clean up the glass in Dean’s room, letting him know you have him taken care of before slipping you both inside, and locking the door.

Dean guided the two of you over to the bed, and you both moved under the covers in the dark room. The only light is the dim light that's shining on your bedside table from the old lamp.

Sliding closer to him, you let Dean slip his arms around you before his lips find yours again in a kiss that almost feels scared. You brush your hands through his tousled hair as you wait for him to relax.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Deans said, his eyes searching you for any hint of hesitation.

This was a line the two of you had never crossed, and uncharted territory in the line of work the two of you did was a scary thing when it comes to people you care about. So much could happen. There were so many liabilities, but you couldn’t live without him, and he obviously had gotten to the point where he couldn’t live without you. So here you were.

“I’m scared too Dean, but I’m willing to try,” you tell him, placing your hand on the side of his face, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as he gathers his emotions. Trying to make sense of it all.

No, you weren’t supposed to have this, no, you weren’t supposed to have a happily ever after. This life was a bitch, and you were both far from perfect. Some of the shit you’d seen had affected you greatly, more than you even wanted to admit to yourself. You couldn’t even imagine the scars that Dean carried that no one could see. He’d gone through, and lost so much more than you even know about. People tend to forget even the people that save the world hurt too.

The hurt you’d caused each other wouldn’t fade away overnight. It would take years of building trust again, and it would take time just being together, if you had that, you’d take whatever you had.In this life, tomorrow was definitely never promised.

Tonight though, a little bit of the loneliness disappeared as clothes started to hit the floor.As his mouth explored your own, before tentatively wondering it’s way over your body. As your hands explored his body, running over every visible mark on his skin, leaving little goose bumps in their wake. As he slid himself inside of you, two marred and twisted souls became one. . That piece of the puzzled you’d been missing all your life finally fitting together.

The moving, pressing, touching, the rise and fall as your bodies drove each other slowly towards what can only be described as pure ecstasy, something you’d ever experienced with anyone you’d ever been with, because there was love there, where before there was nothing but a void. Two scared and wounded hearts beat as one for the first time. It was going to be a slow, and careful thing. Fragile. As you fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, you were confident if you died right then in that moment, it was as close to heaven as you’d ever get. You’d get there together,however long you had, because now there was nothing left in the way. He was yours, and you were his, and that’s the way it was always going to be.

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Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @rain-dance-goblin @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn one shot #hurt!dean #jealous!dean #angry!dean #angst #jawritter #jensen ackles #x reader inserts

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bippityboppitybibuck · 3 years ago

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@valleydean As of the start of writing this it's nearly 3:30 in the morning, I am almost exactly 13 hours away from the minute I was born on this day 23 years ago and I am awake thinking about Dean fucking Winchester so here you go. As a weird birthday gift from me to you on my birthday, I present mild angst but also of course fluff. By the time you get this my birth minute will have passed and I will be 23 ((oh my god just like Dean and Cas AGS.)) As with all of my ags posting this contains spoilers for the story, you’ve been warned!!

Dean’s 27th birthday snuck up on him. Well, as much as a date that comes around every year without fail can sneak up on a person who also has a solid five people clamouring to remind him. Somehow even Jack memorized the date after he heard Cas talk about it one time years ago and now the kid won’t stop bringing it up, which yeah is cute as hell but also Dean’s never been one to make a big deal of his birthdays before.

But 27 fucks him up. And hard.

He’s officially lived longer than Dean Wesson did, which sure, he technically did when he made it to the end of December, but the milestone feels bigger now that he’s 27. He’s 27. Dean’s never been 27 before because Dean Wesson never made it to 27.

It shouldn't mean anything, Dean Wesson is as much him as he is, even more so now that there’s no door keeping the memories from the light of day, but as he'd watched the clock flick from 11:59 to 12:00 with Cas beside him ready to give him his first of 27 birthday kisses something within him had felt morosely finalized.

A chapter closed, one that he’ll never be able to reopen the same way he did the first time around. Dean Wesson’s story is over. Dean Wesson’s story is his, but a part of it, the largest, hell only, part of that story came to a close when those red numbers switched over.

He doesn't know what to feel. He doesn’t know how to feel the loss, he died so young, he died with so much life still to live, he died and left Sam to live his decades out alone. He was young.

It never registered, even back then, how young he was, and he’s sure that with every birthday he has going forward that feeling is only going to get worse.

He and Charlie spent the Halloween of their 21st year watching the clock in a similar way. Waiting for the moment they lived longer than the Potter’s did - Charlie's idea that Dean went along with without putting up a fight - and it felt like this did. A shock to the system, a race won that you hadn’t known you were running. The realization that they were barely adults and now you are there living past what they ever got to.

Except, this time, it’s him he outlived. He outlived himself. It’s different for Cas, or at least Dean thinks it is, because there was never that separation, that differentiation within Cas of his two lives because there was no distinct difference when it came to his knowledge and understanding of his old life - and therefore no disconnect from himself in that way. Cas’ disconnect came in another way but Cas has already outlived himself sorta… it’s hard for Dean to tell when technically Cas has only really been alive for a short time but still was resurrected at the age he died at. Either way, Cas never made a fuss about being older than his past self.

The clock reads 12:02 now, Cas is sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his middle and Dean can’t think of what to say. 27 isn't a big birthday milestone, there's no grand party waiting for him with cards that list his age or balloons or any of the hooplas that 30 or 50 gets but this birthday feels more momentous than any he’s had or will ever have. He just doesn’t know how to deal with that yet, so he just goes and grabs it all right by the horns.

“I’m older than he was,” he says into the stillness of the dark room.

“Who? - oh, yes I suppose you are,” Cas responds, dropping his chin against Dean’s shoulder and resting it there.

“You never loved me at 27 before, is it any different?” There's a fear there he can’t name, something brought forth from etches in his bones that whisper that Cas may never love him like he did Dean Wesson, shared memories be damned, years spent together be damned.

“Mhmm, no it’s not, I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more now. A little more love with every year we get together that we never got before. Also, I’m loving you right now, that counts as loving you at 27 doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” He drops his head back against Cas’ shoulder, their cheeks brushing gently together with the ebb and flow of their breathing.

“Do you feel any different?” Cas asks lightly, tentatively, as though he knows Dean is struggling with this new reality.

“Outrageously so. But I couldn’t begin to tell you why. There's just this thought that he’s not there anymore, he doesn’t have any side-by-side memories now. I don’t have any memories anymore… I sorta got used to them always being there, following me through the things I experienced in real time. But now I’m going to do things and I won’t be able to think back to what I did before. He’s not felt so separate since before Dorthey and the manor and I don’t really know what to make of it.”

“You know you can mourn him Dean. That is allowed. You can mourn that loss of yourself. Grieve for the future you didn’t get before.”

“But why should I? I mean I’m here now, with you, Sam, Mom, Charlie, Kelly and Jack too even if they are thousands of miles away. I’m getting to live, I’m getting my future and Dean Wesson is getting it too because he’s me, I’m him. I just - he feels disjointed within me now and I want the peace back but I don’t know how I’ll ever manage to get it when from here on out Dean Wesson stops being there alongside Dean Winchester. I’m moving away from him and like everything that dies, he’s stuck perpetually at 26. He’s stuck and I have to leave him behind.”

Something thick coats his throat with the words, a darkness that seeps in and threatens to choke him if he’s not careful. Grief is such a finicky thing.

“You don’t have to Dean, same as you don’t have to leave your middle school self behind or your pre my resurrection self behind. It’s all you in there still. You get to pick what you carry with you for the rest of your life. If you don’t want to leave that part of yourself in your past, then don’t and keep it with you.”

Dean’s quiet for a while, thinking about a lot of shit, including how the hell Cas managed to get so good at this shit, because that little speech would put Dr. Phil to shame in an instant. But then of course Cas would probably have had to do the very thing he’s telling Dean now.

“Do you remember how we spent my first 25th birthday?” Dean asks.

“Hmm, I do, and I gotta say the frozen ass I got from the fence was completely worth it.”

Dean huffs a laugh into the darkness, picking his head up from Cas’ shoulder as he asks, “Do you think that for the first birthday he won’t have we could do that again? Fly back to Amherst, maybe see Kelly and Jack too?”

“Absolutely, but no smoking this time, even if I did get a rise out of you back then.”

“You bastard, I knew that was intentional!”

“You caught me,” Cas says, the phrase all but dripping in sarcasm. “Jack will be thrilled to see us again, Kelly too.”

He smiles picturing it. Cas playing with Jack, running around the backyard of the duplex Kelly bought only a year ago, smiles wide, Jack’s blonde hair sticking haphazardly out of his puffball touque, Cas’ hair tucked into a hat he’ll surely steal from Dean. Their joyful shouts echoing around them all. So like they used to all those years ago when Jack was barely five, and now he’s almost double digits and Dean can’t remember the years flying by until he looked back and they were already so securely in the rearview.

“I’m old now,” Dean says a little while later.

“If it makes you feel any better, regardless of what that fake ID you made says, my birth year is technically 1845 so… I’ve got you beat in the old age department.”

“Oh Cas, you don’t look a day over a hundred and twenty, you’re fine,” Dean jokes, Cas’ light mood rubbing off on him.

Dean gets a pinch to the ribs in retaliation and awards Cas an indignant squawk and a begrudgingly given laugh before he settles back against him, his eyes slipping closed though he wants not for sleep.

