#and for better and for worse sam and dean are just john winchester put through a flour sifter

[vivitalks]

i'm thinking john winchester thoughts tonight is it obvious

[lunajay33]

Mothers Daughter🕊️

Summary: Being the youngest of the winchesters had its ups and downs, but being the only girl made you miss out on a female figure, so the only thing you can do is ask the men around you about your mother

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lil sister, Sam Winchester x lil sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

You never got to meet you mother she died 6 months after you were born, well when you and Sam were born, he was older than you by 5 minutes and still treated you like his little sister but you couldn’t ask for 2 better bigger brothers, they were always there for you and made sure you were okay

Being the youngest and only girl in the family it got hard sometimes, when you were little it wasn’t as big of a deal, John treated you like his little girl and loved you dearly always reminding you that you looked like Mary, your brothers treating you like a princess and let you play with dolls, but as you got older and you got more woman problems it was hard to handle since there was no motherly figure to turn too

You woke up in the motel you were currently staying at with John, Sam and Dean, late at night you got up feeling groggy and your stomach aching so bad, nothing like you’ve ever felt before, you got to the bathroom looking in the mirror seeing how pale you had gotten, thinking maybe it was just something you ate you went to use the washroom but when you pulled down your pants all you see is blood and you panic

You pull your pants back up dropping to the ground when another wave of pain hits your lower stomach

“DADDY!” You scream out scared you might be serious sick

He runs in frantic looking around for danger, probably thinking something supernatural was out to get you, he kneeled infront of you brushing your hair back

“Baby what’s wrong?”

“Somethings wrong, I’m bleeding a lot and….and it hurts so bad” you say breathing heavy just wishing for him to take you pain away

“Oh princess, it’s your period every woman goes through it, I’ll run out and get you some pads and pain killers, drink some water I’ll be right back”

When he left Sam and Dean came and sat with you on the bathroom floor, doing everything they could to comfort you, but you were still confused on what was happening

That happened when you were 14 and after John explained to you what a period was you felt so different from your brothers, every month you had to go through pain while they carried on with hunting, having to go through bouts of random emotions was irritating but what was worse was having your body change and not knowing what to do

“Damn sis your legs are just about as hairy as mine” Dean laughed as we were all sat around in another motel, you felt so embarrassed covering your legs under the blankets

“Dean enough” John said as he saw your bottom lip tremble

“Daddy I don’t understand why do I have to change like this my legs are hairy and my boobs are getting bigger and I don’t feel comfortable”

“Come on princess I’ll take you shopping”

He took you to a drug store find a training bra that fit comfortably and some razors, the drive home was a little quiet

“I’m sorry daddy, I don’t mean to inconvenience you I know you have a lot on your plate right now with this werewolf case”

“It’s not your fault, and you’re not an inconvenience, just wish your mother was here to help guide you on this”

Your mother was a sore topic for the family which is all the more reason you wish you knew her, they barely talk about her

You got back to the motel room and Sam was already asleep but Dean was up watching tv still, John got ready for bed while you sat at the little table working on some homework Dean coming to sit with you, he was 19 so he didn’t have to do any schooling anymore

“Dean can I ask you something?” You sighed putting your pencil down

“Sure kid, what’s got your little head worrying?”

“Do you….i mean I never knew her but…..do you like mom would have liked me?”

He looked surprised not expecting that question, you saw John come out of the washroom seeing Dean expression and your nervous state

“What’s going on?”

“She…..she asked if mom would have liked her”

You were scared that he was going to yell at you, but you were just so desperate to have a mom or even a older strong woman figure to look up to

“Daddy I’m sorry I just…..I feel so different and you always say I remind you of mom, I just miss someone I never knew and it hurts”

“I’m not made princess, I’m sorry you and the boys don’t have your mother but I’m trying my best, and your mother would have loved you, I remember when she found out she was having twins she was so excited and when you were born and we saw you were a little girl she always said she felt this connection with you, how she’d cradle you and you’d immediately relax against her, she had so much planned for you Angel, she told me to wait till your 16th birthday to give you this but it’s close enough” he got up rummaging through his bag pulling out a little box

You opened it to see a silver necklace with a protection charm, just like the one John had tattooed

“I love it, thank you, I hope where ever she is she’s proud of me”

“Hey kid, we’re all proud of you” Dean smiled helping you put the necklace on

“She couldn’t have left me with better protectors, I love all three of you”

“Love you too princess, forever”

You were 22 now and on a run with all three Winchester boys, you had just finished getting the colt back from some vampires and trying to make a game plan so that John would accept you help, Sammy was driving and you and Dean were in the back

“Daddy please just take a break for a second, let us help I…….i miss you” bright lights burned you eyes before everything crashed and everything went black

You opened your eyes to see you were in a field full of flowers, not a worry in the world just the calming feeling of wind in your hair, bees buzzing by, no vampires or demons or anything just peace, then a woman in white appeared next to you

“You’re so beautiful” she smiled brushing your hair back

“Who are you?”

“I’m your mother dear, don’t tell me those boys haven’t showed you a picture of me” you shook your head but then you realized what she said, your mother was sitting next to you

“Mom…..it’s you!” You wrapped your arms around her feeling her warmth that you craved for

“But if it’s really you then…..am I dead?” You asked scared

“You got in a crash, the boys are waiting for you back there but if you want you can stay with me, we can be happy just mother and daughter, you can stay with me”

“But I haven’t lived yet, I don’t wanna leave Sammy or Dean and I can’t leave dad like that, I just got him back”

“It’s your choice baby, but either way I’m always with you” she said pointing at my necklace

A bright light above stung your eyes slowly coming into focus, seeing everyone surrounding you bed

“There she is, god sis you terrified us” Sam said wrapping his arms around you

“Princess why are you crying?” John asked worried your in pain

“I saw her” you whispered still in shock

“I think she still got drugs in her system” Dean laughed

“No I saw her, it was mom” everyone went still

“She said I could stay with her, wherever I was it was peaceful and free of evil but….i had to come back I just got you back dad and I can’t just leave my brothers you’ll tear eachother apart without me here” you smile

“I ain’t leaving anytime soon baby girl”

You went to sit up but pain shot through your body

“Good driving Sam, how is it you all look like you got in a little bar fight and I’m the one in this hospital bed…….any serious damage?”

“Doc said you got a concussion, broken rib and some nasty cuts on your face”

“But I’ll be okay?”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, never again”

Requests are open for supernatural or the walking dead:)🩶

[redbird-tf]

Im not afraid of you now

Dean winchester x sister reader

Summary: After a failed hunt, a conflict between john and dean reveals y/ns repressed fear of dean and its strain on their bond.

(Summaries suck, i promise the stories better)

Note: inspired by and lyrics used from forward beckoned rebound

Word count: 920

Warnings: john being a bad parent,profanity, aggression, alcohol/drinking

“Fucking disaster” John grumbled stepping into the house followed by all 3 of his kids. It wasn’t often that there was a family hunt, but on the occasion that there was it meant something big was going down. They had tracked a demon through multiple big cities until they could catch up to it in Mississippi. The demon got away, thanks to various mistakes from all parties, though John would never admit to his faults. “Now we’ve got to wait for it to show its face god knows where and when!” John exclaimed throwing his duffle bag to the ground.

Sam clicked his tongue in disbelief before turning to his father. “You think this is all our fault don't you?” Sam furrowed his brows stepping up to John. “Guys, come on..” Dean groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. He was too tired to deal with another catfight. “You were the one who refused to tell us anything about this demon!” Sam yelled pointing his finger at John “i told you what i needed to!” John shouted shoving Sam back. “And you-“John had grabbed your arm as you tried walking past him. “I told you not to move until i called for you” John stated in a stern tone “but Sam needed-“You tried to explain, he didn't care, “i told you not to move!” He inched closer to your face. “Alright enough” Neither of you had seen Dean approaching until he was right in front of you. Dean gripped your upper arm, slightly gentler than John, and pushed you back a few feet behind him.

“I know we screwed up, but don't do this now.” Dean pleaded, he was too exhausted to fight but he wouldn't stand to see his younger siblings be attacked. “What are you doing Dean,” John asked cocking his head to the side “We can talk about this later” Dean explained with heavy eyes. “You trying to play daddy Dean?” He questioned dean. “No sir” he replied blankly “i leave you to take care and train them, not bring them back to me weaker!” John got closer and closer to him with every word. “I said enough!” Dean retaliated. Dean clenched his jaw, there was a moment of silence before John spoke up again “you think you can do it better, but shes just as afraid of you as she is of me” John muttered pointing behind Dean.

Dean turned his head to look at you. He watched your eyes dart from John to him, like a deer caught in headlights. You inhaled sharply, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the shame building inside of you. Dean lowered his head, bumping shoulders with John on his way out the door. You locked eyes with John before muttering out through gritted teeth “You're an asshole” you quickly turned your back making a beeline for your room. Sam tried to hold you, but you pulled away and he didn’t attempt to follow you.

————————————

Your back rested against the backboard of your bed, book in hand while you tried to distract yourself from the guilt pledging your mind, but it was no use. You couldn’t stop seeing the pure hurt on Dean's face. What John said was true, to an extent. You knew dean loved you, but you’ve never been able to cuddle up to him or talk to him like you could with Sam. Not to mention the whole macho man act he constantly put up, you had never thought about it until now. You hadn’t realized that it was all to keep you safe, so you could be emotional and make mistakes. The realization of your brother's sacrifice made you feel so much worse.

Your eyes shoot up to the door hearing it creek open. “Dad?” You called out. “No, just me,” Dean said walking into the room. You watched in silence as he sat at the edge of your bed. he eyed the sheets before his gaze met yours and he breathed out, his breath lined with the scent of whisky as it usually was at this hour. “I'm sorry i scared you earlier” he stated, you stayed silent “i don't ever mean to scare you” his tone was stern yet comforting. “I understand” you whispered so low you don't know if he heard, but he went on with his half-drunken apology “you know, i get it… when you were born, you were an infant, and innocent and i was already this villain and violent guy” he perused his lips together, too far into his mind. “Dean” you placed your hand over his clutched one “I'm not afraid of you now,not anymore” he gave you a small smile.

“May i?” He asked pulling back the sheets. you nodded watching him kick off his shoes and climb in next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as He secured the embrace by clasping his wrist with his other hand. Both arms cradled you now. “Dean…” you mumbled, and you felt his sleepy “mhm” vibrate his chest “thank you…for everything” you whispered as your thumb smoothed his forearm. “Always baby” he pressed his lips to your temple, drifting off while holding you tight.

[luna-nigthshade-wood]

What they don´t know, will hurt them

Summary: Dean Winchesters attempts suicide on a dirty motel bathtub, ending brain dead on a hospital. A trickster promises John and Sam that he will save him for “free”, as long as they both get through watching a series of Dean´s memories, good and bad. The twist is that they will feel everything Dean did at the time and they can stop it at any time, but then Dean will die. They both accept thinking it cant be that bad. Spoiler: it is worse.  

Interlude

-Faith healers, more like bunch of scammers, the whole lot of them! Next time I see one, I am going to give them their just desserts, see how they like it, those disgusting…- Gabriel´s rant could be heard all through Heaven, much to Dean´s amusement

-One wouldn’t believe he basically raise her, right?- Michael says with a small smile

-I am more surprised about the fact that she was able to heal that girl- Raphael exclaims perplexed

-What do you mean, Raphie?- Dean asks, smirking a little at the face the archangel pulls when he hears the nickname

-It should have been impossible- the archangel responds- That level of healing, it is something that I have only seen on the angels under my command. The fact that one of Gabriel´s is able to do something like that… it puzzles me.

-I don’t understand- Castiel says from where he is sitting next to Dean, holding his hand- I am not one of yours and had I desired I could have healed Layla and Dean, without breaking a sweat, while Faith was only able to treat the symptoms and correct some of the damage

-It is different in your case, little one- Michael claims

-Why?- Dean asks equally confused

-Because you, Castiel, as all the other angels, heal with your grace, which is something Faith has little to no access to, per the parameters of her “punishment”. The fact that she was able to perform something like that, without alerting all Heaven of her whereabouts is something short of a miracle-  Michael explains to them

-I am still confused, though- Dean comments- If Cas is able to heal with his grace, just like the rest of the angels, then why are Raph´s pupils different than the rest? Shouldn’t the healing be reserve to them?

-It goes down to the extent and nature of the injury. Let me explain- Raphael claims, interrupting Castiel before he can interject- While most human injuries are treatable by the grace of any angel with nothing more than touch, some injuries and diseases require more thought put into them, and that is where my fledglings come into action. That is without counting angels in the mix. Only those taught by me would be able to treat their injuries.

-And some healings still require some time and power to work- Michael adds- Because while it is true that you could have healed Layla, Castiel, you would have had to replenish your grace afterward and all the Host would have been alerted of it.

-That is because she is not using her grace to heal- Gabriel says, making everyone jump as they hadn’t notice he had stopped yelling- She couldn’t even if she wanted, her access to her grace, as Michael said, is blocked

-Then how is she doing it?- Raphael asks perplexed- I mean, I could have understood the first time she healed Dean, because his injuries didn’t require much power, but to be able to heal the damage of Dean´s heart and reducing Layla´s tumor would have required an excessive amount of power

-It is easy really, she is using, for lack of a better term, “faith magic”

-Wait, what?- Dean asks astounded- You are telling us that Faith is using faith?- he says sarcastically- Weren’t you all saying that faith healers didn’t exist?

-They don’t, but as the same time they do- Michael says, grimacing a little at his words

-What Michael is saying and failing to explain, is that faith healers do exist, but not in the way that people usually think about- Gabriel interjects

-I am confused as well- Castiel remarks- I thought they were all fraudulent people

-The ones that you are thinking are- Michael explains- But there are humans that are truly bless with the gift of healing.

-Yes, they are called doctors- Dean deadpans

-Well, yes, to a degree, doctors sometimes have a healing gift, but I was talking more like of normal people that can make others better mostly without recognition- Michael responds

-What Mike is once again not explaining, is that there are some people who acquired the gift of healing and you will never hear of them doing a spectacle of things, like the reverend that supposedly heal you, they don’t need any of that, nor do they need a monetary offer- Gabriel scowls- And they don’t discriminate or judge who they are healing

-I am sorry, but I am still failing to understand what does any of this has to do with faith- Dean replies

-Real faith healers acquire their gift because they are righteous people- Gabriel explains- People that spend their lives at the service of people, helping others not expecting anything in return, nor bozos that want a paycheck for what they are doing. Most real faith healers live their whole lives with no one knowing about their gift- Gabriel shrugs, before adding thoughtfully- Funny enough, you fit the bill perfectly for one, if only you would have a little more of faith.

-I am not a righteous man- Dean says quietly

-And yet, your actions tell a different story- Cas says, before giving Dean a chaste kiss on the lips.

They all stay quiet for a few minutes, before Gabriel breaks the silence once more

-Returning to Faith, she uses a little bit of mix of everything she has ever learned to be able to help, faith magic included. Heck, if she was human, she would have probably fill the bill as well.

-Some of the things she does are angelic in nature, but some others require spells and light witchcraft- Raphael remarks

-She did have a lot of time to learn and she has met a lot of people she has learned from- Gabriel responds- She also learned a lot of first aid in the Fight, I know at least of 18 angels that lived because she was able to help before your brethren arrived

-Learning things like this make me feel ashamed of my own actions- Michael confesses- She was one of the only ones that truly learned what Father was trying to teach us, isn’t it? And I punished her for that.

-You did what you thought was right at the moment, brother- Castiel utters, hesitating, before powering through and continuing- And perhaps it wasn’t the best choice or the fairest, but it is thanks to that decision that we are all here now. We, or at least I, have to believe that things happen for a reason or Father wouldn’t have let it happen

-You are wise beyond your years, little one- Michael tells him with a soft smile

-After all this time, you still believe that Father has a plan for us?- Raphael asks -Of course, I have a little something call faith- Castiel responds, and they all stay in a comfortable silence waiting for the next memory to start.

AO3

Masterlist

[hahahahahangst]

Peach Scone (Be The Young 23)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, SELF H*RM, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: As I said last time, I’m sorry... This- this is just sad tbh

MASTERLIST

Peach Scone

Or maybe it’s the thought of not being so alone.

Emily and Dean's last fight seemed to have finally turned their relationship around: she even managed to get some comfort out of him while they were burning Sam's body. It seemed like all the people Emily loved were taken away by fire. Each and everyone of them, she had to watch them slowly being consumed by flames. When the fire extinguished itself, it was almost midnight and around them was pitch black. However, they didn’t move for a while. They stayed in complete darkness. “Dean, I want to quit.” She blurted out. She didn’t mean to say it. But it was true. Hunting had cost her close to everything. Dean was the only person she had left. “If you die as well I won’t survive it.” “We should have brought him back.” Dean’s voice pierced the dark as if it was lightning. Emily dug her nails in his shoulder, where she was resting her left hand. Those weren’t things they would ever admit face to face. They were saying it exclusively because it was dark. And it’s easier to say terrible things when it’s dark. It’s as if they are less loud. Emily would never admit it, but she was regretting giving up on Sam as well. She knew that what she had with him, she could never have with Dean. They would never share the dorkiness, they would never be able to share random glimpses of their rawest emotions through telepathy. However, she also knew that moving on was the only healthy solution. The one that would have caused less damages. Or at least that’s what she thought. And so the weeks passed. Slowly, but regularly. Dean was drunk most of the time. Emily had to take the bottle away from him several times each day and she did not like how angry he progressively became every time she did. The idilliac state they lived in for a few days was about to run out. The bubble was about to burst. Their fights were going to be back. Worse than before.

“Dean.” She warned as he punched the table when Emily took away the bottle from her. “Watch it.” Since they had burned Sam’s body, she had to transform into a weird, unhealthy version of a mother. She could not afford to be the little sister anymore. Someone had to be the adult and Dean was out of himself. She put the bottle away and stepped behind Dean, putting her hands on his shoulders. His body tensed for a second before starting to slowly relax as Emily started massaging his shoulders. “You know I can’t let you drink that much.” “I know. Sorry.” “You always say that.” She made sure to be out of Dean’s line of sight as her eyes were filled with tears. Emily wanted things to be way better than they were. She had a glimpse of Dean as a big brother but it was all soon gone when he started realizing Sam was dead. For good. That they weren’t bringing him back. “‘Right.” She said, letting him go and clearing her throat. “Any requests for dinner?” Emily took the glass away from the table as well and quickly rinsed it in the sink. She stood over it, trying her best not to cry. “I’m not too hungry.” He sighed, staring in front of him with hard eyes. Emily started to wonder if she didn’t get there too late. If she didn’t stop him in time. “Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, trying her best to not let any worry seep through her words, but only a fake firmness. Dean didn’t answer. Not that Emily needed any answers: the answer was obviously “no”. Sam was the only one who knew how to take on Dean to make him talk. Emily filled the glass she had just rinsed with water and placed it in front of Dean. When she sat in front of him, Dean gave her an enraged glare. She was definitely too late. “Dean, please.” She tried to touch his shoulder but he moved away while also shoving her arm in the opposite direction. She stood back up and took a deep, long sigh. Don’t freak out. She repeated to herself. Don’t play his game. “Maybe it’s better if I leave you alone for a while.” “No, stay.” “Dean, we both know how this ends.” “I SAID STAY!” He yelled.

Emily shut her eyes both to the sound of her brother screaming, once more angry at her for the sole guilt of existing. The door slammed shut, her powers once again going out of control. She dangled her head for a second, trying to gather all the patience and calm she had. She had seen it again and again. She knew how it was going to go. She arrived too late. Dean was too drunk. He could not control himself anymore. His thoughts were not lucid and she could see it from how he looked at her. “Why did you stop me from bringing him back?” He said, on the verge of crying. “Because I care about you, that’s why.” Emily tried to be as straight forwards as possible, yet to not give him the impression she was trying to fight. “I am not doing this with you again.” She tried to walk out the door. “You made me burn his body!” Dean stood and dragged her away from the door and pushed her to the wall. “We agreed on it!” She said, staring at him. He did not give any signs of setting her free. “Dean.” She warned again. “Let me go.” Her tone was calm, but inside, she was already anticipating what was about to happen. She had gone down that road at least twice a week for more than a month. It had always gone the same way. “Dean. I am not warning you a fourth time. Let - go - of - me.” The more she talked, the more he seemed upset. By the end of the sentence, he already had his hand raised. Emily could have used her powers to set herself free, but it always made him angrier. Emily welcomed the back of Dean’s hand collapsing violently with her face for the third time that week and didn’t even flinch. “Feel better now?” Dean let go of her as if she was made of fire, his glare turning into regret. “Can I go or…?” “I’m sorry. Please- Please stay.” He said, watching her go back to her routine tasks. Emily hid herself facing the sink once more, massaging her face. “I told you you were not going to feel better.” She said, going back to washing the dishes as nothing ever happened. She sighed, relieved, hearing the tone of the washing machine announcing it was over. She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. Bobby was staring at her from the corner of the room, where he sat, reading a book. “He did it again, didn’t he?” Emily nodded as she slid on the floor, holding her head into her hands. “Is he getting any better?” She shook her head. His bad days were becoming more and more numerous to the expense of the good days. She tried her best not to cry so as to not attract Dean’s attention. Bobby helped her stand back up and hugged her. She immediately started sobbing. He shushed her. “It’s going to be alright. Don’t worry, darling.” They moved away from the door and towards the stairs. “I'll take care of the dinner tonight, okay? You go upstairs and rest a bit.” She nodded on the man’s shirt and started climbing up the stairs. When she reached the laundry room, she released all her sobbing. She started crying, in physical and psychological pain. She placed her hands on the washing machine and cried loud enough to not hear the two men arguing downstairs. It took her a handful of minutes before she was able to recollect herself and actually do the task she was supposed to do. She took the washed clothes out of the machine and put them in a basket which she then carried downstairs, making sure to walk fast enough so that nobody would notice she was still crying. “I thought I said get some rest,“ commented Bobby as she passed through the main room. “It will get stinky if I don't do it now.” She said, going out the door and around the house, where she had hung some lines to dry her clothes on. While she was out there, Bobby approached her. He was heading out with Rufus to help him out for a hunt. “Will you be okay?” He asked, concerned. “Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Yeah, about that…“ “What?” She side eyed him, suspicious. “I called Ellen, she agreed on letting you stay with her for a while.” “Why?” She scoffed. “You know why.” Emily stopped tending at the laundry and drew a deep breath. “Bobby, he needs someone to be around.” “Well, that someone doesn’t have to be you.” “But what if-” “Emily, he’s an adult. And you are not supposed to be his mother! This isn’t up for debate, you are leaving as soon as I am back from this job.” “But-” “I would start packing if I were you.”