“What should we do now, I’m not particularly tired, and I feel certain in assuming that you aren’t either,” Cas murmurs lowly, breath dusting the shell of his ear soothingly.

“I dunno, maybe we should just keep sitting here,” Dean says, a memory playing behind his closed eyelids. In the heat of the room, frozen air bites at his skin just as it did back then.

Cas answers this time around, but instead of using words he pulls Dean in for a kiss - the second of his 27 birthday kisses - and within that press of lips Dean knows he remembers too.

Their skin pressed firmly together, neither move, their eyes kept forward, staring through the window at the still portrait of the winter stars.

#ags #a ghost story #destiel #destiel ficlet #my writing #ags ficlet #its my birthday and i am thinking about the sadness of birthdays no longer celebrated #valleydean #read the og story for real tho #you will not regret it

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wormstacheangel · 4 years ago

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Almost: Ch. 3

Hello! It’s a happy ending story so don’t worry but I wanted to write more about Dean’s relationships with others. Read it on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice comment?)

Ch. 1 link | Ch. 2 link |

Summary: Dean comes back from the long drive with Cas in need of some comfort. Sam is there to finally get him to talk out his feelings and admit to things he has been pushing down. Then he has to go face Cas the next day.

Word Count: 2920 More Under the Cut

“So, what?”

Dean was sitting on the floor behind the register of Charlie’s café. His head rested against her legs as she took orders, feeling too damn embarrassed to go home to face Sam or go to work and face Bobby. Charlie was the only other person who he was close to but she came into his life after Cas already left it.

“You’re just gonna hide here?” Charlie said before her customer service voice took over. “Hello! How can I help you?”

She took an order while Dean continued to munch on the brownie she has given him earlier. It wasn’t warm anymore but it was still damn good. He was glad he had a best friend who would let him eat his feelings and provided the food.

When she addressed him again she crouched down to smile sadly at him. He hated it. “Dean, I didn’t even know you liked anyone.”

“I didn’t fucken know I liked anyone either.” He groaned in annoyance as he threw his head back but it hurt as it hit some glass mugs. “Ow! Damn it, Charlie!”

“Don’t take your anger out on me!”

“I’m-I’m not! I’m just mad in general! At Cas being back. At me not over my damn high school crush. At dumb fucken Mick .” Dean let his head fall into his hands. “I’m 26, dude. I shouldn’t be dealing with this shit anymore.”

“What does age have to-?”

“I shouldn’t be having boy problems!” He pulls his head out of his hands to explain to her before he groaned again. Mumbling, “I’m too damn old for this shit.”

“Maybe if you focused more on the pretty girls like me then you wouldn’t be in this mess.” She jokingly nudged him as she sat on the floor beside him. Pulling him down so she can awkwardly hold him. “I think you just gotta be the mature one, Dean. He’s probably not staying for long anyway so how about you just go to the funeral like we planned and then we can forget that little Castiel walked back into our lives. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“That’s the spirit!” She dropped a kiss on top of his head. “Now, are you going to stay and hug my legs until closing?”

“Thinking about it.”

Charlie laughed but shoved him off when he dropped his full weight into her.

Dean did end up going home. He needed a hot shower and hoped to whatever god was listening that Sammy won’t come looking for him today because he knew Bobby would have called him. He knew Sam would be worried - Bobby would be too but won’t admit to it and Dean respected him for it - and he would come barging in with his emergency house key he made without permission. Then he would want Dean to talk.

Sam always wants Dean to talk.

A few months of not talking after suddenly losing his Mom and his best friend moving away and suddenly, ‘you’re someone who needs to be watched, Dean.’

Dean wouldn’t be damn surprised if there were hidden cameras in his apartment. At least he’s given whoever is watching a damn show every once in a while.

Luckily he took a hot shower in peace. His apartment was filled with music as he walked around his room to clean the already tidy space. His mind floating around to think of nothing in particular. Making himself not think of what happened. Not think of Cas. Not think of the damn kiss. Not think of his baby blue’s that still hold so much power over him. Not think of his dumb smile or horrible singing voice.

“Fuck!” Dean grabbed one of his pillows and buried his face into it. “Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Dude,” Dean jumped as he heard the familiar voice behind him. Sam walked into his bedroom with beers in hand as well as a greasy brown paper bag. “Is that any way to talk to someone who brought you supplies?”

Dean dropped his pillow on his bed and passed Sam, bumping their shoulders together. “Fuck you. Stop letting yourself in.”

Sam let out a low chuckle but followed him to the small kitchen. “You weren’t going to let me in.”

“Cause you’re nosy, asshat. That’s why.”

They dropped into the kitchen chairs while Sam passed him his food, grinning like an idiot and annoying Dean to no end. Dean liked eating in silence but his brother wouldn’t stop looking at him and smiling. Like he’s hiding something or knows the damn secrets to the universe.

Dean was almost done with his second beer and half his fries when he kicks Sam’s chair. “Just fucking spit it out, Sammy!”

Sam sat up in his chair and leaned in closer to Dean as if he was about to share a secret. As if anybody else was in his apartment to hear them. “Guess who’s back in town?”

“Cas.” Dean quickly answers as he leans back in his chair, his feet resting up on one of the extra chairs, and takes a sip of his beer.

“How’d you-?” Sam blinks at him in shock before shaking his head. “Well, I bet you don’t know that he’s engaged to this guy named-”

“Mick.” Dean rolled his eyes as that name escaped his lips again. “Fucking asshole.”

Sam leans back on his chair, his face dropping into a scowl. “How do you fucking know that?”

Dean shrugs as he takes another fry and dips it in ketchup before chewing on it. Ignoring his brother’s waiting stare. “I just know things.”

“Fuck you.” Sam pushes Dean’s chair back in annoyance. Dean would want to do the same thing but Sam’s chair was now too far away for his legs to reach. “Who told you, dude?”

“Who told you ?” Dean asked back while he scoots back to the table.

“Gabriel. He came looking for Cas at the garage so he told Bobby and me. We also met the dude.”

“Dude? You mean Mick?”

“Yeah. He was pretty chill. He has an accent.”

“Accent?”

“British.”

“Fuck!” How was he even to compete with some fancy British dude? He’s seen the Great British Bake Off. Those people are nice. Cas deserved a nice person. “I don’t wanna see Cas being all gaga for this dude tomorrow.”

“Dude, his Dad is dead. Pretty sure his mind would be somewhere else.” Sam tells him. Watching him with those damn wide eyes that scanned him. Looking for any damn indication that there could be something wrong. “What’s up with you? Are you...wait.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean could read it in his brother’s face. That damn aha moment lit up his whole face.

“Are you still hung up on Cas?” Sam’s grin broke across his face and Dean stood up to walk to his front door.

“Thanks for dropping by, Sammy. Now leave!” He opened the door and motioned Sam to walk through it.

“Hell no!” Sam rested his feet on the empty chair. His arms crossing over his chest as he got comfortable. “My big brother’s high school crush just walked back into town with a ring on his finger and you want me to just - what? Ignore it? Hell no.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice went lower as a warning but Sam didn’t budge.

“Dude, just talk to me!” Sam tells him, opening his arms up as if showing Dean that he is ready to listen. “You used to talk to me about Cas all the time! Hell, you used to talk to me about the guys and girls you’ve been with every other day!”

“That was before.” Dean slammed the door shut knowing Sam wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He dragged his hand down his face as he walked to the couch, not hungry enough to finish eating.

“Before what?”

“Before shit got complicated.” Dean fell into the old couch and didn’t look at his brother. Instead looked down at the beer in his hand, his thumb scraping the label off with elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in his seat. “Before Lisa left me cause I wasn’t ready for a commitment. And then Benny left because I was going too fast. Shit. I haven’t been able to get a damn thing right for a while.”

“And what? You thought Cas would be the answer?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. I just saw him and I felt...better. Lighter.” A smile crept on his face. “He was still wearing that ugly coat Bobby gave him a long time ago.” He chuckled before he cleared his throat. Catching himself falling again.

“You still love him?”

“Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” Dean tells him, a short cold chuckle like breath escaped his mouth as he shook his head. “He doesn’t feel the same way anymore, Sammy.”

“Dean.” It was a quiet sad tone and Dean was gonna tell him to shut it but then he found out why Sam was using that tone on him. Dean was crying.

“Maybe now that Cas moved on. Maybe you can too.” Sam walked over to sit beside him on the couch. Not touching Dean but just being close enough to comfort him. “You can stop waiting for him now.”

That was it, wasn’t it? Dean has been waiting for Cas all these damn years and he didn’t even know it.

“Fuck. I’m so stupid, Sam.” Dean shook his head as he put his beer down on the floor before he covered his face in his hands. “He kissed me too.”

“He kissed you?!” Sam sounded shocked but Dean didn’t look at him.

“Yeah. He did. Told me he missed me too.” Dean hits his head in frustration. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

“You’re not, Dean!” Then Sam’s arms were around him. Pulling him into a sideways hug that Dean was going to push away from but instead he let his little brother hold him. He’ll hate himself for breaking down in front of Sam tomorrow. Right now he needed the comfort. “It’s okay. You can move on now. You know now so you can just move on. Let your heart heal.”

Heal. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice. He thinks to himself as he took a calming breath like Sam always tells him to do.