Later that night she was in her room, reluctantly packing, when her attention was raised by the sound of glass breaking. “Dean!” She yelled, warningly. A mother. She sounded exactly like a mother. Something else broke. What would her mother have done if she started breaking stuff? She ran down the stairs. “What the hell are you doing?!” She said, entering the kitchen, worried. There stood Dean, a beer bottle in his hand and several broken glass shards lying on the floor in front of him. “Give me that.” She said, extending her hand towards the bottle he was holding. Dean didn’t move. “I said-” she took a step and forced the bottle out of his hands. He gave up way too easily. “Dean!” She snapped her fingers in front of him. “What is going on?!” What was the point in asking? She knew exactly what was going on. She felt that exact sensation for years. Emily knew how difficult it was to snap out of that. All you can think is how much you hate your life and how much you want to change things, but you are stuck. Stuck somewhere you can't get out of. Just like someone who is permanently trapped in a box, Dean stared in front of him with the emptiest gaze Emily had ever seen on him. All she wanted was for him to show some signs of life. It was only when she put both her hands on his face, so fast it was almost a slap, and made him turn towards her that he finally looked at her, almost as if he just noticed her presence. His eyes were filled with tears. “Wait, are you-” she let go of him as if he was made of fire. It was the first time Emily saw Dean crying after Sam had died. An alarm set off in her that something was very, very wrong. Dean rolled his eyes and turned the other way, putting his hands on the border of the sink, his head danling in between. “Dean, what’s going on?” She heard him sniff as an answer. She put a hand on his shoulder and made him turn her way. She stared at his deep green eyes, so filled with sadness and yet so empty of any life. It physically hurt to see him like that, she would rather see him angry and on the verge of punching her. Anything but like that. “Come here.” She said, pulling him towards her. He strongly smelled of beer, even more than usual, and she had to go to the tip of her toes in order to properly hug him, but she made sure he rested his head on her shoulder. He broke down crying as soon as she wrapped him with her arms. Dean Winchester wasn't a sobber, but Emily felt his body wince several times. Suddenly, it felt like she was holding a porcelain doll. Like he was going to break if she wasn’t too careful. Or maybe like if he was already broken. “It’s alright,“ she whispered, caressing the back of his neck. ”...do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t really answer with words, but it seemed to Emily that he winced a little harder. “Ok.” She concluded, holding him close. She let him cry on her shoulder. She couldn't help but wonder where all that sadness was coming from. Was it another nightmare? Was it about her moving away? Or was it something entirely different? After a while, when Emily felt Dean's heart go back to a normal rate, she unwrapped her arms from around him. She cupped his face, just like her mother would always do to her when she cried, and dried his face with her thumbs. “What about some coffee, uh? Dry up your head a little?” She smiled. He nodded. Dean sat down at the table and Emily filled the coffee maker with water. With a familiar beep she had heard several times everyday since they landed at Bobby’s, it started heating itself up. The coffee scent was spreading in the kitchen. “First things first,“ she said, opening the cabinet. ”...water.” She filled two glasses with water and placed one in front of Dean while keeping one for herself. He didn't seem to pay too much attention to the gesture, still wrapped in whatever he was overthinking about. “Dean!” She called. “Drink the water.” He automatically grabbed the glass and started drinking. “Did you have any dinner?” “Yes- I- uh… No I have not.” He finally admitted. Two seconds later, the sound of a pan hitting metal echoed in the room. “Come on, Emily, you don't have to do this…“ “Oh, sure, I'll just let you starve!” She said, sarcastic, moving a couple of blood jars to finally reveal the peanut butter she had bought weeks before. She sniffed it. Good enough. Then, it was time to find the jam, which luckily resided in the fridge, and the bread. She lit the fire under the pan and started toasting the bread. She poured coffee into a cup and handed it to Dean. “I told you, it's not-” “Oh come on,“ she said, moving his cup closer to his mouth. “You've been the big brother all your life. Let me be the older one for a second, okay?” He looked at her for a second before taking a sip of the coffee. She smiled and went back to her bread. Soon, it was nice and toasted and Dean had a peanut butter and jelly toast in front of him. “Do you want me to take crusts away or…“ She joked, sitting down next to him while unwrapping a snack bar, she sat on the table. Dean looked at the food but hesitated to eat it. “Eat, you'll feel better. Come on.” She pushed the plate a little closer to him. He suddenly stood up. “Okay, no- no. This is not working.” “Come on, Dean, it's just food!” “I'm supposed to be the one that takes care of you, not the other way around.” Emily stood up as well. “So, I can't help you?” “It's just-” He sighed. “Looking out for Sam has always been my job. And I failed. Now I am supposed to look out for you, but-” “It's not your job anymore, Dean. I'm just trying to make sure you are okay. Mentally and physically. Now…“ She moved the plate even closer to him. “Eat your toast.” She said, nervous. He finally sat back down. “Dean, really. Let me take care of you, okay? Just for a minute?” Her voice immediately became softer as she sat back down. Dean looked at the toast, unsure. He took a small bite, then raised his eyebrows and finished the whole thing. She waited for him to finish the toast completely, then she took the plate away and placed it in the sink. She stood in between the sink and Dean. She knew that answering her next question would have been easier if he didn't see her. “Did you already speak with Bobby about…?” Emily played with an overhang on her index finger. Dean didn't answer. “Should I take it as a yes?” He sighed. “I did.” “And?” “I don’t know what to tell you, just go if you want to get rid of me that badly.” “Getting rid of-” “Yeah, you think I don’t see it? You can’t wait to leave.” “Dean, that’s not true!” “Right.” He said, sarcastic. “Right? I literally just cooked you your first meal in what, two days? What is the next thing you say going to be, that I don’t care about you?” “That’s exactly my next point, yes.” “Are you serious?” She scoffed. “Never been more serious.” “So you really think that I don’t give a shit?” She pushed herself away from the sink. “That’s right.” He answered, suddenly calm. “And what makes you think that?” “You wouldn’t leave if you actually cared.” “Dean-” she stuttered, getting more and more nervous. “I am not deciding to leave. I am being forced by Bobby because you keep acting like a fucking asshole.” They stayed in complete silence. Dean never got back at her and Emily eventually leaned against the sink again. “Dean?” She called a while later. “Uh?” “Are you going to start hunting again?” “Maybe.” To that answer, Emily couldn't help but shiver. “Ok.” “See? If you cared, you would have fought me on this.” He turned around to look at her. “Do you want me to fight you on that?” The clock ticked, nobody moved for a while. Nobody spoke. A dog barked not too far away. “Yeah.” Emily pushed herself away from the sink once more, putting down the coffee mug. She sat in front of Dean. “Why on earth would you go back?” She asked. “It’s the family business. People are dying because we are not out there.” “Yeah, but what about you?! What about us? I mean, hunting has taken away everything from us. It took your mother, my mother, Sam, dad, Alex- Dean, it took everything away from us.” “That’s exactly why I do that: so that no other families are ruined.” “Yes but Dean, what about you?” “What about it?” “When are you going to decide it’s your turn to be happy or - god forbids - my turn as well?” “So what, now I make you unhappy?” “Dean, don’t you see it? We are siblings! I cannot be happy if you are… like this.” She gestured at him. “When I got here one year ago, you had to wash me like a toddler. I thought I was going to die or that I would never go that low ever again. And look at me. I am still here, still crying at night, still hurting myself in any possible way and you throw beer bottles, you refuse to eat and we punch each other and-” She sniffed. “This is not you, and I know losing Sam hurts like hell, shit- I’m trying to be the older sibling here, okay? I am trying, but you-” Her body winced, unable to control a sob. Her thoughts were starting to not make sense anymore and out of her mouth only came half sentences. She put both hands on the table. “Dean, if you die I’ll probably follow right after.” She managed to say. “Nobody said anything about you hunting with me.” He said, confused. “I know.” Dean took a second to realize the implications of what she had just said and his gaze turned harder. “I won’t die.” “Yeah, right, I knew at least two other hunters who said the exact same thing and guess what, we had to burn both their bodies.” “Stop talking about Sam and dad!” “Why?! Not talking about them is not gonna bring them back!” “Emily!” “What?!” She walked on the other side of the table to face Dean. “Emily what? You want to punch me? Cool. Give Bobby more reasons to make me leave.” She pushed him. She swore to herself she was never going to start a fight again, but he looked so empty, so lifeless, the only thing left of the Dean she knew was his ability to make her angry with three words. “It comes down to a decision, Dean: you either choose to save what’s left of your own family, or you save someone else’s family.” She stared Dean down. “I didn’t ask for your opinion about this.” He pushed her back. “Right. And I didn’t ask about your opinion on me moving out.” “I should have guessed you would have jumped at the first real chance of getting rid of me.” “You know what?” She took a step back. “Why do I keep trying with you? You don't care about being siblings, you just want to fight. You are so frustrated you have to turn on those who are trying to help you, damn it. Just go pay a hooker or jerk off some teenagers, but don’t- don’t bring me into your alpha male shit ever again!” “I am not-” “SHUT UP!” She purposefully made a window explode to her left. “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I am busting my ass out to keep you fucking alive, and you have the nerve to tell I don’t care? I AM DONE! YOU WANT ME TO NOT CARE SO BAD? WELL, ENJOY!”

Emily spent the night going back with her memories to all the times Dean and her had fought. She still remembered their very first argument. She had just started hunting and she rolled her ankle tripping on something while running.

“All you have to do is watch where you are going! Is that so hard?!” “I was a little busy running from a fucking ghost!” “You should not have made the damn thing angry in the first place!”

Then, there was the time she tried to suggest she could go hunting by herself. That she didn’t need anybody’s help.

“So you think you're that good?” Said Dean, putting his beer down on the table. “Damn right I am!” She answered, cocky. John looked at them from the corner of the room. “Okay, prove it.” Dean walked in front of Emily, taking off his jacket. “Try to punch me.” “Dean.” Warned John. “Go easy on your sister.” “Don't worry dad, she'll be fine.”

Emily, arms still crossed, stared at her brother. He repeated: “Come on, tough guy, try to get me.” Ultimately, Emily took off her jacket as well and tried to strike Dean. He grabbed her arm mid air, shoved it down and forced her to turn back from him. In less than a second, she was pressed against the wall, her arms locked behind her. “I just killed you.” He said, letting go of her. She took the chance and without even turning, she elbowed him in the stomach: she did it hard enough so he would still feel it, but not enough so that he was actually hurt. In the split second of surprise, Emily quickly switched positions and soon, he was the one pressed against the wall, arms locked. “Dead.” She smiled. She was confident, but Dean was stronger. He set himself free way too easily for Emily's liking and he was about to find another way of fake-killing her, if it wasn't for John putting an end to that fight.

They also fought the night John had left. Emily was tired and needed to study in order to finish high school, so she suggested they take a break. A simple request like that became a fight that Emily was extremely glad John did never hear.

“Why don't we just take a week off? I imagine you are tired as well.” “Monsters don't take the week off, Emily.” Dean was patching himself up as they had just returned from a difficult shapeshifter hunt. He was nervous and on edge, Emily had just shot his copy without even checking if it was a copy or not. She said she had “an intuition”. “So you're telling me this hunt hasn't exhausted you as well?!” “It didn't.” “Oh, sorry, I forgot, your muscles don't need any rest.” She said, sarcastic. “They don't, because I have a purpose. That beats the need to rest and the desire to go to Disneyland.” “I never mentioned Disn- You know what?! One day this will be over and you will have nothing left.” “It will never be over.” “Right. Because no matter what you do, your mother won't be back. Mine either.”

That was the first time she saw Dean so angry at her she thought he might actually punch her.

At the time, they all looked like a big deal to Emily. If only she knew how much it would have escalated, she probably would have laughed it off. It all slowly went downwards from then. She thought about the first time Dean actually slapped her. She was screaming about how if she killed herself he would not care. She was still convinced of it. He never tried to prove her otherwise. Of course, there were the two days of peace that they had after Sam, but those only proved that if he wanted, he could be affectionate. Not that he cared about her. Then she thought about the first time Dean showed himself as sad, when she and Sam were infected. That was the moment she finally realized why he slapped her when she said she wanted to kill herself. All she wanted at that moment was for him to save himself. Then there was their final fight, which they only had because Bobby didn’t let them leave the room for hours. They didn't speak at each other for up to a whole hour, just staring in front of them. Then, one would say something and the fight would continue. “I am not your brother.” He had said. If it wasn't for that stupid deal she tried to make, she would have killed herself minutes after hearing that. That was probably the only time in her life when she really said what she was thinking to Dean. It also made her realize that while she was busy being hurt by Dean’s actions, he would get hurt by hers as well. For the first time she realized how she was not the only one trying her hardest. That was what finally made Emily snap out of her anger and what made her become the “mom.” version of herself. They deserved to have what they had been fighting for. They deserved each other. Even if it seemed to not have worked. Something she had not snapped out of was self harming. Without even thinking too much about it, her arms were already bleeding on the floor. What she craved about cutting herself was how good she had become at it. She knew just how much to cut so that she would fall into a blissful, peaceful state. She leaned against the door and on her lips appeared a hint of smiling. She loved that sensation way too much. She knew perfectly well that one day, she would go too far.

Bobby was back the following morning. Dean was still sleeping and she took advantage of that to just take her bag and leave. Although Bobby sent her towards the Roadhouse, she took it upon herself to never even go in the right direction. She drove twenty minutes outside of Sioux Falls and entered a motel. “I can’t go to the Roadhouse. I’ll figure it out.” Was her last text to Bobby before she fell asleep, still clothed, on her bed.

[wishbonedean]

I also have very strong, rant-worthy feelings about Mary (largely for personal reasons, shesquite triggering for me) and how she did/didn't fit in. (Also been a while since I watched those seasons, so I'm fuzzy.) I *do* think Mary finally begins to come around towards the end of her (second) life and probably could have had a much better relationship with them had they had more time (but this is the sad boy show, so of course the second hope rises, it gets squashed, a la Cas/Miracle take one/etc).

But however much Mary's characterization upsets me, i think it's important to remember that we never got to see a Mary pre-John (and thus, pre-divine influence). A cupid told Sam and Dean that they initially "couldn't stand each other" until a cupid intervened since they had a destiny to birth Sam and Dean. Not to make this a crossover episode, but young Mary (and even the Mary in the Winchesters spin-off) give me Katniss vibes- she's not dumb, and she knew the risks of having a "normal" life. Even if she wanted it, would she have wanted children knowing she'd racked up a list of monsters that might come out of the woodwork to target them down the line? Dean is often paralleled with Mary, and he is *constantly* hesitating about whether or not having a family is possible even if he did attempt to leave the life - we can't forget Mary was also traumtically orphaned by supernatural violence and if she's constantly paralleled with Dean, she may have had similar hesitations, so why did she go through with having children, knowing that Azazel's 10-year warning wasn't up yet, at the very least, she knew he was coming for her (and more specifically, wasn't planning on killing/targeting her, so she knew he would be coming for something else). Idk, it makes me question whether Mary truly had the agency over her own will to even have children, or was it heaven's influence that pushed her towards that purpose? We won't ever have an answer bc we never saw Mary (in this universe) before she "fell in love" with John.

I like to consider her second coming an awakening of sorts - she wasn't supposed to be alive anymore and had served her purpose, so maybe whatever hold heaven had over her died when she burned on the ceiling. Both her and her sons had to deal with the fallout of her finding her own agency under the circumstances (bc they put a lot of expectation on her as well - which i think is fair even as an adult child to ask of a parent within reason, and childhood wounds are weird and full of magical thinking, i don't blame them for struggling to let go of the childlike ideals they may have held towards her). She clearly needed time, and she made some fucked up choices behind their backs that she knew would damage their trust though, even if her heart was in the right place, so I have a hard time forgiving her, but then, all of TFW have done that to each other at some point so it's not like it's that much worse and I think Dean eventually recognizes hes treating her too harshly as compared to the rest of the family. I do think she's initially held to a higher expectation bc she's the mother, but i think that's what made Sam and especially Dean really struggle with her not being the person they expected her to be - flawed, sometimes hurtful, couldn't even cook! A completely different person from who Dean, at least, thought she was - even though it's nothing new, he'd had no idea she was even a hunter until s4.

I really do like where their arc was going though, bc she was just starting to find where she could fit in the family and dean was finally learning how to make room for the real Mary (esp since he was also learning to make room for his own real self, which, surprise surprise, was independent of Mary's actual influence - he thought she was a good cook and ran with that, becoming a great cook himself and turns out he didnt inherit that, that was all him, again, why i really like having the actual imperfect Mary around for him to identify his own value distinct from his parents who he always felt he got everything from, that nothing he did would be possible without their influence).

I agree, the pearl episode was weird, i chalk it up to weird djinn-like rules and maybe dean (edit: bc it's *crucial* to keep in mind that the pearl is responding to what *dean* wants/needs, whether he is *aware* of what exactly it is he wants/needs) particularly wanting the opportunity to have one night with his family of origin just to get the closure he needed to fully move on and be even more invested in his found family going forward. Maybe he didnt necessarily want John back, but maybe what he really wanted was the ability to *finally* absolve himself of whatever familial duty he felt towards honoring their memory so he could stop feeling so haunted by it (edit: bc let'sbe real, he doesnt need closure with bobby or ellen or jody in that way, none of them haunt him the way his family of origin does, the greater "need" exists in addressing the relationship/role he has with his family of origin - he doesn'teven use the time to focus to greatly on the harm done, they clearly focus on having a good time and dean is satisfied that they were capable of being a family at least once, that they werent a lost cause, and even if they only had one day, they could come together to make it count, and they really did come together to fulfill deans wish with the only opportunity they had - they pulled a lot of shit, but dean will always have this memory that they loved him enough to take his lead and not squander this opportunity). I dont remember much about the episode itself, i could be off-base, but that was more or less my takeaway.

The Winchester Family: A Rant

Can I just say that Sheriff Jody Mills was more of a mother to Sam and Dean Winchester more than Mary ever was, even after Amara brought her back. Like I guess no hate to Mary...? But like isn't the whole thing about the Winchesters is that family isn't just blood. They developed wayy closer bonds than the ones with Mary, and I know it isn't necessarily her fault, but she wasn't there. Like I dunno, I just wasn't in love with Mary coming back, especially since when she did come back, it seemed like she saw they were grown up and like, didn't care..? Like it felt like she went "oh my job is done these are just two grown dudes that I gave birth to once." Like I know its a weird situation, but as a person who grew up watching Once Upon a Time, where like almost the same thing happened, with Snow, David, and Emma, I can't help but compare their reactions and Mary just didn't stack up.

Snow and David were so ecstatic to see Emma and tried so hard to make up for lost time and parent her as much as they could. They kept trying even as Emma pushed them away saying she was grown and that her and her parents were technically the same age. Throughout the show they found a way to still be her parents while still acknowledging she was grown. It was really beautiful to see, but in comparison Mary did not stack up.

Yes, she is a badass, and, yes, her identity should not solely surround her being the boys' mother, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be a mother at all. It would've been nice to see her figure out a way to strike the balance the Snow and David did, and I never got that vibe. In Supernatural, it seemed the opposite. It was Dean and Sam trying to be her sons and she pushed them away for the same reasons. I'm not saying she was a bad person, or even a bad mother, as it was a really weird situation and I can't necessarily blame her for how she dealt with it. What I AM saying, though, is that her name had no right to be carved onto that table. Point. Blank. Period.

Also, by the way, since I'm complaining, that weird episode with the pearl thing that let John Winchester come back so they could have a family dinner?????? As if that could truly be what Dean desired. Are you fucking kidding me. John sucked, made them both feel like shit, abused them, and yet that was the "family dinner" we got. It's been a while since I watched the show, so Idk a timeline, but screw the timeline for a sec. Across the entire show, a true family dinner would be Dean and Cas with their son Jack, Sam as the Uncle with Eileen, Bobby and Jody as the Dean and Sam's parents (because, unlike Mary, I very much feel like Jody struck that balance even though they weren't her actual sons) and Jody's brigade of wayward sisters trailing behind her, Donna as like the step-mother or aunt (Idk how Donna fits, I just LOVE Donna), and Charlie as Sam and Dean's little sister. Jo, Ellen, and Ash pop in with Rufus as those family members that are close, but you can't quite pinpoint how exactly you're related to them. Bonus: Kevin and Linda Tran come over like friendly neighbors because, even though they have a family of their own, the Trans are definitely close to the Winchesters, though, whether they like it or not. As much as I'd like to add Adam (to make up for him being left in the pit), I have a feeling he wouldn't want to. He seemed like a guy who refused to subscribe to the idea that because they were blood, they were family. (Maybe Sam and Dean should've learned a thing or two).

TL;DR:

Sam and Dean had a much bigger, and better, family then just John and Mary, but it was never really acknowledged fully and in the best way.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John

This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.

The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.

“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.

But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.

You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.

But it didn’t get better.

Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.

I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.

At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.

Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.

It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.

But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.

Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.

Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.

They do like blowing stuff up.

Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.

What about your responsibility?

I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.

This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.

So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.

The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.

The “absent father” narrative was a lie.

What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.

I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.

You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.

Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.

It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.

The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”

John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).

Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.

It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.

John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.

The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.

“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.

But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

ahdflksjaklf;jsls ok buddies - I hate talking about 14x13: Lebanon, but it has relevancy in the “John Winchester is a villain and cannot and should not be redeemed” discourse as well as being a crucial piece of finale denialist lore so I Have Been Thinking About It Too Much.

As you may recall, the Occult Object of the Week - the pearl - in Lebanon is supposed to grant Dean’s “heart’s desire.” Dean and Sam are Very Sure this means expelling Michael (the Dean Winchester Must Be Saved installment of season 14) (honestly that premise always seemed a little slim to me, I was hoping for Dean’s heart’s desire to be Cas, on Dean’s car, naked, covered in bees). 

Instead they summon Dad of the Year, which at first feels infuriating.  However after discussion with my earworms, I Have Fixed It (and also turned it into a grenade to launch at 15x20.)

Finale denialists and John Winchester derogatorians ASSEMBLE! and let’s discuss after the cut.

I’ve written in depth about Dean’s struggles with the cycle of abuse, so I won’t go too far into it here, but if you want to revisit any of that meta this is a good place to begin.  This post hinges on the same theory - that Dean’s true freedom is established in his release from that cycle - that is the logical outcome of any hero’s journey for him, and where he would finally be able to accept happiness and love.  This logically would also make release from the cycle of abuse and the feelings of self-hatred Dean struggles with his “heart’s desire” for purposes of the pearl.  When it comes to emotions, we also know Dean doesn’t deal with them well.  He punches things instead.  So odds are, Dean hasn’t really worked through these feelings.  

Dean also mentions when John returns that “it was what [Dean] wanted since he was 4″ - when they lost Mary, right before John became obsessed with revenge.  Season 12 Mary canonically remembers John as a “good dad,” so we can draw a line from that to the abuse really starting shortly after her death.  This is also corroborated by Dean himself:

DEAN: You know when you died, it changed Dad. 

(A visual of the John Mary remembers) (just my excuse to put pictures of Matt Cohen on your dash) (I shouldn’t need an excuse) (Matt Cohen hi you are on Tumblr please don’t read any of this I’m embarrassed).

So what Dean has is pre-Mary’s-death John and post-Mary’s-death John, post-Mary’s-death John being the one whose abuse created Dean’s own damaged persona.  Dean thinks the fix is to stop things on the front end (he is ignoring any process-centered solution, he just wants it to never have happened, he is in denial that he has to work through this and just wants it to be erased, etc etc etc).  

***also keep in mind that going back in time to change things on the front end as a “fix it” is a storyline SPN repeats regularly***

***and it always ends up being impossible to do*** 

Ok so for Dean, his damage/anger/brutal nature/darkness is always linked to John, and this cycle “began” for Dean once their family was torn apart by Mary’s death.  So the fix is his “blood family” together.  That’s his heart’s desire in Lebanon because Dean hasn’t really worked through any of his emotions, and it’s his very Dean way of fixing it - “oh if my family gets put back together I will be put back together too.”

***speaking of quick fixes, I’d like to note that any case in SPN that is referred to as a “milk run”  inevitably becomes complicated and messy***

***continuing the thematics of there’s no such thing as a quick fix***

This is no different.  Stopping the cycle by simply erasing it from the narrative erases anything else that happened along the way during the journey.  It erases this Mary (who they know as a person by this point and not just the mom on a pedestal) 

and (most importantly) it erases this Cas (the episode specifically replaces Cas with one who Doesn’t Know Dean).

We Emphasize This Of Course In The Dialogue In Case You Missed It

DEAN Cas, you know us. ALTERNATE CAS I don’t know you.

***Simply erasing the origin of Dean’s trauma erases all of Dean’s growth.  It erases this family that Dean is so proud to tell John he has now. It erases everything he has already overcome despite how hard it was to achieve it.

So, John goes back.  In that way, the pearl does give Dean his heart’s desire - his realization that this is not about a quick fix, it is about the journey to the good, and all you gain and become along the way (kind of similar to “Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it" eh?).  it’s the process.  It’s every moment along the way.  It’s the people who help him get there.

And then he starts the healing journey by taking control of his own life, by owning his feelings instead of displacing the blame, by recognizing he is NOT guided solely by the actions of his father and this cycle:

DEAN

And for the longest time, I blamed Dad. I mean, hell, I blamed Mom, too, you know? I was angry. But say we could send Dad back knowing everything. Why stop there? Why not send him even further back and let some other poor sons of bitches save the world? But here’s the problem. Who does that make us? Would we be better off? Well, maybe. But I gotta be honest – I don’t know who that Dean Winchester is.

And the episode fucking ends with Cas, the Cas Who Knows Them coming into the bunker and asking them what happened, calling each of them by name just to emphasize again That He Knows Them, because Cas knowing Dean, and Cas being Dean’s family is the cornerstone of what Dean’s heart desires.

[CAS walks in from the door at the top of the stairs. SAM, DEAN and MARY walk out from the library to see him.]

CAS Mary, Sam, Dean. What happened?

So yeah, it took 14 damn seasons but Lebanon is where Dean realizes he can be defined by more than the acts of his father.  (That’s why it’s so terrifying for Dean when Chuck snatches back any control he gained in Season 15.  Because for Dean, Chuck is just John Winchester Controls My Every Action all over again, except he’s God which makes it even worse.) 

That’s also why the final blow to Chuck is not Dean killing him. 

The last stage in the journey that begins here with Dean’s “I’m good with who I am” - [I’m still bad and dark and damaged but I’m good with it]

is Dean’s “that’s not who I am.” [the most caring man on Earth; the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know]

Thats equally why 15x18 is so brilliant, 15x19 is at least acceptable, and 15x20 simply does. not. work.

Dean Winchester’s perfect heaven cannot possibly center on the blood family.  It does not have John Winchester and Mary, husband and wife, who took away his own free will.  It is THIS FAMILY.  The found family.  Cas and Jack and Sam and the Mary that was resurrected.  Dean’s entire character arc supports this journey, and to have it culminate in something that is so established in the season prior to this one as something Dean knows he no longer wants is maddening.

I’m even more mad now because I just remembered that the most prominent picture above Dying Sam’s bed was the blood family portrait from this episode; almost like they wanted us to remember this particular stupid lesson.  This show is so stupid when it could have been so so so very good.

***I want to say thanks again to all of you who read my spiraling if you got this far.  It’s therapeutic for me to do it, but it makes it all the better that people actually read it.  Seeing you in my notes MAKES my entire day****

[hexedwinchester]

Ohh! Love everyone's take on why Sam is a hero, so here's mine:

Sam Winchester is a go-getter: He always wanted more from life and rebelled rightly so for it. People tag him as selfish for wanting something more than the hunting life and I don't think he was wrong to want that for himself. Everyone is allowed to put their own needs before others and that's just what he did. Pls remember at one point John did put some funds aside for his college, so tell me again, how is Sam selfish?

He is smart: It is quite challenging to get a full ride and he did it while moving around the country literally saving people. The amount of work and dedication that is required and to follow through especially without the support of your family is commendable. He figured out how to fix the Amara infections at the start of S11.

Stronger Emotional Intelligence: Ever noticed how Dean's core emotion from day one has been anger and resentment? In the earlier season, Sam is angry too but from season 5 onwards, he not only acknowledges the issue but has worked on it and we don't see him so angry in the later seasons. He is a lot more sensitive to the emotions of others around him. It is also why he is always keen on the so-called 'chick-flick' moments whereas Dean just hides behind the macho persona. I believe because he is so strong emotionally, he is also able to accept Death for what it is. Instead of striking up some stupid deal to save Dean's butt that leads to cosmic consequences, he accepts his death.

He doesn't blow his own trumpet: How many times has Dean said 'I killed Hitler'? He'd shout out to the whole world, pretty sure he already has. But not Sam. He doesn't feel the need to boost his ego by doing that. Might also explain why not very many people know all the ways Sam has saved the world because he never felt the need to yell about it to every other person he crossed paths with.

He knows he is not perfect: Do you know how much effort it takes to accept your flaws? to own your shit? Sam does! He knows all the wrong he has done and has not only apologized for that but also tried his best to fix it.

He learns from his mistake: I don't think I have seen Sam repeat the same mistakes that's because he learns from it (whispers: unlike someone we know)

He is sweet, kind, soft, empathetic and vulnerable. He listens. I definitely would love a man that listens.

He is effing strong: Dean gave up after 30 years in Hell and started the apocalypse. Sam endured unspeakable torture at the hands of Lucifer -who by then had a newly formed vendetta against Sam for locking him back in the cage- for 180 years and he did not stop fighting. He walked around with hallucinations that drove him into a mental hospital and even then he chose to help that girl to get rid of her brother's ghost. Sam fought against Lucifer's (Rockstar Lucifer in S12) strength keeping the door open so that the concert-goers could escape. Remember 'Red Meat' from S11? He took a gunshot to his stomach, bled out, almost died and still managed to kill the werewolves and save Dean. He managed to fight off Jake Talley from S2 who by the way had superhuman strength. Killed Gordon with a barbwire and bare hands. Survived and overcame the demon blood detox that Dean left him to die with in that Panic Room (still hate how they handled his detox). He managed to take control from Lucifer's possession! Even when he was soulless and without Dean's moral compass, he could have done a lot worse (as we have seen in the later seasons some other soulless people act heinously) but all he did was hunt and hunt better. Survived the nails screwed into his skull while ejecting Gadreel and the horrible grace extraction process. Toni's hallucination spells also did not work on him. Survived the Equalizer bullet wound and the torture that God put him through trying to extract the bullet. Need I say more?