But if he couldn’t move on 5 years ago, when the kiss was terrible, how was he suppose to move on now? With the taste of Cas and the feel of him in his arms was still burned into his mind? Still fresh. Still new.

Craving it every second he can’t have it.

“I love him, Sammy.” Dean took a shaky breath. “I still love him.” And it’s killing me knowing he doesn’t.

The next morning Dean was standing outside the funeral home with Charlie fussing over his and Sam’s hair. Dean kept loosening his tie while they waited for Bobby to finish the phone call with a customer, letting them know they would be closed for a friend's funeral. Friend is really putting it nicely.

Chuck was a creepy squirrely little guy with anger issues. He was sweet sometimes - like every other psycho - but his controlling nature was always a scary sight. But he helped Bobby keep the shop and helped them pay for the funeral cost of their Mom so he was an honorary friend at least.

Why was Chuck so generous to help them? Fuck if any of them know but they weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s for sure.

“Stop fidgeting, boy!” Bobby slapped Sam’s hand away from him loosening his tie and pulled him down to fix it again.

“Ow! Uncle Bobby, that’s too tight!”

“Stop whining. We’re already late as it is.” He said patting Sam’s shoulders when he was done. Sam made a face of distaste as he rolled his eyes. Lucky for him Bobby didn’t catch him. “Dean come here. Let me fix your damn-”

“No! No. I got it.” Dean smiled reassuringly at him as he quickly tried to fix it but he wasn’t quick enough as Bobby pulled him down to fix it again. Dean groaned as he did tighten it but it was loosened just enough so he wouldn’t struggle to breathe. “Thanks, Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby looked at all three of them with a proud grin. “Now behave yourselves. This family hates us enough.”

“What an encouraging speech.” Dean commented while Charlie grimaced at all of them.

“Just stay in the background and the sooner we can leave without causing a scene the better. Got it?” The three of them nodded half-heartedly. “Good! Let’s go. Keep close.”

They started walking behind Bobby and into the funeral home. Dean kept his eyes down not wanting to look at anyone in the surprisingly crowded place. Well, not surprising. The Novak family was huge. The family of seven was big enough but then add all the damn cousins these guys had and it was a full house. Some people were even standing outside so they could talk.

It took Dean a solid 15 minutes to even find a parking spot - he ended up parking a block away - because the small parking lot quickly filled up.

So with this crowded place, he was hoping he wouldn’t have to bump into Cas. At least not bump into him so soon but of course, he’ll be the one welcoming people in.

“Fuck.” Dean hissed under his breath as his eyes met Cas’s.

Cas stiffened at the sight of him - which always made someone feel welcomed - before he forced a smile. But Dean can still read that face like a damn open book. His jaw is clenched just enough for people not to notice the stiffness while his hands fidgeted into his suit pants pocket. Yeah, well, Dean was uncomfortable too. Cas ain’t special.

Dean’s eyes traveled down Cas’s body and - bless him father cause he wants to sin - Cas looked great in a damn black floral suit. It was well fitted. Probably tailored since that is the type of family the Novak’s were and lucky for Dean it hugged him in all the right places. Dean’s eyes drifted to down only to notice there was a hand wrapped around his lower back.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

“Hey, Cas.” Sam stepped in front of him first and wrapped Cas into one of his big bear hugs. “Nice seeing you again but I’m sorry for your loss.”

Cas barely had his chin on Sam’s shoulder as he patted Sam’s back awkwardly. “Thank you, Sam.” Cas pulled back to smile at him. “I hope we can catch up before I leave. I would like to hear more about your studies on witchcraft.”

“How’d you-?” Sam asked but Cas motioned at the guy standing next to him. The guy that just had his arms around Cas’s waist. As if claiming him.

“Michael told me you two talked yesterday.” And then Cas turned to look at Dean. “Mick I know you meet Sam and Bobby but this is Sam’s older brother. Dean.”

Fuck you, Cas.

“Oh, Dean! I heard a lot about you from my Cas here.” He nudged Cas, who awkwardly laughed before he held his hand out for Dean to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Fuck this fucker and his dumb accent. Dean narrows his eyes at him, trying to read him. As if he would see any red flags or alarms over his head. But he looked like someone he would root for on the British Bake Off and he hated him for that.

Charlie nudged him to shake the outstretched hand but Dean wouldn’t budge. He instead shrugged at him. “Um, germs, man. But nice to meet one of Cas’s friends.”

Charlie pinched his arm at that comment while Cas rolled his eyes, his shoulders dropping with a tired sigh before he glared at Dean. Mick only laughed as he took his hand back but then he wrapped it around Cas’s waist again and Dean regretted not preoccupying that fucking hand.

“Fiance actually.” Mick grinned up at Cas who strained a smile. “Hmm, I figured Sam would have told you.”

Dean mocked a smile. “Oh, he did! Shit must have slipped my mind.”

“Dean.” Cas almost growled at him.

Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a second before swallowing hard. He turned his hard smile on Cas. “I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Cas, we’ll keep an eye on him.” Sam tells him as he starts to shove Dean ahead where Bobby already disappeared to find a chair in some sad corner probably.

“Um, sorry for your loss.” Charlie gave Cas a quick hug. “Oh, I’m Charlie by the way. New best friend but it’s nice to meet you! I mean...wished it was under better circumstances but what can you do?”

She started to nervously laugh and Sam tugged at her arm to drag her along as well.

“Bye!” Charlie waved at them awkwardly, Dean saw Cas wave back with a grin and raised an eyebrow, before she sighed. “Wow, that was awkward.”

“Oh, you think so?” Dean sarcastically says while Sam’s too big arm wraps around his shoulders, probably to hold him in place. “This place better have an open bar.”

“It’s a funeral, Dean. Not a damn party.”

“Meh.” Dean shrugged before they found Bobby in the back row sneaking a sip of a flask. “Give it here, old man!”

#Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #WormstacheWrites #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #mutual pinning #angst #destiel au #hey is this considered slow burn?#only a few chapters left I promise

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wincestismyguiltypleasure · 4 years ago

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Warnings: Weecest, a little angsty, jealous!Sam, bratty, emotional, and confused baby brother content, feminization, name calling, humiliation, sadist!Dean, spankings, and of course, that sweet, sweet fucked up codependency. 💋

--------------

Sam just wanted Dean's attention. He always had.

And when he didn't get it, Sam felt not only emotionally, but physically injured by his brother's "neglect." Like Dean had taken his switchblade to Sam's heart, cutting it open just a little bit to play with it. As if he was curious to what was inside. Like Dean had no clue know that every vein, artery, and nerve worked in unison for him.

And over the years, that small wound had ripped open wider and wider on it's own, even though it was no secret that Dean's life had always revolved around Sam.

Perhaps it was a product of Sam's jealousy? His resentment towards John and the unshakable devotion Dean showed him?

Sam didn't really know. But no matter the cause, what was once a dull ache in Sam's chest was now a blinding pain. The only hope of soothing it resting solely on his big brother's touch.

And the worst part about it? Dean knew. He knew Sam was desperate for something so simple as a sideways glance or a pat on the back. Sam would poke and prod and tug at the hem of Dean's shirt for just the slightest bit of recognition, like he really didn't know that he was already the very center of his big brother's entire world.

It was infuriating sometimes, and it made Dean want to be cruel just to prove a point. Besides, at the end of the day, Dean was still Sam's big brother. Ignoring him was part of Dean's job description. And maybe, just maybe, Dean got a sick sense of satisfaction out of making Sammy beg like a slut for something that was already his.

"Dean, c'mon! Pay attention!"

John had only been gone for ten minutes before Sam was shaking Dean's leg violently, trying to make his brother look up from the magazine he was reading.

"Jesus Christ, Sam. Can't you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?"

Dean doesn't have to see Sam's face to know the younger boy is pouting; the corner of his lips turning up in a twisted smirk at the thought of his little brother's pretty eyes starting to water.

There's no answer to Dean's question, just a loud huff and the sound of the bathroom door slamming, rusty screws barely keeping it on the hinges.

And if Dean didn't get such a kick out of being an asshole to his needy little brother he might have felt bad for hurting Sam's feelings. But he doesn't, mainly because this was all part of the sick, fucked up game they'd been playing since Sam had turned sixteen. This volatile give and take, back and forth, born out of Sam's misguided pain. The younger boy thinking that Dean loved John more than him and Dean's cutthroat determination to prove his little brother wrong. To show Sam that even if he isn't looking, he's still paying attention. And that he couldn't stop paying attention to Sam even if he tried.

Honestly, Dean still gets a little hot under the collar thinking about the first Sammy pushed his buttons like this. He'd been both mortified and so disgustingly turned on when he found out that his sweet baby brother knew just how to act bratty and coy to get fucked through the mattress. God, Dean was so pissed and guilty about it at the time that he'd almost thrown up afterwards.

Even now, Dean feels kinda queasy. But the feeling is so simple to ignore this go around because he's also rock hard and shaking a little from the anticipation.

Oh, and of course, Sam makes him wait. Almost two fucking hours. Tiny beads of water still dripping from the younger boy's long, dirty blonde hair when Sam finally emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of lacy blue panties and a triumphant smile.

"Seriously, Samuel?" Dean asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady as he tosses his magazine to the side and sits up.

But Sam, being the shameless little tease that he is, just grins wider and does a slow turn. Making sure to show off every sharp curve and flawless inch of sun kissed skin he had before looking over at Dean and giggling.