He does care for Dean in his own little ways but is also respectful of his privacy and his boundaries. So shut up if you are going to tell me Sam does not care about Dean!

He suffered a greater loss (Jess, his parents, Madison, Kevin, Bobby, Sarah and lastly Dean) and was always blamed for most of it even when it really wasn't his fault.

So yes, Sam Winchester is a badass motherf***ing hero and no one can convince me otherwise!

#Sam Winchester Is A Hero

Why do you prefer Sam over Dean? (I saw you mention it in an earlier post, and being a Sam lover myself, wanted to know your reasons!)

What’s funny is my friend asked me the very same question the other day. I was talking about how jealous I was of Patrick, because his college essay prompt was ‘Choose a person or fiction character that inspires you and reason why.’ and I was like shit, I write that essay twice a week. Sam Winchester, man. 

To which she responded with, “But isn’t Dean supposed to be like the hero of the show?”

and I’ll tell you what I told her. 

Have you ever read that essay about how everyone is a Sam who wishes they were a Dean? Everyone is a Joe College who wishes they were a smooth talking, fast walking straight-shooter who’s brave and cunning and set in moral standards to a fault. But, shit, I’ve got charm and cunning in spades and upon occasion I’ve been seen to be brave. Dean is all of that, yeah, but that’s all potatoes to me.

What I admire is ambition. 

What I admire is Sam looking at something, some goal, some ‘I’m gonna get the fuck into Stanford and get the fuck out of dodge,’ some ‘I’m gonna find dad and kill a demon,’ some ‘I’m gonna save Dean,’ some ‘I’m gonna kill Lillith,’ some far off and away goal that’s maybe right and maybe wrong. And I admire the way that not hell nor high water is gonna stop him. 

He’s a force of nature. 

So Dean’s got the charm and the smile and the rage and the morals and the crushing defeat that tugs our hearts and jerks our tears. 

But Sam can get beat into the ground, crushed into the dirt and come up swinging, eye stone cold set on the target. 

That’s really it for me. That drive, that noprisonersnomercyiftheyreinmyway attitude. Hunt the trickster,  pull Dean out of hell, fight off Lucifer, keep the devil in the back of your mind, pull the devil out again because you need to find Dean, because there’s no such thing as failure and there’s no such thing as losing, just him and his goal, and everything he has to do to get there. 

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Can’t Forgive or Forget

Word Count: 2,030

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Mary Winchester, OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: angst, possibly small fluff? tw: trauma, nightmares

A/N: ---

Masterlist     Link to Part One

You could hear loud banging on the hotel door as you whimpered softly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you backed away from the door.

It was pitch black outside, as well as inside the room. Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to control your breathing.

“Open the fucking door!” you could hear John’s voice yelling at you as you cried softly.

Your heart was racing as you put your hands on your head, curling up into a ball as you tried to keep John’s voice out of your head.

“This isn’t real, this isn't real,” you cried softly, trying to calm yourself as you scrunched your eyes tightly.

“This isn't real,” you heard the door being pushed open as you let out a small cry.

---

“(Y/N)?! (Y/N)!” you jumped up in your bed, Dean had his hands on your shoulder, shaking you.

“What?” you gasped, sitting up.

“You were crying in your sleep,” your face dropped slightly as you sniffled softly.

“Why did you let me fall asleep?” you said.

“Because you haven't slept in weeks,” he replied.

You wrapped your arms around yourself before clearing your throat, getting off the bed.

“Is Sam back yet?” you asked.

“(Y/N),” Dean started.

“I wonder what’s taking him so long,” you walked to the door, looking out the window as Dean called your name once again.

“We need to talk about this,” he crossed his arms.

“There's nothing to talk about,” you shrugged.

After John passed away all feelings and memories came to haunt you every day and every night. You tried your best to stay awake for as long as you could, and it began to affect you quickly. It was harder to focus on hunts. Your aim was definitely messed up, you even had trouble staying still.

Sam and Dean always tried to talk to you, or help you, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. They didn't deserve the burden of knowing what was going in your head, and know about all your worries and pain. You only saw yourself as broken, only a shell of what you used to be, and it was all your fault.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, with a mix of worry, anger on his face as he looked at you.

“I’m gonna go for a run,” you said.

“It’s 10 PM,” he replied.

You shrugged, walking towards the bathroom to go change, while you could feel the disappointment radiating off of Dean.

“Keep your phone on,” he said.

You nodded softly, closing the door behind you.

---

“(Y/N)! Open the door, come on!” you could hear Dean yelling from the other side as you held back your cries, wrapping your arms around your head.

Depending on the point of view, you were getting better, or you were getting worse. The nightmares were worse, all the fear and pain had intensified, but your dad’s actions and abuse towards you came to light. 

Everything was going to be okay, or so you kept telling yourself. Then, Sam died. Dean beat you to save him, selling his soul. Fighting the yellow-eyed demon was especially hard, the three of you beaten and broken as you tried to make yourself strong. 

Then your father reappeared like a ghost. You instantly tensed up, out of fear. Your bones were aching, as well as the rest of your body, before you held in your cries, reaching for the colt and putting a final end to the demon.

“(Y/N), I know it was hard, but-” he went quiet again before you heard him sigh.

“If you don't open the door in ten seconds, (Y/N/N), I’m gonna have to pick the lock. Save us both the trouble, please,” his voice was softer than before as you let out a breath, slowly walking to the door.

It’s not Dad, Dad’s dead

You opened the door for Dean, as he rushed to wrap his arms around you, while you buried your face into his arms, crying softly.

---

“You’ve been having these nightmares since Dad died?” Dean sat down in front of you, while you looked down at your hands, watching them shaking.

“N-No, they… They started after we went t-to the roadhouse… Ellen was just praising Dad for e-everything he did a-and…” you stopped speaking, trying to hold in your cries as Dean lifted your face slightly, wiping your tears.

“W-Why did he hate me so much?” you cried softly.

“I don’t know why he treated you like that, (Y/N/N), but he can’t do it again. He won’t ever hurt you again,” Dean put his arm around your shoulder, sitting next to you as he pulled you in.

“I’m sorry I keep messing up our hunts,” you whispered softly.

“Well, lucky for you, we decided we’re gonna take a small break,” you lifted your head slightly to look at Dean.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, Sammy and I think we deserve a break. What do you think?” he asked.

You nodded softly as he kissed your forehead.

“It’s my last year, so of course I’d want to spend some time with my pain-in-the-ass younger siblings,” he teased as you smacked his arm.

“Why did you have to sell your soul?” you scoffed.

“I needed to save Sam,” he replied.

“You didn't have to kill yourself to do it,” you muttered.

“You'll understand one day,” he said.

After sitting with Dean for some time, you heard his phone go off, receiving a text from Sam.

“He wants to get drinks. Are you up for it?” he asked.

You shook your head before sitting up.

“I think I’m gonna try to sleep,” you said.

“...Okay. We’ll be back soon. Bobby’s downstairs,” he said.

You nodded, pushing yourself under the covers before Dean kissed your forehead once more, receiving a soft smile from you before he left your room.

---

“None of us should be calm, Dean! You’re wanted! I’m supposed to be dead, and Sam is on stage drinking kale smoothies!” you yelled at Dean as the four of you left the bunker, walking into town.

As the years passed, you began recovering from the trauma and scars that John left you, relying on Sam and Dean greatly. You were better now, everything was okay. You felt better than you’d felt in your entire life, and in the middle of all this craziness, you found yourself pregnant a year ago.

Sam and Dean were more than excited to become uncles and were ready to make having a kid around work for all three of you.

“Okay, calm down,” Dean said.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down, Dean!” you held your child, caressing her back as you paced in front of Sam and Dean.

“Look, we get it. It’s scary, but… what can we do about it?” Sam tried to calm you as you shook your head.

“Dean can break the pearl,” you walked towards Dean as he held up his arms defensively, stepping away from you.

“Okay, I know you hate this, but we can’t. Not yet. For Mom’s sake,” Dean defended.

“Dean, Mom’s in love with the idea of Dad. She doesn't know how much he changed after she died,” you corrected.

“Well, then are you gonna tell her?” Sam crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow.

“Sam shut the hell up,” you clenched your jaw.

“I don't love this either, and if Mom wasn’t here… but she is here. We’re going to pretend, just for the night,” Sam replied.

You closed your eyes tightly, shaking your head.

Sam walked next to you, before taking Nicole out of your arms.

“Sam, what are you-” you started.

“I saw some cute baby shoes that I want to get with her,” he began walking away from you and Dean as you scoffed.

“Sam, she isn't even a year old yet. She doesn't know how to walk!” you replied, annoyed.

“It’s never too early, I’ll see you guys later,” he continued walking away as you sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“I know this is hard, okay?” you began walking away from Dean as he followed you.

“Mom deserves the truth, but we’re not gonna tell her now. Not while she’s there with Dad. You don’t think she deserves to be happy? Be with him again?” Dean asked you.

“Dean…” you whined.

“Come on, (Y/N),” you could see the look in Dean’s face.

He said Mary wants this, but you knew he did too. There was a time before Mary died where John didn't hurt you, and you were a picture-perfect family. Only Dean remembered. After everything that happened within the past few years, you wanted him to be happy, he deserved it.

You sighed, nodding your head.

“Thank you,” he let out a breath of relief.

“But that man is going nowhere near my baby,” you warned as he nodded.

The two of you continued to make your way to the shops, getting the groceries.

---

You kept to yourself for most of the night, feeling your heart racing as you bounced your leg. The night was filled with laughter and joy. Sam and Dean were happy, John was happy, Mary was happy and you were still scared, as you had been for the whole night.

You found your excuse to leave, saying it was time for Nicole to go to bed. You waved a quick goodbye, picking her up as you went to your room, letting out a sigh. You made it through the night.

You heard footsteps approaching you, while you looked up, seeing John making his way to the bedroom door,

standing there as he led against the doorframe.

“It’s difficult, seeing you all grown up like this,” he started.

You kept your back to him, cradling Nicole in your arms as you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths.

He wouldn't hurt you, not now.

“Yeah,” you said softly.

You could feel his eyes on you as you laid Nicole down in her cradle.

“You know, you haven't said much tonight,” he started.

“Sam and Dean told me everything about them, but you… you haven't talked to me. How did life treat you after I died?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw, hiding your emotions as you turned to face him.

“Terribly,” you said.

You could see the look of shock on his face as you sighed.

“I-I had nightmares, I was in pain all the time,” you shook your head.

“I didn't-” he started.

“Nightmares that you caused,” you dug your nails into your palm, seeing his face soften.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“Are you… Do you not remember all the bruises you gave me? A-All the wounds, all the scars? Do you not remember abusing me?” you tried to hide your anger as you took a step closer to him.

“Oh, come one. I never abused you, (Y/N),” he started.

“You won’t even admit it to yourself. Well, sorry I’ve been distant, and sorry I haven't talked to you all night, but I can't find it in my heart to forget what you did, and I most certainly can’t forgive it. I hate you, so, so much.”

“You know I never meant to hurt you-”

“I don't want to hear it. The only reason I didn't tell Mom what happened, is because Sam and Dean told me not to. They want to protect your image in her head,” you spat.

You could see a pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

You didn't reply, instead, you looked away, keeping your gaze off of him while you could feel hot tears rushing to your eyes. You watched as he walked away, closing the door behind him as you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillows as you cried softly.

All memories and all the pain came rushing back, hurting you more and more than you could ever think it would. You remembered your bruises, you remembered your scars, you remembered the feeling of hating yourself constantly, all because of him.

But now it was over, and now he was gone.

[poohkeepsee]

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles  by  2street2car Words: 10,311     Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me  by  ellispark  Words: 45,876     Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine  by  LeverDrift Words: 67,939     Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills  by  ilovehowyouletmefall           Words: 26,052     Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human.  And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend  by  sobsicles    Words: 8,445     Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You  by  sobsicles Words: 95,090     Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication'  by  JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home  by  domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing  by  NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462     Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts  by  pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922     Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees)  by  sobsicles   Words: 74,173     Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim  by  Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910   Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)  by  sobsicles           Words:     108,427     Chapters:     4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date  by  aeli_kindara Words: 8,968    Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road  by  thegeminisage Words:     109,629     Chapters:     7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims  by  lagaudiere Words: 31,904     Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)  by  sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au  (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend  by  reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart  by  peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

[ladylilithprime]

(Bobby demanded more screen time, so here.)

Read Chapter Two on AO3

HOSPITALS ALL SEEMED to have a common feel to them, a confused jumble of bustle and idleness with an undercurrent of pain that clung to the walls like invisible mold. A person could choke on the feeling if they couldn't tune it out, and Bobby had only ever had marginal success at that. Worse when it was someone he knew stuck in a place like this, when it was one of his boys, because then he was usually there all the time too until they could be released and it about drove him crazier than the folks back in Sioux Falls already thought he was.

Dean swept through the halls of the hospital with a calm, confident stride and the air of a man who knew where he was going and was absolutely certain that he would be allowed to go there. Bobby could do little more than follow, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans and trying not to hunch his shoulders too obviously, twitching whenever Dean was hailed, occasionally by name, and the younger man responded easily. Like he was at home here, knew people well enough to recognize them in a hospital, but also without the morbid familiarity of "always being here". It wasn't the hospital that was home to him, but the hospital was part of his home.

He'd put down roots here, the way John Winchester had never let his boys do for as long as he'd been alive, and it made Bobby glad to see it even as he was sad he hadn't gotten to see those roots first be planted.

"Back again already, Smith?" a sassy voice called out, jolting Bobby out of his thoughts. Dean smirked at the petite blonde with the pixie cut and shrugged easily.

"You know I just can't stay away, Nurse Masters," he said, the flirty words belied by the more formal address. He gestured for Bobby to step up as he added. "Needed to pick Jimmy's father up from the airport."

"Adopted," Bobby put in, since he knew he didn't look quite old enough to actually be those boys' father. "Robert Singer, ma'am. How's Jimmy doing?"

The nurse checked some papers in front of her, relaxing a bit when she apparently found his name in them as family. "They've moved him out of ICU, as much because it's easier to keep him in bed if he's in a bed his brother and his boyfriend can pin him down to so he doesn't rip his sutures as because he's out of the woods. Dr Reed approved the use of alternative pain management therapy after the third time he woke up and immediately tried to get up and fight the nurses who tried to keep him in bed."

"Never done well being separated from his brother, either of 'em," Bobby sighed. "He alright for visitors?"

"Family only," Nurse Masters nodded, shooting a pointed look at Dean, who raised his hands in surrender. She rolled her eyes. "Smith can take you back there since he's been sneaking in to bring things to Master Wesson so he doesn't have to leave Misters Novak. He can probably answer any questions you have about your son's treatment better than I can anyway," she added with a grumble that Bobby suspected he wasn't supposed to hear.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," he said instead and, with a look to Dean, turned and headed down the hall. In a lower voice, he said, "I'm guessin' that 'alternative pain management therapy' is the official term the hospital's using for Sam workin' his particular brand of magic?"

"It flies better with the paperpushers than saying we're using magic potions and warding arrays," Dean nodded. "Sammy's a licensed herbalist and has a pharmacist certification, so the hospital is mostly sanguine about calling him in to help the patients who'd rather go the alternative medicine route or the ones who know to ask for Sam specifically 'cause they're in the network."

"Network?"

"Sam refuses to call it a coven, for everybody's safety," Dean grimaced. Bobby echoed him; it was clearly not an unfounded concern. "There's other open covens in the area, but they're more the New Age Wicca types rather than actual magic users and most of them still know Sam from Stanford's New Age Club back when he was studying there."

"Stanford? Really?" Bobby raised his eyebrows, impressed. Dean smirked.

"Got himself a full ride scholarship," he bragged, every bit the proud big brother. "Graduated with honors, too, bachelor's degree in Natural Science. Shocked a few people who were sure he was going to go the law school track, or so I heard."

"The only one on staff who wasn't surprised was my advisor," Sam called out from inside the room they had stopped in front of. "You can come in, Jimmy's awake, he's just supposed to avoid laughing or moving."

"How 'bout hugging?" Bobby raised his voice to ask, trying not to show his nervousness as he followed Dean into the room. "That safe to do?"

"Dad?!"

There they were. His boys, Jimmy looking worryingly pale in the hospital bed and Cas not looking much better where he sat on the bed's edge. Cas started to get up, but Bobby waved him back down again as he strode into the room.

"Stay there, Cas, I'm not so old yet I can't come to you," he said. His back protested bending down to get his arms around the both of them as securely as he could manage without being too tight for the painfully obvious swaths of bandaging around Jimmy's chest, but Bobby wasn't about to move until he had to. "Damn good to see you boys. Wish it were under better circumstances."

"Sorry," the twins mumbled in unison. Bobby huffed.

"None'a that, idjits," he told them. "I know why y'all can't come visit and I understand. Least you call regularly, and like I said, I ain't so old yet that I can't come to you. I could'a found a hunt us three could work together away from Lebanon before now. That's on me, lettin' myself get busy and thinkin' we'd have time later, and I'm sorry 'bout that."

"You got any idea what that's about?" he heard Dean mutter behind him.

"Dude, not now," was Sam's low-voiced response, which... was interesting, and told him that for all his boys remembered to call regularly there was apparently something they'd been leaving out of their updates.

"You boys finally found your keystone, huh?" he murmured, patting them both gently when they flinched very slightly. "S'okay, boys... I'm glad you found 'im. Even if I could do without you gettin' shot in the process. Sixty percent of my gray hairs have your names on 'em, I swear...."

"Da~ad!"

JIMMY'S ENERGY LEVELS had flagged not long after that and he'd ended up dozing off with his hand curled around Cas's wrist, a familiar sight from when they were newly-orphaned kids clinging to a terrified Bobby as their one familiar point of safety while he had fretted that he wouldn't be able to be a decent father figure to them after the hell he'd endured from his own sperm donor. It was the same fear that had held him back from really bonding with Dean and Sam when he had had the chance, and the twinge in his chest at the sight prompted him to get a hug from Sam the same as he'd gotten one from the young man's brother.

"Damn good to see you alive, too, Sam," he had muttered in Sam's ear gruffly. "You ever want any embarrassing stories about my boys, you just give me a ring, hear? Lord knows I wish I had more stories of you and your brother to tell 'em in return."

"They can get embarrassing stories of me from Dean and Jess," Sam had mumbled back, that strange deep voice suspiciously thick. "Bobby... I...."

"You're a natural witch, and saved my son's life just as surely as he saved yours," Bobby had told him, patting him on the back. "Don't you dare be thinkin' I'm upset with you for what happened. Only ones I wanna tear strips off of for this mess are the dumbasses downtown in lock-up, hear me?"

"I hear you," Sam had sniffed. "Bobby... what they were saying, about mind control--"

"Is bullshit," Bobby had told him firmly. "And you know it, just like I know it. My boys know it, too, and they clearly trust you given just how much you apparently know about them. You keep 'em safe like I know you will, and I'll be back once I've dealt with the morons who don't do their research."

So here Bobby was, walking down the line of cells behind the officer who'd been tapped to escort him, Dean a shadow at his back. The cell they were being escorted to was more comfortable than most on account of the injuries sustained by the two hunters needing special accommodation to work around their casts, but it was still a cell with bars on a rolling door that the officer had already said would stay locked. Bobby hadn't argued, and looking at the bruised and mulish faces of the pair he found he still didn't particularly want to. The rage he had kept simmering at the back of his mind ever since the phone call from Sam churned and boiled up. No, he didn't want morons like this given any chance to slip through the cracks and disappear like so many other hunters who ended up on the wrong side of the law in the line of duty. Not if they were too stupid to do the bare minimum of research needed to know a true target from a false lead, and definitely not if they were so far gone as John Winchester had been, going after innocents just because they had powers. There were plenty of hunters in his black book who could easily fill the hole having these two locked up might make. They weren't needed.

They could rot.

"Well, idjits," he said, getting their attention with his words. "Thanks to the efforts of the natural witch who lives in this town and the local surgeons, you two are not being charged with murder. Congratulations."

"So when are they letting us go?" Roy asked, frowning. He and Walt both jerked back when Bobby barked out a sarcastic laugh.

"You're still being charged with breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and attempted murder, and you've been identified as a flight risk," he told them bluntly. "What the hell makes you think you're gettin' outta there any time before your trial date?"

"Come on, Bobby--"

"Don't you 'come on, Bobby' me, moron!" Bobby snapped. "Wesson is a natural witch, something even an hour's legwork talking to people could'a told you. If you're going after healers like Wesson without bothering to check that there's even a problem, then why would I want you loose where you could hurt someone else?"

"We had more than enough reason!" Walt protested. "We know Jimmy and Cas, and they've been acting weird ever since the first time they came out here! They're not taking hunts that should be right up their alley because they're on the east coast, and a couple months back they actually helped a werewolf escape a hunter! The common factor we could see was the witch, so he had to be mind-controlling them somehow!"

"If you really knew Cas and Jimmy half as well as you're claimin'," Bobby scoffed, "you'd know what a load'a shit that is. Those boys are mind-linked and soul-bonded, you dumbasses! Mind control doesn't work on them 'cause there ain't anything out there what can get both of them at the same time."

"Ain't mind control pulling those two back here so often," Dean piped up, stepping around the corner, casual as could be. "Though to be honest I thought it was just hormones the first couple of times they turned up again."

"Dean?!" Huh, looked like Roy and Walt could do the stereo effect thing too when sufficiently surprised.

"In the flesh," Dean gave a small, mocking sort of bow. "Rumors of my death, yadda yadda. Been living here since I dropped off the radar, witness protection thing, very legal. Matter of fact... I happen to live next door to the witch you two tried to kill, and since that's my equally alive baby brother I ain't any happier with you assholes than Bobby."

"You two should probably thank him for making sure you two lived long enough to be arrested," Bobby drawled at their stunned faces. "Cas wasn't too keen on holding back on you two considering the fact you shot his brother while trying to kill his boyfriend!"

Finally the two were starting to look something other than stubborn or stunned stupid. Oh, there was still plenty of both, but some level of guilt was starting to creep up into their expressions, and hints of chagrin if not outright shame. Bobby wasn't too proud of the flare of vengeful glee that curled through him at the sight, but then he figured he was allowed. After all, that was his would-have-been-nephew that they'd gone off half-cocked and tried to kill, and his son they had shot.

"Sad thing is, if he finds out you two genuinely thought you were trying to save Cas and Jimmy from someone you thought was evil? Sammy won't even be mad at you for trying to kill him," Dean sighed. "Pissed as hell that you shot Jimmy. With a shotgun shell. At close range. Which absolutely would have killed him if he didn't have a seriously powerful witch for a boyfriend right there to keep him alive. But not mad about you trying to kill him.

"Me and Bobby, though?" Dean's face hardened. "We ain't saints like my little brother."

"We can be plenty mad enough at you both for him," Bobby agreed. "So you two can just sit in that cell and think about what you've done."

"We're needed out there!" Roy tried.

"No," Bobby said firmly. "You aren't."

A Fence Ain't A Comfortable Seat

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural: 

Pairing: background Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Bobby Singer Understands Shades Of Gray, Found Family Reunions, More Hurt/Comfort Than Fluff

Summary: When Bobby Singer got the call that one of his adopted sons had been shot, he couldn't have guessed that flying out to Palo Alto, California, would also put him back in contact with another pair of brothers he wished he could have adopted before their father got them killed.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 12: Shell

Read on AO3

THE HUNTER NETWORK in the United States was something of a joke, in that there was no actual official network. The closest folks got was the connections they made with the hunter who taught them or saved them, the hunters they crossed paths with working the same case, or the ones to whom they were introduced by either of the first two. Some of that had changed when John Castiel and James Constantine Novak had stumbled upon an old bunker guarded by a dryad that used to belong to a mostly defunct secret society of supernatural researchers and had promptly turned the location and "keys" over to one of their own hunter contacts, Robert Singer. Bobby had taken one look at the place and promptly relocated his operations from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to the more centrally-located Lebanon, Kansas, and resumed coordinating hunters and alibis from there where he had access to massive amounts of research and records from the Men of Letters to add to his own books and, once the mess of a library had been properly organized and cataloged, used to assist other hunters who called him for help.

So Bobby wasn't too surprised to get a call on one of his phone lines from an unfamiliar number, expecting to find some young newbie on the other end when he answered with a brusque, "Singer."

"Jimmy Novak has been shot."

Bobby's knuckles went white gripping the phone. The voice on the other end was deep, stern, and in no way sounded inexperienced or unsure. "Who--"

"He's alive and in surgery. His brother Cas directed me to call you, said you would want to know that Roy Buckner shot Jimmy when he and his partner, Walter Leming, attacked and attempted to kill me for being a natural witch. Jimmy--" The voice hitched, abruptly sounding much younger despite the deep timbre. "Jimmy got in between me and Buckner's shotgun. Cas knocked him and Leming out and restrained them before calling the ambulance while I attempted to stabilize Jimmy. My brother lives next door and heard the gunshot, so he rushed over and called the police when he found out what happened. Buckner and Leming are in lock-up as far as I know or care, but if Jimmy dies then my brother and I intend to press murder charges."

"If Jimmy dies, those idjits won't live long enough to be charged, I'll string 'em up myself!" Bobby growled. "What the hell did they think they were doing, charging in like half-cocked greenhorns and shooting at a natural witch who has other hunters vouching for'im?!"

"You'll have to ask them that," the man on the other end of the line sighed. "They aren't the first hunters to hear 'witch' and come out shooting without caring about the 'natural' part. Nice change of pace when Jimmy and Cas weren't like that."

"Taught 'em better than that," Bobby huffed, feeling something in his chest relax a little at the softness that entered the man's voice. "They're good boys... good hunters, too. World could use more people like 'em."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment, and then the man said in a low voice, "I'll admit, I wouldn't have been completely willing to call you if Cas hadn't told me you practically raised him and Jimmy after their parents died. I knew you had been associated with John Winchester but not why you dropped contact, but if you managed to raise those two then you couldn't be that bad."

"I got my momented," Bobby admitted with a grimace. He'd been young and stupid once, which was how he ended up having so much knowledge to pass on to other idjits before they made the same mistakes. "I used to look after Winchester's boys now and again until the bastard got a stubborn hair up his ass about folks with natural powers like psychics. Seemed to be under the impression these things were contagious or something, didn't want his boys near anyone with a lick of psychic potential, like just having powers could pull a fella left of center until he wasn't human anymore, damned idjit." He sighed, closing his eyes and reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. Thinking of Winchester while Jimmy was lying in some hospital with a hunter's shotgun round in him was messing with his head, enough that he ended up blurting out, "Keep wondering if I hadn't sent him running, maybe I could'a saved his boys before he killed 'em."