"Think you can ignore me now, big brother?"

Sam barely gets the words out before Dean is off the bed, marching over to him with purpose, not stopping until the two of them are only a few inches apart and his baby brother's eyes are wide with fear.

"What do you want, Sam?" The older boy asks through gritted teeth, even though the answer is so painfully obvious.

And even though it is, Sam can't say it. He's never been able to because it's Dean's job to know. Without Dean guiding the way, Sam's just a confused kid with a need so intense and overwhelming that it could swallow him whole. And it would, if it wasn't for Dean.

Dean knows what Sam wants, and Sam hates the fact that he doesn't hate his brother for making him feel this way.

But still, he can't talk and he can't explain, so instead Sam just whines. Taking a timid step forward into his brother's personal space, searching for pity with those big innocent doe eyes. And fuck, does that do the trick. Every. Single. Time.

"What, baby?" Dean asks again, this time softer, his expression lightening as he grabs Sam by the wrist to pull him closer.

"Dean."

Sam's knees feel wobbly. His heart threatening to pound out of his chest because there's nothing in the world more intoxicating and simultaneously terrifying than looking into Dean's gorgeous green eyes when they're full of rage and passion.

"You want this?" Dean's voice is rough, like cigarette smoke blown over shattered glass as he guides Sam's trembling hand between his thighs. Pressing his little brother's warm palm hard against his erection before he makes Sam squeeze just a little, the both of them letting out a breathy groan.

"Please Dean," Sam whimpers, knees nearly buckling when Dean leans forward with a filthy grin, cherry red lips ghosting lightly over Sam's. The older boy teasing him like he always did. Pretending like wasn't eventually going to give Sam everything he wanted and more.

"Say it."

Sam's stomach clenches at the command, throat going dry because he hates this part. (Or at least Sam pretends that he does.)

"I want..." Sam groans, eyes closed tight as Dean nuzzles against him, making Sam go crazy with need. "I want your cock. Please Dean."

When Sam hears Dean chuckle, a low, filthy sound that makes his insides feel unbearably hot, Sam almost starts crying again. He's so naive and inexperienced compared to Dean. And Dean knows Sam feels like an idiot when his big brother makes him talk dirty. Which is exactly why he does it. The bastard.

"I know you do, baby boy," Dean laughs as he takes a step back, and Sam swears he feels his heart detach and drop into his stomach. Long, bony fingers instinctively trying to curl around Dean's shirt but to no avail.

"Dean-"

Sam's temper tantrum is cut short when Dean sits down on the foot of the bed and raises a hand, the look on his face calm but dangerous and it makes Sam almost swallow his own tongue.

"C'mere and lay across my lap."

"Why should I?"

Sam's voice doesn't sound like his own when he challenges his brother. It's weak and breathless and honestly, Sam can't believe an apex predator like Dean didn't go for his throat right then and there.

"You've been buckin' for my attention all day, sweetheart. You got a better way to get it?"

God, Sam wishes he did because the last thing he wants is to give in so easily. But what Sam's been dying for is right here in front of him now. Ripped jeans wrapped tight around thick thighs that he'd sell his soul to be bent over and Sam isn't about to turn down an open invitation.

"Gotta hand it to you, little brother," Dean says when Sam's finally stretched out across his lap. Sam's pretty face, flushed and tear stained, hidden in the mattress as Dean starts to soflty rub circles against his ass. "Despite all that fuss, you really are an obdient little bitch."

"Fuc-"

Sam nearly gags on his insult when he feels Dean's palm, rough and warm, connect with his right ass cheek. The blow hard enough to make his whole body jerk, tears of frustration rather than pain starting to blur his vision as he squirms in Dean's lap.

"Dean, please," Sam begs, his tight panties completely soaked through as he rubs himself desperately against Dean's thigh. His cock so hard and swollen that he feels a little dizzy, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance in his mind. Every one of his nerve endings on fire as Dean continues his ruthless assault. Each gentle touch followed by a thunderous smack that Sam swears makes his teeth rattle.

"Hey, don't cry, baby boy," Dean whispers when one of his rough blows finally rips a sob from Sam's throat. "This is what you wanted right? My undivided attention?"

Sam chokes back the urge to tell Dean that he hates him. One, because he doesn't. They both know that. And two, because if Sam doesn't swallow his pride soon and play by Dean's rules, he knows he'll never get want he really wants. That's what all this is about after all. Sam's insatiable need and Dean's absolute willingness to provide.

"C'mon, Sammy. You're a smart kid, you know what your answer should be."

Sam's only response is a loud, wanton groan, his knuckles turning chalk white around the blanket beneath him when he feels the tip of Dean's finger, rough and slick with spit, tease his rim. Pressing just hard enough to make Sam's hips jerk, but not applying quite enough pressure to slip inside him.

"Yes," Sam croaks, daring to push back against his brother's finger only to be rewarded with a smack to his right ass cheek that makes him see stars. "This is what I wanted."

"I know it is, slut."

Dean's finger feels wetter this time, hotter. And Sam's not expecting his brother to push in so deep, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when Dean barely grazes his prostate, clearly torturing Sam for all the shit he'd put him through that day. An eye for an eye was most definitely the Winchester way.

"You want me to finger fuck this tight little pussy until you make a mess all over your cute panties, don't ya baby boy?"

"Yes! Fuck Dean please." Sam isn't even trying to hold back his sobs now, big salty tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiggles around in Dean's lap. Desperate for his big brother to fuck him deeper. But before he can get the leverage he needs, Sam's empty again, mouth hanging open as Dean's next blow makes his whole body rock forward involuntary, neglected cock throbbing painfully against the worn denim of his brother's jeans.

"I'll give you want you want, Sammy," Dean coos, caressing Sam's battered skin with his palm. "I always do. But first, I'm gonna teach you a lesson about acting like a brat."

Of course, Sam's been taught this lesson before and it hasn't seemed to stick. But it doesn't matter, because they both know as long as Sam craves his big brother's attention, Dean will gladly put him in his place give it to him.

#weecest #Wincest

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supernatural-love14 · 4 years ago

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Crossroad Demon

Series Summary: After a hunt goes wrong. You make a deal to bring back Sam, but to hold up your end of the deal, you have to become the one thing you hate the most. Will Dean and Sam be able to save you?

Chapter Summary: It is now time to end the chapter for Dean and the Reader, with their bright future ahead of them.

Warnings: Fluff. love. Happy Ending!

Pairings: Dean x Female reader, Sam x Female reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 905

SPOTIFY Chapter Music: Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith, Perfect Duet by Ed Sheeran & Beyonce, Heaven by Bryan Adams, Can You Feel the Love Tonight by Elton John.

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

Main Masterlist

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← Part 7

Epilogue

~ 5 YEAR LATER ~

It's been five years since Dean admitted his feelings to me and my feelings to his, since I had turned into a demon and those boys helped cure me. Dean has been so amazing, not only helping me through my nightmares and getting over the fact that I was a demon but also how much he shows he loves me.

After we admitted our feelings for each other, we started dating. Nothing ever fancy or expensive because I didn’t need that with Dean. All I needed was him. It started off slow but Dean continued to show every ounce of love, even though he isn’t the best at expressing his feelings.

Life was going amazing. Dean wanted to do everything ‘properly’ as he kept telling me. Before we started dating as girlfriend and boyfriend, we went on some small dates, going for coffee, movies, dinner. Where nothing much really happened except spending time together. It was around the third date when we ‘properly kissed’. But other than that Dean had kept his hands to himself. Unsure of making any moves, I didn't want to move too fast.

I remember that day so clearly, he was anxious by the end of the date, fiddling with his hands. Not really sure what to do as he walked me back to his room. We said goodnight to each other at least three times, not wanting to leave each other but even when I offered for him to stay the night with me, he declined saying it wasn’t the right moment, it was too early for it. Such a gentleman. As I turned around to go into my room, I felt a hand on my wrist, a gentle touch, pulling me back as another hand reached around my waist pulling me into him. Our noses touched as our breaths mingled together, not either one of us sure what to do in the moment, before Dean finally made a decision.

Leaning in slowly as if giving me a moment to move away if I wanted to, his lips touched mine. Nothing harsh or quick, it was slow and soft. I had instantly kissed back, but it didn’t go any further, it was just a soft kiss. One that I didn't want to end.

As the kiss ended, Dean leaned his forehead against mine, the both of us grinning like mad as he whispered a final goodnight. A quick kiss reached my lips but before I could return it he had already moved away, walking down the corridor to his room. I couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he fist pumped in the air before walking into his room. It was the most amazing night of my life, well until the next date happened…

The first time Dean made love to me, it felt different for the both of us. It wasn’t rushed, it didn’t feel like it was a one night stand. I could feel the love between us, that everything he did was real and true. It felt like the day he said ‘I love you’ to me. I knew from that moment onwards there would be no one else for me.

As a couple of years went on, Dean had for the first time taken me to this fancy restaurant - which I wasn’t fussed about but Dean kept telling me that it was a special day. Honestly at the time I had no idea what he was going on about till we were halfway through the dinner, he dropped down on one knee with a ring in his hand, asking me to be his wife. I had never been more surprised in my life that Dean would actually want to marry me, it would have never bothered me if he didn’t want to get married.