"He didn't, you know."

"He dragged 'em around hunting when they were just kids, made them live the hunting life with no alternative," Bobby huffed. "He as good as killed them, even if he didn't pull the trigger."

"I didn't say he didn't kill us for lack of trying," the man on the other end of the line said.

Bobby froze.

"John Winchester was the first hunter to try and shoot me through the head for being a witch," the man went on softly, every word ripping through the shell around Bobby's heart he'd tried to build when the rumors went around that John fucking Winchester had killed himself after killing his sons. "When I stopped the bullet from hitting me, Dean hit him and got me out and helped me hide so Dad couldn't find me. You'll have to ask him what happened after that until Dad was killed and he joined me out here, but Dean's alive too. I know he was always your favorite, Uncle Bobby...."

"Sammy," Bobby choked out. He swallowed. Coughed. Swallowed again. "I'll be on the next plane out. Where'm I flying?"

THE PLANE FROM Wichita, Kansas, to San Jose, California, took over six hours from take-off at nine the next morning, complete with a stopover in Denver to change planes and a delayed flight. It made him glad he'd foregone bringing any checked bags despite the lack of weapons that gave him as he shouldered his carryon and made his way past the baggage claim area and out of the terminal to the street, eyes scanning for anyone who looked like the man he'd been told would be waiting for him.

He spotted the sleek black 1967 Chevy Impala before he recognized the man standing against her. The resemblance to John was striking - military haircut and black leather jacket over jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt - but the casual lean and relaxed shoulders were a far cry from the uptight, paranoid bastard Bobby had run off his property. Dean Winchester didn't look much like the too-thin boy with haunted eyes and a forced cocky smirk who stuck close to his little brother as much as possible anymore, either, at least until he looked up and Bobby caught sight of that same cocky smirk that looked much more at home on his adult face.

"Well, you sure haven't changed a bit," Dean greeted him as he approached. His eyes narrowed as Bobby drew close enough not to be shouting at and he added, "Christo."

"Got more gray hair under my cap than I used to," Bobby answered him, smirking a little at the sign of lingering hunter paranoia. "You, though! You went and grew up when I wasn't looking!" He reached Dean and, hoping the cover of the airport would grant him forgiveness for being a damn sappy idjit, pulled the young man into a tight hug. "Thank God you're alive, boy... when I heard the rumors about John...."

"Cas and Jimmy mentioned something about us being presumed dead by the greater hunting community," Dean hummed, giving Bobby's back a couple of firm pats. "Jim Murphy's known where we were, but we've kept our communications limited to our aliases since I got here. Safer for Sammy, for multiple reasons."

"How's he doing, really?" Bobby asked, filing that little tidbit away to pursue later.

He had meant Sam, but as Dean nudged him towards the passenger door of the Impala he said, "Out of surgery and stable. Sam and Cas are staying with him in the room because every time he's woken up he's tried to get up and find them if they weren't."

"Makes sense," Bobby sighed, settling himself into the Impala and giving her dashboard a surreptitious pat. "Can't separate Cas and Jimmy when one of them's ill or injured, and if Jimmy's diving in front of a shotgun blast for Sam he ain't gonna be satisfied just being told Sam's okay without seeing him. 'Specially if the hospital's got him on any opiate painkillers, messes with that 'twin link' those boys have and makes 'em both loopy."

"Most of the docs and nurses know Sammy, so they're deferring pain management to him and his potions. Cas insisted," Dean confided as he gunned the motor and pulled smoothly out into traffic to leave the airport. "Think he might be trying to prove to Sammy that he doesn't blame him for Jimmy getting shot."

"And the two dumbasses who shot him?" Bobby asked in a low voice.

"Still alive," Dean huffed. "Near thing, way Cas was when I got there. Almost didn't recognize 'em through the bruising and blood, and it ain't been that long since I worked with 'em. Not too sure I want 'em recognizing me, either, after this."

"Don't blame you one bit," Bobby sighed. "Not sure yet what all I'm gonna say to 'em when I see 'em 'sides calling them sixty different kinds of moron for this whole damn mess, starting with them going off half-cocked after a natural witch without a proper investigation!"

"That where I'm taking you first?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow when Bobby shot him an incredulous look. "Hugs aside, I haven't actually seen or heard from you since I was a kid and you ran us off shooting rock salt at our tail lights. I'm taking a lot on faith because Jimmy and Cas say you raised 'em, but I don't know what your priorities here are."

"Hospital first," Bobby said. "Wanna lay eyes on my boys and make sure they're really alive. And for the record, I was only ever running that stubborn ass John off my property before he could get some innocent kid with natural powers killed thinking everything with powers was infected by a demon. It wasn't ever meant to extend to you and Sam."

"Good to know," Dean murmured. He was silent for a moment, then snorted. "Probably just as well we weren't around when you took in Cas and Jimmy, though. Your house isn't that big!"

"Place I'm in now is big enough," Bobby shrugged. "Not much better for raising kids in, I'll grant ya, but a decent place to train hunters, once they get the word. It's actually thanks to Jimmy and Cas I live there now instead'a Sioux Falls."

"Oh yeah?" Dean glanced at him, taking the subject change like a champ. "How'd that happen?"

"Turns out," Bobby said with a grim little smile, "there's a lot more to the world of hunting and the supernatural than we could'a suspected, and part of that is this organization called the Men of Letters...."

[impala1967dwinchester]

Hello I just wanted to say ur amazing writer and I was wondering if I can request Winchester brother x sister reader where the reader is the youngest Winchester maybe around 16- 17 you can choose the fits but I was hoping u can do like where the reader is depressed and has ED (eating disorder ) and doesn’t tell the brothers and one day it gets worse and passed out the brothers are worried trying to help her out but it hard for her I hope this ok if not I can do different request it just I found comfort in angst topics with struggles I go through you know sorry if this doesn’t makes sense

It started years ago. To be exact it started when your father lost it, going mental on your oldest brother Dean. The three of you were thick as thieves and it physically hurt to see the complete and utter destruction your father left behind for Dean to clean up.

Living your life on the road was okay, you had two great older brothers that kept you up. Kept you in good spirits but it's hard when your whole world around you is crashing. You know it, your family knows but no one else.

How Dean and Sam ever dealt with the massive weight on their shoulders. It blew your mind. You. You weren't worth anything, especially not your mother burning on the ceiling. Your father resented you. You didn't need him to say it, because you could tell. Dean was his soldier, Sam was the disappointment, but the smartest out of the three of you. But you, you were the reason all four of you were in this mess. The reason why John was searching for that revenge every day.

Covering it up with the idea of saving people, but you were smart, so very smart. Sam had complimented you many times on your quickness, and sharpness when it came to the lore, but regarding your father, it was never the approval you were looking for.

Lots of things happened, to get you to the age of seventeen and drowning in the pit of your stomach all because you all no desire to be here anymore. You weren't helping your older brothers you were just in the way.

In the way of progress, a major setback to them. For them to prove to John that they would be like him, do like him. They'd have to leave you behind. It was for the best.

It started off as a way to conserve the little food the four of you had. At the ripe age of seven you learned quickly that offering your food to Sam was a better idea, or skipping off to lay in a shitty motel bed was better than eating. Yes your stomach would growl and the acid would burn, but anything to keep the weight of your brother off your shoulders.

As you grew up you learned that if you stayed at school as long as you could it was the best. Dean had just learned how to drive driving was his passion, reading was Sam. And yours... yours was to stay away, out of the way.

By the age of fifteen, you had your patterned packed down and tight. You leave with Sam since he drove you to school, and since he was a senior. You felt a wave of dizziness almost every morning. The night's dinner is still wrapped in its paper bag. Claiming to take it for lunch. Dean never argued with you. Kiss your forehead and hitting the pillow quicker than he hit on the girls that passed by the motel's door.

Your father was already starting to become absent. The shadow of what a perfect family no one ever talked about. You thrived in the school building though. Sam kissed your forehead his height greatly giving him the advantage before saying his goodbyes to you and running to meet with his senior friends.

You walked alone in the hallways. The bullying started almost immediately the second you stepped into the building. Near of my brothers were aware of the shit I went through on a daily basis. Years later they still weren't.

You had settled on never telling them about my dislike for eating, you hoped and prayed most night that they'd never find out. It was better without their acknowledgment of your weakness. Who knows they might be the same way everyone was at school.

The last year had been hard for you and your brothers, your father making less, and less of an effort with all three of you. Your relationship was already straining to stay alive, the burning and hurt in the bit of your stomach was something that was constant now, and from what you could tell it wasn't going to get any better.

Your brothers are now in their early 20's still taking care of their baby sister. Nights you guys sat down for dinner were odd, without John there. The quiet days where a now older Sam would drive you to school, along by yourself all day long. The teasing being relentless.

The whole idea, you were constantly dizzy, constantly on the verge of falling asleep no matter if you were in class, or at the crappy motel room with your brothers.

Tonight though, tonight your world fell apart as you walked in through the door, your final year of schooling was just starting your summer of staying inside and reading was over. The hot day of September had gotten to you more than you were willing to say. As you walked in through the motel door, the cool air hitting you in your face, and the hot air of the evening summer day kicking you in your ass.

It was too much, down you and your light bookbag went. Dean had been on one of the motels' beds when he heard you fall, Sam behind hadn't been able to catch you even with his long arms.

You don' remember much. You do remember hearing the sounds of your brothers frantically rushing around the room, one dropping his gun, and the other rushing over to your side.

"Dean what the hell just happened?" Sam asked in a frantically worried voice. "I don't know all I heard was the engine of Baby, and then her fall to the floor," Dean said rushing to your thin frame. Neither had noticed until now when they finally had time to pay attention to their baby sister that she was rather thinner than a normal seventeen-year-old.

Paler then normal, "Sam do you notice it?" Dean asked as Sam pulled the lightweight bookbag from your small shoulders. A small hum came from Sams's lips, maybe it was too much to say it. The words making truth when they leave his lips.

Sam picked you up feeling just how boney you were. "How did we let her get this bad Dean?" He questioned, Dean kept his head down grabbing her bag and following behind Sam to the bed's side.

When you woke up your two brothers were talking quietly in the tiny kitchen. Sam saw you try to get up their conversation stopped at a halt, and they both came over to help you.

Quiet overcame the room. Dean was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Y/n?" He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, the ache in your body was strong, but not enough to make that your brother's problems.

"Y/n please be honest with us... Is this the first time something like this has happened?" Your brother Sam asked. Swallowing hard, before talking you answered Dean's question. "I feel fine guys really nothing to worry about." Answering Sams was going to be harder, you don't really remember the last time something like this happened, maybe last week in school, maybe a few years ago. "I don't remember Sam." That was all you said. Sad expression littered their coarse and worn faces.

"Y/n, how long have been like this?" Dean asked, furrowed brows as he asked the question. "Like what?" You replied. "Like how you don't eat at dinner and think we don't notice, how long Y/n? Just answer please." Dean said.

You tried opening your mouth, but the pressure of being truthful with your brothers was overbearing. Trying again and still, nothing slipped out. Sam ur interrupted your train of thought. "Since dad started on with his hunt for yellow eyes?" Simple questions always have a simple answer.

"If you want an honest answer I'd say seven or eight." You said, pushing yourself up from laying in the bed to sitting up against the headboard. The gasps for air were real between your two brothers. One hand came to rest on top of yours while the other paced around the motel room.

Your guess as to which was mad, and empathic wasn't hard for you. Dean pacing around the room meant he was angry, and Sam's empathic hand on top of yours meant he to wanted help. "Why didn't you tell us?" Dean questioned me, Sam turned to look at his older brother. "That won't help, we were talking remember. We need to help her, bot questions her about her actions or even her reason why." Sam said, Dean, calm down as he continued to pace.

Sam returned his attention to you. Hand still laying on top of yours, "Y/n why don't we, all the three of us help you yeah?" He said you laughed a little and Dean looked up from his pacing feet. "I don't think you guys could ever help me. I've been and felt this way for ten years now. This is just how I am now. Broken and worthless to this Winchester family." You said the strain of holding back was harder than you thought. Dean had paused his pacing staring at you and Sams's hand had engulfed yours.

Dean came over, putting his finger under your chin, grabbing your attention. "You listen here, to Sam and I. We care more about you than you'll ever know. We don't care what any person thinks, we don't care about Dad as much as we care about our little sister. Now believe me when we say that all we want to do is help you, helping you is what Sam and I are here for. Y/n you aren't alone, you aren't, worthless, and you most definitely aren't broken. We can help you all you have to do is let us in." Dean said sitting down next to you when he was down.

"We love you and don't wanna see so much potential be wasted especially when we knew we could have helped you," Sam added. You were having a hard time believing them, but nothing would stop you from trying especially when you had your brothers by your side.

[hahahahahangst]

Matilda (Be The Young 3)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Matilda

Matilda, you talk of the pain like it’s all alright but I know that you feel like a piece of you is dead inside

They had just worked a ghost gig in Colorado and she and Dean were getting ready to leave. The previous weeks had been weird: Sam and Dean had a fight, and the younger decided to leave. While Emily was not too keen on Sam, his presence made things between her and Dean a tiny bit better. Finally having someone who would stop their fights before one of them said something too mean or arrived on the verge of punching the other helped. He also was able to calm down Dean and to talk things out with him, which John could never do. While Sam was away, all the fights he had stopped resurfaced.