The wedding itself happened a year later, a small ceremony surrounded by friends and family in the bunker itself. I specifically didn’t want this fancy big wedding, honestly would have just married him in the bedroom. Jody and the girls helped decorate the bunker, making it more fitting for a wedding, tables moved aside in the library to make room for an aisle. They became the bridesmaids. The dresses were simple. Nothing too drastic. The white simplistic dress that you were able to get second hand fit perfectly around your figure. The beautiful bridesmaid dresses looked amazing on the girls. Even the guys looked amazing from their FBI suits.

Walking down that aisle, seeing Dean standing at the end - his goofy smile brightening up the room, that couldn’t stop me from smiling myself. Cas was standing next to him as the marriage officiant while Sam was the best man. All of our friends and family were sitting in the rows of chairs, the smiles beaming throughout the room.

The service was beautiful and the reception was even amazing. To see Dean willingly dancing with me. There were so many times I nearly cried. When Sam said his hilarious speech, to mine and Dean’s first dance.

At the end of the night, I remember Dean sweeping me off my feet, his laugh contagious as I squealed in delight heading to our room for a glorious night. There are no words really to describe how our lives have changed dramatically. And even through everything we’ve been through, nothing can change for what will happen next. Our little baby boy.

← Part 7

A/N: Well that is the end of Crossroad Demon. I would like to thank everyone who has read this series. Your feedback and love for this story has been amazing. This was one of my first series and writing I have ever done on Tumblr and to see it finally completed is amazing!!

COMMENT AND REBLOG. FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED.

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#Crossroad Demon #crossroads #crossroad #demon #dean winchester #dean #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #eventual dean x reader #sam #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #fluff #angst

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deantransgressions2 · 4 years ago

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10x23 brother's keeper

#1: no comment

"they let her leave the house looking like a whore" (talking about a young dead girl)

time tag: 2:33

#2: rudy told dean about a case and met him at the crime scene. dean demanded he leaves, even though it was actually rudy’s case, not dean’s.

dean: "yeah, not today you're not. i'm gonna need you to take a walk on this one."

rudy: "uh, okay? except uh, except i called you, so, uh, if anybody's walking, it's..."

time tag: 3:25

#3: he just started bullying rudy so no reason.

dean: "oh, you called me? no, no. you begged me. just like tuscaloosa, just like old lyme, we both know you're playing dress up out here, and it's just a matter of time before you get yourself killed. so why don't you take that walk and let the real hunters do the work?"

time tag: 3:35

#4: a "slut" is a social construct built out of misogyny, so if you ever think of someone as a "slut" then, you are therefore a misogynist. it’s very simple.

some dad: "by suggesting my daughter was a slut?"

dean: "i'll admit that thought crossed my mind."

time tag: 7:15

#5: he admitted he was originally blaming the dead woman for her own death because she was a "slut"

time tag: 7:27

#6: sigh. when will this man stop using misogynistic language..

"no wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her."

imagine thinking women only wear clothing for validation...imagine thinking women exist just for male attention...

time tag: 7:28

#7: pointed a gun at a child.

time tag: 8:18

#8: taunted and convinced a vampire into killing rudy.

time tag: 12:12

#9: destroyed a motel room that i'm sure he didn’t pay the damages for.

time tag: 13:47

#10: lured sam to the bar under false pretenses.

time tag: 24:17

#11: he was fully content to kill his brother to save himself and others. which big picture i guess is okay, except dean didn't exactly give sam a choice. also let's be real, killing sam was the most irreverent and unnecessary part of this whole plan. they justified killing him because he would "never rest" until he saved dean. which, like, isn't true. we all know if dean had thoroughly explained the darkness, and made sam promise to leave the mark alone, he literally would have. truth is death just really wanted to kill sam <3 and dean doesn't have the brain cells at the minute to realize killing sam makes no sense <3

time tag: 24:36

#12: dean was prepared to kill sam just to fix his own mistake. it's pathetic.

sam: "you traded my life."

dean: "i'm willing to live with this thing forever, as long as i know that i and it will never hurt another living thing."

let's chat. sam was willing to die in s4 to stop the apocalypse by killing lilith and get revenge for dean. sam died in s5 to save the world and therefore dean as well. sam was willing to die in s8 to save the world and therefore make dean's life easier. sam was willing to die in mids10 in order to get a codex that would save dean. NOW let's talk about dean. dean died in s3 as a result of saving sam (this one's ok). dean tried to "save" the world and therefore sam in s5 by planning to say yes to michael, which in turn would have burned half the planet. dean saved sam's life in s8 by lying to and violating sam. dean tried saving the world and therefore sam in s9 by recklessly accepting the mark, which in turn got many people killed and even more injured. dean tried saving the world in s10 by murdering his brother and then shipping himself off to the moon or some shit.

do you see the difference? do you see what's wrong here? i'll wait.

time tag: 25:50

#13: when in doubt blame sam!! when in doubt yell at sam!!

sam: "this doesn't make any sense"

dean: "no, it makes perfect sense if you stop thinking about yourself for one damn minute!"

time tag: 26:09

#14: attempted to guilt sam into cooperating by bringing up an old situation that was so completely different than the one they were currently in.

dean: "remember when we were in that church, making crowley human, about to close the gates of hell? well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then."

sam: *said some bs about dean doing the right thing after 8x23 which isn’t true and we know sam agrees*

dean: "and i was wrong. you were right, sam. you knew that this world would be better without us in it."

sam: "you're twisting my words here dean"

time tag: 28:20

#15: more emotional manipulation.

dean: "i know what i am, sam. but who are you when you...when you drove that man to sell his soul...or when you bullied charlie into getting herself killed? and to what end? a-a good end? a just end? to remove the mark no matter the consequences? sam, how is that not evil?"

dean is living in a separate reality as the rest of us. or his amnesia is in full swing today because none of what he said is true.

time tag: 29:25

#16: he again reiterated that he will kill sam and sam has no say in the matter.

time tag: 30:32

#17: sam punched dean, which was justified considering dean was trying to murder him?? but dean decided to fight back so that as a result of the assault, sam would be broken, hurt, and compliant in dean's plan to murder him.

time tag: 30:34

#18: sam submitted himself to dean's will and plan. he agreed to die just because dean wanted him to. it’s unbelievably unsettling, this is not codependency or familial love, this is emotional abuse, manipulation, and fear. and dean has always gotten off on that. sam kneeling on the floor, looking up to dean, who holds all the power, as blood runs down his face...:/

time tag: 32:30

#19: asked sam to close his eyes. oh boohoo....what a wimp. he made this big fuss about sam needing to die, then brutally attacked him, and now he wants sam to close his eyes???? what a hypocritical baby.

time tag: 33:21

#20: killed death. death! worst thing dean ever did. i miss him already.

time tag: 35:04

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tintentrinkerin · 3 years ago

Text

Harness & Spears Chapter 6/10

Warning: oral sex

Read below the cut or on AO3

It was a drive of around 6 hours and Sam and Jack needed to take two short breaks to refuel the car and Jack needed some fresh air one hour before they reached their destination. He got travel sick for the first time ever. But they took another car, neither the Impala nor the car Jack drove when he sneaked to Gilead. Jack still felt weird when they arrived at the motel.

Checking in was quick. Jack was surprised which motel Sam chose and Sam just gave him a smirk.

“This is luxurious!”, Jack calls out when they enter their room on the fourth floor.

“Yes, it is luxurious compared to what Dean and I are used to, we lived in really shabby stinky rooms more than once.”

Sam is wise enough to not just start telling tales of the ‘good old times’ with Dean, because that is not what Jack wants to hear right now. Dean is a topic they will avoid for as long as they’re here.

“I would say, I unpack our stuff, prepare some tea and you get better with your sickness, hm?”

Jack turns around. He isn’t that sick anymore, but Sam just offered him some pampering, how could Jack say no to that?

“Are you sure? I can help you with unpacking.”

Sam already opened his suitcase and now starts packing folded shirts and shorts in the cupboard. He turns around to Jack with a grin.

“It’s no bother, just unwind a little, take a nap while I unpack. Won’t take long.”

Jack fills the electric cattle with water and chooses a tea from the tea table. He hasn’t seen any of these so far, it seems very european, at least that’s what Sam told him, when he once was in Ireland. But he is also super curious what Sam packed. While the kettle starts working and Jack chooses fennel tea he looks over to Sam. It looks like he packed a lot for a week trip. Sam is the neater of the two brothers and carries extra underwear, even a hair dryer, three pairs of shoes. They haven’t decided on which disguise yet, but since it was a ghost hunt that had zero body count yet, they would maybe go with the ‘paranormal activity journalist’ thing, even though Jack loved also being FBI. After Cas told him after the teddy bear case he probably wasn’t the best actor in the field, he would let Sam talk anyway. Sam was big and earnest and super convincing.

Jack hears a rustling and how Sam hurries to hide what he was about to unpack back in his rucksack.

“What was that?”, Jack asks with a raised eyebrow.

On their drive here Sam chose to do the whole ride and while riding shotgun Jack played on his smartphone and he did what he always does since he and Sam are together. He educates himself about sex. He knows Sam will show him everything one day and also answer a lot of questions, but some things he just doesn’t spill. Jack is dying for answers, all the time, every waking minute with Sam. And that looked like a foil package of condoms.

Sam blushes and zips his bag, avoiding eye contact.

“Nothing, nothing that’s important.”

The kettle is done and Jack fills a mug with hot water and adds to bags of tea. He likes his tea strong and intense.

“Sam, that looked like condoms.”

Sam looks like caught in the act. And then he lets his shoulders hang.

“Yes, but it’s an old bag, I- I didn’t unpack it completely. They might have expired anyway.”

Jack is a little disappointed. Of course he had his hopes high for a second.

“Hey, baby, please don’t be disappointed.”

Sam shuffles the bag aside and invites Jack on the big king size bed. Damn it would be the perfect occasion. They’re alone and what did Sam just say yesterday? That he wants to be with Jack. And yes, yes, they are together almost all the time and they do the most exciting and thrilling things, Jack is regularly blown away and unable to form coherent statements when Sam is done with him, but… deep inside Jack he is aching for what people call ‘the first time’ and make a big fuss about. Jack reads a lot. He doesn’t like adult movies or porn, though, it’s tacky and he feels like this kind of intercourse in porn doesn’t resemble in the slightest what Sam and him would have. But how could he know if Sam didn’t show him?

Jack follows the invitation after a little hesitation, gets out of his shoes and opens his jeans, his belly hurts and Sam told him reducing pressure would, thus unbuttoning his pants or take them off completely. Sam also is barefoot now, out of his pants and Jack dives in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I know you want it. And I didn’t want to raise your hopes.”

“Is this all because I’m a virgin and you would be my first? And you have to stay pure and a virgin for as long as possible”, Jack asks quietly.

“Did you browse weird purity websites, Jack? Virginity is just a concept. The human body is made for having sex at one point in their life. That’s why you go through puberty, start having sexual feelings, breasts and penis grow, wet dreams, periods… all of this. Shaming someone for having sex is like shaming monkeys to climb trees. It’s bullshit. It’s sexist. I love being your first, but not because I think you’d be ‘unclean’ if someone else before me had sex with you, I just like the intimacy, being able to get to know you well enough to know what’s the best pleasurable way for you. And I’m very damn glad Hunter didn’t lay a finger on you.”

“But why don’t we have sex then?”, Jack asks with a trembling ache in his chest.

“You might be a virgin, but why I’m going slow is because I like going slow per se. I had sexual encounters that happened on the day the person and I met, and it was passionate and great and all, but… you remember the tacky jokes from Cas and Dean, that my cock is deadly?”

Jack chuckles, then nods. “Yeah.”

“That really happened a lot. I thought I liked someone, and then they were possessed by a demon, were a werewolf, I even had a sexual relationship with someone from whom I knew was a demon and that was even the whole point. I did it when I was mourning Dean. Later Dean stabbed her after-”

Sam swallows deeply.

“She, Ruby, was responsible for Lucifer to be freed from the Cage the first time. She tricked us into opening all the portals.”

“Oh. I don’t know what to say, Sam. I’m sorry.”

“None of this is your fault.” Sam says with a bitter undertone. “Back to the actual topic. I’ve been through a lot of experiences that seemed pleasant maybe, sexually, but in the end they got hurt, or I got hurt. I had a lot of people violate my body.”

Jack stiffens and attempts to get up, protesting.

“I would never-”, he calls out.

“Yes, you wouldn’t . I know that.”

But your maker did , Sam thinks bitterly. But when he looks at Jack, he sees Cas. Never Lucifer. And still he has issues to fully give in.

“But, Sam… I wished we could go further. I know you think I’m just a horny teenager but I feel-”, Jack clears his throat and winds out of the embrace to take a sip of his tea. It’s hot and he burns his tongue.

“I really like you, Sam, I want to be as close to you as possible. It’s a consuming feeling, it’s eating me up. I would say it’s wildly romantic to be so horny for each other, but I’m aching inside for you. Sam… I-”

Jack can’t make himself say it. “I want you so bad. ”

Sam takes the cup out of Jack’s hand and puts it on the nightstand. Slowly pulling Jack in his hug again, this time in his lap. Jack melts everytime when Sam does that and Jack can see in Sam’s face that he knows.

“Jack, believe me, I want you too. I want you a lot. It’s hard to resist you, oh, sometimes I feel like it’s impossible.”

It’s wonderful to hear that, it’s healing the aching, but only for a little and Jack knows it will come back at him even worse. He sighs and enjoys the shivers down his spine when Sam’s hand circles on his back, between his shoulder blades; a familiar motion. Never failing to make Jack either even hotter or calm him down. Sometimes it’s hard for him to differ which feeling is which. With Sam everything is right and upside down at the same time. Secretly Jack envies all of Sam’s lovers. And to hell with it, he is jealous that Dean had to have Sam so close for all these years, see him in puberty, see him maybe feeling lust for the first time-

It takes Jack a second to realize he’s just thinking about brothers, just that with the Winchesters nothing really surprises him anymore. Not even his own fantasy of teenage Sam, in full hormonal rage, humping pillows, like Jack once did when he didn’t know what the feeling he experienced really meant and how to prolong or end it.

“You’re still very victorious of resisting my qualities.”

“You sound like a dandy”, Sam chuckles, “Believe me it’s a daily struggle to not just…”

Jack’s stomach sinks and his groin is painfully hard and hot in a matter of milliseconds.

“Not just what, Sam?”, he whispers.

Sam turns both of them around and Jack lands on his back, squealing a little. It’s such an innocent, young sound that Jack has to recognise himself he sounds young and inexperienced. Sam shoves Jack’s shirt up to his armpits.

“Sam?”

Jack’s voice is shaky.

“I will show you how much I want you, okay?”

“I’m certainly not stopping you, please show me.”

He pushes up on his arms, looking down at Sam, who pulls down Jack’s shorts.

“How’s your stomach?”, he asks, kissing Jack’s abs.

Oh, fuck. Jack has to let his head fall back and he stares on the ceiling, thin blue waves dancing in his eyesight.

“My stomach? Miracle cure” he says with a raw groan.

As soon as Sam touches him in a certain way, Jack just elevates, his senses focus on what they’re doing and probably the motel could just go down in a blast of flames and Jack wouldn’t even notice he’s burning alive.

Sam’s long hair tickles Jack’s skin and he chuckles and winds a little, Sam holds him steady, there will always be one strong arm along Jack’s spine, supporting him, showing him that Sam won’t let go. And that he’s Sam’s. Jack would never ever let anyone else touch him like that. One hand digs deep in Sam’s hair, strong brown streaks, slightly curling. Unsure if to push him further down or pull him back up Jack just holds on, feels for Sam’s lips, his slick and talented tongue, waiting for the next sensation, waiting for his own wishes to form words, then sentences.

“Sam, I want you, I don’t wanna wait any longer…”

The kisses upwards stop and Sam looks up, lips wet and glistening, tongue flicking over his lower lip. It’s obscene as it is beautiful.

“I will make it worth the wait, Jack. Believe me, there are so many unbelievably good things we can do…”

“I want you… really, I want you… inside me.” Jack’s words splatter out of his mouth and he’s aroused yet a little ashamed.

Sam hikes up completely and lays Jack down. Kisses the ‘but’s and ‘when’s and ‘want’s away. Jack struggles, frustrated and horny, mood shifting between whiny and angry.

“You will, Jack. You will get everything you want and more. Please give it a little more time. It won’t be long, I promise. I know how you feel.”

A single mad tear rolls down Jack’s face.

“Sam, I want to be so much closer, I need to feel part of you in me…”

Sam kisses away the tear, tastes the salt. Jack is a shaking, needy mess, legs spread, shirt shoved up under his chin. Nipples hard, goosebumps all over and a raging hard cock between them.

“Are my fingers okay, too?”

Jack nods frantically. He remembers the orgasm that was so mind blowing and got ruined by Dean and Cas running into them.

“Yes, again, please.”

And Sam is a keeper of his promises.

Jack is shaken to the core before Sam even penetrates him. It’s a delight to see, only the sight of Jack’s golden eyes, the slight quakes, he’s so responsive in a unique way and it’s only for Sam. If Jack only knew how hard it really is for him to not just take the boy here and now, thrust in this perfect pale mannequin body, Sam has never seen anything so breathtaking. Of course he wants to feel Jack’s insides, he wants to drain the last drop of cum out of him while Jack rides him, GOD , Sam would do a lot to experience that in a complete guilt free and perfect way, like Jack deserves. Part of him wants to mark the naphil as his, show everyone that Sam is the luckiest man alive, because Jack chose him. Damn, fucking him until he’s loose and barely able to utter anything else than faint moans or sobs, yes, Sam wants to make Jack never forget the sex they’ll have. But he can’t. Not yet.

If Jack only knew that corrupting something so beautiful, so rare, so graceful strikes Sam with such terror -- to do it wrong. To disappoint.

If Jack only knew that Sam isn’t the strong indestructible man he might appear like. That things inside him are just broken and cannot be fixed. And it could destroy what they have. And Sam can’t have Jack shatter on the truth. He wants Jack to shatter on his body, shaking and in extacy. And in perfect bliss.

“Sam, please”, Jack coos.

Sam will not just give Jack his fingers, he’ll give him his tongue and mouth. Jack’s cock is full, red, tip glossy with precum Sam spread across already. He doesn’t hesitate to press the tip of his tongue on the bundle of nerves right underneath the glans while wrapping his lips around the tip. Jack sounds broken, his hips jerk and he simultaneously tries to pull away, his hands in Sam’s hair.

“Sam, so much! It’s so much!”

“Is it good much or bad much, baby?”

“Good”, Jack admits, “it was in a movie and when I saw it…”

Jack covers his mouth with his shivering hand, biting his finger.

“It was good?”

Jack nods.

“I won’t go on if you think it’s too much.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know Sam, it’s really hot, but what if I spill…”

Sam chuckles.

“Don’t worry about it.”

While talking he gently keeps jerking and Jack relaxes a little.

“I don’t want you to stop Sam, I want all of it.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, please keep going. Can I watch you?”

Jack looks down and Sam sees nothing but longing in his eyes. Good.

Sam laughs. “Of course, feel free.”

Jack already tastes a little salty from precum and Sam goes slow, it’s a new sensation and it’s just a matter of time until Jack won’t be able to hold his orgasm anymore. Sam risked it to take two fingers for Jack this time, circling his sweet spot steadily and sucking him in the same slow torturing rhythm. Jack’s hand in his hair clenches and relaxes before also his other hand grasps for some loose strands. His noises are so sweet, Sam’s cock jumps and aches with every new little ‘oh’ or whispered name it’s harder to stay patient and noble. Sam’s primitive part wants to go on without any mercy, suck Jack off, fuck this tight sweet ass with until he’s sore and force orgasm after orgasm out of this beautiful boy.

Jack’s breath hitches and his hips thrust up in Sam’s mouth, not enough to make him gag but enough to make his mouth water even more, make the blowjob sloppy and full of wet noises. Immediate reactions. Moaning. Fingernails scratching his scalp.

“Sam! I’m….”

Jack doesn’t need to finish that sentence, Sam can feel it coming. Jack’s cock grows even harder, a little bigger - or is that wishful thinking? - and Sam can’t resist to swallow as deep as possible, his fingers ramming into that tight hole -- fuck, Sam is about to cum himself untouched just by how Jack feels, tastes and these sounds. Fuck, these sounds should be forbidden.

“Close”, Jack cries, “Sam, so close!”

Sam would love to answer, give Jack some encouraging answers but he can’t stop now. He wants to feel Jack filling his mouth, he wants everything Jack can give right now. It should be painful, how Jack clings onto his hair, pulling and ripping. It isn’t.

With some firm and frantic rubs of Jack’s prostate and Sam moaning with his mouth full of cock the boy arches his back and cries so sweetly, his legs crossed behind Sam’s back start pressing them even closer together, his hands push and pull.

“I’m coming”, Jack’s voice is clear as a bell, no trembling.

And then he shoots his cum, thick hot spurts in Sam’s mouth and while Jack gasps and moans so loud the neighbors might hear, Sam swallows and keeps stroking, keeps sucking.

If Sam only looked up, he could see the molten glowing honey shade of Jack’s angel eyes, wide open, his shaking body and a faint blue light illuminating the face perfectly shaped like marble, Grace surrounding him like a halo.

Light bulbs pop and TV starts crackling -- just seconds later everything turns quiet.

Sam looks up, catching the rest of cum with his thumb from his lips and licks it up. Jack looks down at him, his eyes teary and still shining a little.

“Sam…”, he croaks.

Sam crawls up and Jack immediately snuggles up into an embrace.

“Did you just cause a blackout?”, Sam asks with a grin.

Jack sobs. “I think so... It was…”

“Yes, I felt it. Overwhelming?”

“I still feel like I’m shaking…”

Sam hugs him tighter. “You are still shaking a little. I will hold you.”

It takes a little for them to calm down. Actually, Sam can’t calm down, he is tenting his boxer briefs. There’s no way to hide it. Jack shifts, a hand runs under the fabric. Sam forgets to breathe for a moment.

“You don’t have to”, he whispers.

Jack doesn’t stop.

“But I want to.”

#harness&spears #chapter 6/10 #sin is sinning #winkline #samjack #jack kline #sam winchester

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sapphia · 4 years ago

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alright so i don’t write fanfiction anymore and i haven’t even really been in this fandom for years, but if i was writing supernatural, here’s how the destiel thing would have played out:

they gay plotline would happen about season 9-11, pacing wise. cas and dean are close and have a shared bond, and know each other pretty well at this point, but things haven’t started getting repetitive yet plot wise. the season big bad is irrelevant because lets be honest they’re all pretty much the same.

dean and cas have spent their time in purgatory together, and i’d move the purgatory reveal flashbacks from season 15 into season 8 alongside the normal flashbacks.

you have your usual series opener in episode one with the massive conflict semi-resolving but also setting up the season’s big bad. at this point in episode one, cas sacrifices himself for dean specifically, but also helping advance the “mission�� - however, while one of them had to die to keep the other alive so the job could be finished, it could have been either of them, not necessarily cas.

this of course spawns a bit of emotional angst, with dean being hit pretty hard by cas’s death. there’s a hint that his reaction is more emotion extreme than say, bobby or jo’s death, but still a bit less than if sam had died - and also notably takes it harder than sam. this sets up the fact that cas is more than just a tag along to dean.

cas will be brought back about episode 4 (method irrelevant), and there’ll be an emotional reveal, but nothing too out of the ordinary. everyone’s just happy to see him alive again. there’ll be dialogue specific to dean and cas, of course, but just your generic “glad you’re back/what happened while i was away” catch up

episode 5 will have no destiel content, but there will be a minor male character who sort of flirts with dean. dean doesn’t reciprocate, and is flustered, but also doesn’t reject him (perhaps because he’s flustered), setting the stage for dean-is-not-straight-and-has-repressed-bi-feelings, but this is pretty minor and easily overlooked. sam witnesses this moment.

in episode 7, you’ll have a cas/dean centric ep, where they go off and investigate either by themselves or in a way that has sam occupied and away from them for a lot of the episode. they have a mini confrontation early/mid episode where dean says cas shouldn’t have sacrificed himself, that they could have found another way, that cas should have been the one to complete the mission and dean to die.

cas’s response here will hint at his thoughts in 15x18 regarding what dean’s done for him, but much briefer. he implies that he’d rather dean had lived; dean is a good man, and cas sort of “owes” him this because dean has helped him find his humanity. he doesn’t confess his love or anything, but the implication that cas feels love (of some sort) because of knowing dean is definitely there.

dean should be a little uncomfortable at the raw emotions of this scene, and pulls back, though castiel will remain earnest and completely unbothered by dean’s difficulty dealing with what he’s saying

the episode continues, and the hunt goes as normal, but towards the end, dean gets injured (head or face wound). cas heals him easily, but there is a moment that lingers a little too long, with cas’s hand on dean’s face. dean is a part of it - he feels it too - but it freaks him out and he ends the moment, pretending it didn’t happen. they carry on packing up/continuing the hunt/whatever they were doing before, but the final shot of the scene is dean looking at cas and wondering - what the hell was that?

this is going to be played out pretty slow over the series, so in between the core relationship developing episodes there’ll be normal monster of the week episodes with just your normal amount of destiel subtext. the episode following cas and dean’s moment, for example, (episode 8 and 9) will be your average sam/dean/cas hunt with nothing more than a couple of small moments between cas and dean where cas is perhaps a little too intense and dean pulls away, or there’s an awkwardness between them, especially from dean’s side. episode 10 doesn’t have cas in it at all, because dean has made an excuse to separate himself from cas - i.e. dean jumps at the opportunity to give cas a task that means he’ll be hunting separately to him and sam

episode 11 will be a sam/dean hunt, but in the middle of the episode they find a clue/information that they need cas’s help trying to decode. sam suggests praying for cas to show up, and dean says well go ahead then. sam doesn’t make a fuss about dean not doing it himself (though he may be a bit surprised) and he prays to cas - but nothing happens. dean sighs and rolls his eyes, and says “cas, you there? we need some help” and cas appears.

sam is (sort of) mock offended that cas comes when dean calls and not him, and cas says that he was busy and would have heard sam eventually if he’d tried praying again later, but dean has an easier time breaking through via prayer than sam (ala the “dean and i share a more profound bond” moment in season 5(?i think). like then, sam is mock offended, but isn’t really surprised. dean is keen to move the conversation past this and get cas’s help with the hunt, which cas provides, and cas decides to stick around to help fight the episode’s monster.

the episode facilitates a scene where cas and sam are left alone on the hunt with some downtime to talk (perhaps because dean is avoiding cas) and sam brings it up, a bit curious - does cas hear dean better because cas pulled him from hell? cas admits he isn’t sure exactly what the reason is - perhaps it also has something to do with the way dean has affected him as a person. he finds that despite himself, he cares for dean more deeply than anyone else - and his feelings remain unchanged by the fact that dean seems to be avoiding him right now. but he finishes by saying he can’t help that his thoughts are more attuned to dean at all times, and that he finds himself thinking of him far too often, which probably leads to dean’s prayers finding him easier than other people’s.

sam is pretty shocked/surprised at this - it sounds like cas is saying he’s in love with his brother. cas doesn’t confirm this explicitly, but sort of agrees, saying something along the lines of “that is a possibility”, as though he’s not quite sure.

sam’s still processing this - can angels even fall in love? cas assures him that they can (maybe gives an example of another angel this has happened to) though it doesn’t happen often and has never really ended well.

the scene ends either a bit awkwardly, with sam still being “oh my god what is going on” and castiel being earnest and sort of oblivious to sam’s shock, or with an attempt at lightheartedness from sam. the episode continues as normal, though sam now gets to hunt with dean and castiel with the new secret knowledge that one of them is in love with the other one and the other one probably doesn’t know. but he doesn’t really know what to do with that information, so he does nothing, just observes.

episode 13 has no cas in it again, and it’s a sam/dean hunt. but here’s where it gets interesting - the monster is preying on men at a gay bar.

the hunt they’re on has people going missing who have recently frequented the bar. one of the bartenders there is obviously gay, and flirts with dean a little bit during their initial questioning, even giving him his number at the end, which throws dean. sam sees the end of this interaction and notes it with amusement.

they continue investigating - clues (or another disappearance) lead back to the gay bar, so they decide they have to check it out again. when there, they spot the same bar-tender again, and sam makes a joking comment that dean will probably get more out of him than sam will, so dean better go talk to him. dean does, and manages to be a bit more casual now he’s not as taken off-guard. dean gets the information out of him that he needs, but the conversation also hits more casual/personal territory - come comments are about what it’s like doing the job dean does, etc. dean might make a cryptic comment that hints about the supernatural nature of their work, not that the bartender would pick up on it, and answers in a way that’s both true to dean’s actual life but could be mistaken as being a thing an fbi agent would say. the bartender is less flirty during this conversation, but when he does make flirty comments, dean takes it much better and continues the conversation easily, and despite himself dean finds himself warming up to this guy.

the hunt continues. in the early scenes, when sam and dean roll into town, dean will see two guys heavily making out outside the club, and looks away (in a prudish/not wanting to watch someone’s PDA sort of way). later in the episode, either right before the climax or right after, there will be a moment where dean sees another moment of PDA between two guys (possibly more of a sweeter scene, like holding hands, or canoodling), and dean watches for a moment, somewhat longingly. the episode won’t address it, but this is his moment where internally he starts wondering if maybe he wants that.

the episode heads towards the conclusion when the monster takes another victim - and lo and behold, it’s our bartender. but dean and sam are getting close to finding it, and they hunt it to it’s lair. sam deals with the monster while dean rescues the bartender. it’s a generic rescue scene, and dean is very compassionate and reassuring, and the bartender is quite freaked out, as to be expected. the wrap up scene, where they take him home/back to his car/wherever, has him asking dean about what else is out there, and dean is honest - there are lots of creatures that lurk in the dark. but hopefully the bartender won’t see any more of them. if he does, here’s dean’s card - call him and dean will come. the bartender makes a joke about using it for a booty-call/to get a date with dean, and dean jokes back in a way that rebuffs that, but in a light and friendly manner.

the series continues. there is one more dean/sam hunt and then a dean/sam/cas hunt. dean seems a little but more at ease with cas during this.

in episode 16, dean gets a call from the bartender. he picks up the phone and makes a joke about how this wasn’t supposed to be used for booty calls - before turning serious at the bartender’s answer. something is going down in that town again, and he wants dean to come check it out. dean promises he’s on his way and hangs up.

sam is ready to go with dean, but dean tells him he’s going to go on his own. sam is surprised, but lets him.

dean goes to the bartender’s town and investigates. something is going down, and this time the bar tender helps him along the way. there is an easy chemistry between the two of them, the sort of familiarity characters have when meeting dean and sam for the second or third time rather than the first. the bartender assists in the investigation, so is around dean a lot, and flirts with him on occasion. in contrast the previous episode, dean is much more at ease with it, he even flirts back a little at one point. but it could still all be in good fun - it doesn’t have to imply anything.

3/4 of the way through the episode, before they go after and kill the monster, there is a slow/waiting/resting scene where dean and the bartender have the opportunity to just chat. they talk about the monster/hunting/the lifestyle a wee bit - and dean shows him something about the monster on the laptop, or in a book, or gives him a weapon and shows him how to use it - whatever it is, they get physically close for some reason. the bartender makes another flirtatious comment, and dean isn’t too sure how to respond this time. the bartender shrugs it off - it’s just some fun, he knows dean’s straight, it’s fine.

dean’s mind is racing a hundred miles a minute, and he’s feeling an absolute cascade of emotions. maybe, he croaks out, maybe he isn’t as straight as you might think.

it’s pretty clear where this is going lol. they have a moment, they kiss, idk maybe they have sex, maybe it’s implied or left ambiguous. camera cuts away.

when we come back to them, the plot has accelerated and it’s time to go after the monster (immediately, right now, before anyone can talk about what just happened). they hunt the monster, dean does the bulk of the work but there’s a crucial moment where bartender saves dean, mirroring the way dean saved him in his first appearance and allowing dean to finish the monster off.

the wrap up/goodbye scene is a bit awkward, both not too sure where they stand, but there is a moment where dean admits that he liked what happened between them. but it’s pretty obvious it can’t continue - dean has to keep hunting, and the bartender is not here for that life - he likes all his limbs attached. they keep the door open though about seeing each other in future - maybe a comment about where dean’s based, and the bartender says he’s heading through that way in a month or so, maybe he can pop in and say hi, and dean agrees.

dean goes back to the bunker, reconnects with sam who’s wrapped up his b-plot. dean is deliberately vague about the case details, and sam gets the feeling something’s off. then dean gets a call, and he takes it - but he’s squirrelly about it.

sam’s suspicious and is worried something is really wrong. he follows dean and listens to his call - he hears dean say “hey [bartender]”, and the conversation that follows, which basically boils down to - the bartender is actually going to be in dean’s area next week instead, it turns out, maybe they could catch up, and dean says sure, but his brother is around, and dean hasn’t exactly told him about what happened or come out to him, so they have to be a bit on the downlow. he doesn’t want to seem sleazy, but maybe they could get a hotel room? cut to sam, looking pretty surprised lmao and sort of creeping away quietly, feeling bad for eavesdropping on such a personal conversation and now processing the fact that his brother is (he thinks) gay.

ep 17 is a week later and dean and sam are called to a case miles away - right when the bartender is supposed to visit. dean takes a private call where he regretfully tells the bartender he’s not going to be around - they won’t be able to catch up this time. this secretive behaviour reminds sam (and the audience) of dean’s secret.

sam sort of spends the whole episode waiting for dean to come out to him, which doesn’t happen because this is still really new to dean and he’s not sure he’s ready for it. it’d be kinda fun/funny if they were fucking around with some sort of truth goddess or something, but regardless there’ll be opportunities for sam to poke dean about general things he might not be saying. sam also drops a couple of massive hints that he thinks gay people are awesome which dean obliviously ignores (or maybe starts cluing into towards the end of the episode).

but by the time they’ve defeated whatever it is they’re hunting, dean still hasn’t said anything about being gay so while they’re in the impala diving home, sam’s like “you know, if you were gay, i’d be okay with it” and dean’s like “yeah i’m not gay” and sams like “I heard you on the phone with bartender, sounded pretty gay” and dean’s like “okay yeah we banged. but i’m not gay, i’m bi” and sams like “woah. and you never said anything?” and dean talks about how it’s sort of been coming on for a while now but he’s been trying to ignore it because he didn’t think he was that person, or maybe how there was something with a guy a long time ago but he repressed it, etc etc. and sams like “well that’s cool and you’re still my big brother, i still love you, that’s never going to change” yada yada and there’s an awesome emotional scene and they drive off into the sunset.

BUT we still have the cas/dean plotline to wrap up in the last few episodes. sam know knows cas loves dean and dean’s bi but doesn’t know if dean loves cas and also doesn’t want to say anything in case he shouldn’t. but also wonders whether he should because it seems like dean might have feelings for cas, so as we head towards the final episodes sam keeps trying to push cas and dean into situations alone together but it’s not working very well, although they’re obviously really fucking close and sam can see just how much dean loves cas and cas loves dean but neither of them can actually see it, and eventually (like, one episode from the finale) cas says something implying quite obviously that he has feelings for dean and then leaves and dean’s totally oblivious and sam is practically banging his head against a brick wall out of frustration and just caves and is like “you know cas is in love with you, right?” and deans like “no” and sam is like “well he is. he told me” and dean’s like “whaaaaat”

but there’s no time for dean to like, talk to cas about this, only a small amount of time where he processes his feelings for him (maybe like one scene together a but a third character is there the whole time, so dean can think about what sam told him, but can’t say anything to cas) and then the finale is really kicking off, and they’re fighting whatever the big bad is, and again there’s comes this point where someone has to sacrifice themselves and this time dean’s like “no cas i told you earlier, i don’t want you sacrificing yourself, this time it’s my turn” and cas is says “no let me, i want to do this” and dean’s like “yeah but i don’t want you to because i love you” and does the thing that should kill him

except at the last minute something else happens which stops that (sam like kills the big bad by taking it by surprise or something) and so dean doesn’t die (maybe he’s a bit injured though and cas has to heal him) and cas goes to him and there’s a very emotional scene where they elaborate on the love confession and kiss each other and sam’s like “i can’t believe a month ago i thought these men were straight”.

and because this is supernatural something immediately goes wrong and by killing this big bad they’ve actually triggered the rising of the next big bad so there’s your plot for the next season you’re welcome, but hey now they’re gay together you’re welcome SPN writers please pay me to reboot your series in the way dean deserved.

#supernatural #destiel #cw supernatural #fanfiction

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