“If you wanted to die that much, you could have cut vertically.” was the sentence that finally made Emily snap and punch her brother. She probably hurt herself more than she hurt him, which triggered another fight about how she should be able to punch people without hurting herself.

Sam luckily came back the following day. 

“Can I ask you something?” He had asked once he had the chance to be alone with Emily. 

“Sure.” She didn’t raise her eyes from her laptop.

“What is going on with you and Dean?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… What’s with the fights? Did something happen when dad was still here?”

“He’s an unaffectionate son of a bitch, that’s what happened.” 

They arrived in Hibbing and settled into a local motel. Emily had a friend there and so she made plans to meet him in a bar. 

“Don't wait for me tonight, okay? I'm going out.” She said, putting on a dress that was way too revealing to be going out with a friend. 

Dean looked at her from a corner of the room, an eyebrow slightly raised. “So this… friend, Mark, right? Is anybody else coming?” 

“Dean.” She said, smirking, pointing at her almost completely bare chest. “Does it look like I am going out with a friend…for friendly purposes?” He looked surprised for a second, then he answered. “Oh- I see.” 

“Yeah… you see, when two adults like each other-” 

“Alright, I got it, no need for the details.” He smirked, hiding behind his laptop.

She was supposed to meet her friend in a bar in the center of the town, but when she arrived in the parking lot, she felt something grabbing her ankle, making her fall and pass out without even having the chance to scream. 

When Emily opened her eyes, she felt worse than she had ever felt in a long time. She hit her head hard and she was also 90% sure she had a broken ankle. It took her a while to really put into focus the voices around her. 

One of them said something very familiar: “Don’t - call me - Sammy!” Sam sounded like he was struggling as something clanged, falling on the floor. Emily could not see any of that because his cage was positioned behind hers, a thin wall to divide them.

“I’ll be damned-” She muttered, resting her head in the bars behind her. “Sam, what are you doing here?” She said, in between annoyed and relieved. 

“I was hunting! What are you doing here?” 

“I was just walking in the parking lot.” She said, frustrated. “What about Dean?” 

“I don’t know…” A deep silence fell into the dark room. “Are you okay?”

“I think I have a broken ankle.”  She said, surprised by the sudden display of worry. “But I will be fine.”

With a clanky sound, one of the cages opened and a guy, which Sam called Jenkins, crawled out, trying to leave the building. Sam tried to warn him that it might be a trap, but he would not listen. The last thing he said before running out the door was a promise of sending help. However, it was not more than 10 seconds until they heard two gunshots, followed by silence.

“So…“ said Emily a couple of seconds later, scared. “Please, Sam, tell me you have a plan.” 

“Well…” he trailed off. She took it as a sign of him not having a plan. 

“Oh, we are so screwed. You know, all I wanted was one night to just have some sex and forget about how my life sucks for a moment, but no, I guess it was not in the cards, was it.” She said, bitter. “What is it that took us here, anyway?” 

“It’s people, Emily.” 

”...what?” She said, sure to have misheard him.

“Crazy, murderous, sure… but still regular human beings.” 

She did not answer. Never before, since she started hunting, she thought humans could play the antagonist part. If something had to ruin her hook up date, at least it could have been real monsters.

They waited in silence, until the door opened loudly and another prisoner was brought in. A woman. She got thrown in the cage Jenkins used to be in. She came back to her senses around half an hour later. 

“Are you alright?” Asked Sam’s voice behind Emily. The new prisoner groaned in pain.

“Are you Sam Winchester? Aren’t you?” She asked. He confirmed his identity and the woman told them Dean was looking for them. 

“And where is he now?” 

“I…” She hesitated. “I cuffed him to my car…“ There was a hint of regret in her voice as she realized that that small action could have set her up for not being rescued.

Emily let out a groan of anger and frustration, yanking at her chains in an attempt to set free. Just a second later, someone opened the door in front of her. It was Dean. 

When he saw her, Dean frowned for one second before turning back into his usual emotionless face. If Emily didn't know any better, she would have said he was worried.

“Emily, what the hell are you doing here?” He started messing with some buttons on the wall. She did not answer the question. “Where’s Sam?” Asked Dean, inspecting the lock on Emily’s cage. . 

“I’m here.” Answered Sam from his cage. The second Dean heard Sam’s voice, he moved away from Emily’s cage to move to his. “Have you seen them?” 

“Yeah. Dude, they’re just people.” 

“And they jumped you?” He smiled, making fun of him. “Must be getting a little rusty there… Now, Emily I can get it, but you?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Said Emily, offended after less than 5 minutes in Dean’s presence. 

“Now don’t get your pants all twisted, we gotta get you out of here.” He moved back to the entrance, where he started pushing random buttons on a dashboard. “This takes a key.” He said.. He looked around, waiting for one of the prisoners to suddenly take out a key. “Okay.” he said, not getting any responses. “I better go find it.” 

“Be careful.” said Sam, while Dean disappeared again behind the door. 

“This better be the fucking last time he underestimates me…“ Whispered Emily while struggling with the chains. 

Everything went pretty much silent until the door opened again, but this time, it was not Dean. It was a big, hairy and dirty looking guy. He had a key in hand.

He used it in the same slot Dean had pointed to earlier and he opened Sam’s cage. Then, he walked over to him, rifle in his hands. Emily shivered hearing the sound of the weapon cocking. “What are you doing?” Asked Sam, alarmed. 

She did not have a plan, Sam did not have a plan, and Dean was nowhere to be found. Emily knew that if they wanted to get out of there, they needed to get more time. And so she did what she did better: she acted like a bitch.

 “Hey, asshole, leave my brother alone!” She screamed, directed at the armed guy. There was a second of silence, complete stillness, before the man started walking towards her. 

She could hear his footsteps closer and closer. 

When he finally reached her, his smell also did. It was pungent and unpleasant, haven’t-showered-or-changed-my-pants-in -weeks unpleasant.

He pointed the rifle at her. “You really need a shower, man.” She said, trying to sound cocky. The man smiled evilly as he aimed at her head. 

She stayed silent and stared at the end of the rifle. What a stupid plan. 

All of a sudden, the man seemed taken by surprise by something, he lost his balance, hitting himself on the head with the back of the rifle. He hesitated for one second: enough for Emily to jump on top of him and hit him in the face, knocking him out and stealing his weapon. 

The noise eventually attracted more people: Emily threw the first guy’s helpless body onto them to slow them down and then backed up to Sam and the other woman, who had escaped out of their cages. Her ankle was screaming in pain and running in the extremely high heels she was wearing made things ten times harder, but she hardly had the time to think about that. 

They had to fight, but eventually they all got out of the house. Emily fell to the ground, her ankle refusing to hold her up any longer. . Dena and Sam looked at her from a distance and kept talking.

“So…“ said the woman who was with them in the cages, a little bit later. “State police and the FBI will be here in an hour. I suggest you guys start walking. Duck if you see a squad car.” 

Emily found a shovel on the ground and used it as a crutch to walk towards Dean. 

“By the way, don't worry about me. I am fine.” She said, sarcastically pointing to her ankle.

“Doesn't look like it.” He answered back, looking at her foot.

“Don't you even think about bringing me to the hospital. I am fine.” 

“Okay, tough one,“ he mocked. “Shall we go?” 

They started walking towards the motel. By the time they got back, her ankle had swollen up to become blue-ish, and she sat onto Sam's bed, too exhausted to get back to her own room. 

“Can I patch you up or am I not up to your standards?” Said Dean, challengingly, while sitting next to her. Her ankle bounced on the mattress, making her hiss in pain. She gestured at him to just go ahead and he passed her a bottle of alcohol. 

“What is this for?” She asked, reading the label. 

“The pain.“ answered Dean back. Sam, in the meantime, was coming back from the hallway with a whole bag of ice. ”...trust me, you will thank me later. Now chug it.” 

She was about to complain to him that there were pain meds that were invented for that, but she figured she was not exactly in a position where she could be a choosing beggar. So she went ahead and chugged it. 

Probably too much. 

By the time Dean had actually started bandaging her ankle, she didn't feel the pain, but she started giggling, drunk. When he was done, he laid the bag of ice on his ankle and stood up. 

“Dean, you are taking care of me!” Said Emily, heavy eyelids and alcohol pumping through her veins. “Come here!” She opened her arms wide, like a kid would do, waiting for Dean to hug her. 

He was taken by surprise by that gesture and laughed under his breath before he awkwardly hugged her. He patted her on her back a couple of times before letting go of her. Sam was looking at the scene, amused, from the other bed. 

“I guess it's better if you sleep a bit, okay? Tomorrow you'll feel more like yourself again.” Joked Dean, seeing Emily almost falling asleep.

[buckyownsmylife]

Clean - John Winchester Smut

The one where John’s your best friend’s father

Warnings: smut, age gap, rough sex, oral sex (f), p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, curse words

A/N: Day 6 of kinktober and I’m really exhausted and low. But here it is. Hope you guys like it. The prompts were overstimulation and bestfriend’s father.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. It was difficult not to, especially when it felt like my body was so perfectly attuned to his, permanently in search for his attention. But of course, because things couldn’t be easy, not only was he thirty years older than me, he was also my best friend’s father.

Sammy wasn’t even my age, which made it worse. Even he was older than me, as we’d met in college, where I’d been accepted even before I was of legal age. And now that we’d ran into each other after I lost everything and everyone I knew to a werewolf pack, he felt like it was his responsibility to take care of me, which is how I ended up in his family’s bunker, permanently stuck with him, his older brother Dean, their friend Cas - who was an angel - and their father, John. The muse behind every wet dream I’d ever had since our eyes had first met.

Life with the Winchesters - and Cas - wasn’t hard or bad. Most of the time I stayed at the bunker, perfectly content in helping with research - it was my favorite activity, after all. John had been scared of allowing me to join them on their hunts, saying I needed actual training that they couldn’t quickly provide, but these last few weeks had found us alone with each other more often than not, his hands over mine as he taught me how to pull the trigger of a gun.

That part was hard, ignoring how his touch made me feel electrified when he was so close, holding my hands in front of my body from behind and directing them towards a designated target, but not as hard as the cock I felt straining his jeans and rubbing against my backside in those same moments.

We never spoke of it, both pretending to not notice, but we knew better. And that’s precisely why I allowed him to run off into his bedroom immediately after our training sessions, without accompanying him to offer my help in return.

He was my best friend’s father. I shouldn’t. But fuck did I want to.

So that’s why these last few days, it felt like the temperature had been steadily rising between us, to the point where it seemed like we’d both burn up into flames at any moment. John had gotten back from a hunt five days ago and still hadn’t offered to meet me in a training session, something that struck me as weird, but I didn’t want to bother him, so I never asked for it, opting to simply wait for his invitation.

Now, I could feel him staring at me from across the room, and as much as I wanted to ask why, I didn’t. I just kept my head down as I tried to concentrate on the research Sam asked me to help him with.

Just as I was about to finally be able to focus, though, Dean decided to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

“Who wants to go to the bar?” It was an invitation made strictly out of politeness. He’d long ago given up on ever getting me to leave the bunker to “relax” in that kind of loud atmosphere, so I just granted him a sheepish smile, to which he chuckled. “Alright, I got it. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Sam, what about you?”

My best friend’s head whipped up from the book he was reading at the mention of his name, and it took him some time to tune in into what Dean was talking about. When he did, much to everyone’s surprise, he actually nodded, closing his book and stretching up. “Sure, I think I deserve some rest after this week. Are you sure I can’t convince you to join us, Y/N?”

John’s P.O.V.

She smiled, but shook her head at my boys.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun. Besides, anytime you take me with you, someone ends up having to babysit me, and I’m sure the main reason you want to go out is to find someone to spend the night with, right?” Sam blushed, but didn’t deny. Dean, on the other hand, always my son, just chuckled, no embarrassment in his features. 

“Well, a man’s gotta live.” What he didn’t add was that if she offered, he’d exchange all the skanks in the world for a chance to be with her. The only person who didn’t take notice in his obvious crush for her was her.

There was another thing that remained unspoken while the boys prepared to leave the bunker. The main reason why someone had to stay behind with her was because no other girl approached our table when she was around us. She just had that effect. We became so enraptured by her that no one else caught our eye, and so no one approached.

We didn’t mind. She took all of our attention when she was around, and she didn’t even know it. So it was safe to say that ever since she stopped agreeing to be dragged out into bars with us, we were grateful.

“Dad?” They hadn’t realized I had made no effort to get ready until they were already at the door. 

“‘M not going tonight.” Her surprised eyes found mine from the other side of the room, but just like my kids, she didn’t say anything. In another minute or so they were gone and then it was only her and I in the bunker for the night.

I could see the tension in her shoulders from the other side of the room, and I almost chuckled. Perhaps this was only another sign in a long list of things that should show me how screwed up I was for wanting what I did, but I’d given up trying to fight it. I’d fucked woman after woman thinking about the girl in front of me, and she was still the only one I could think about when I lied down at night. So now it was time to get her.

“Y/N,” I called out to her a few minutes after the boys had left, wanting to give them time to possibly come back to get whatever item they might have forgotten, but when that wasn’t the case, I broke the silence that had fallen in the room without a second thought. “Come here.”

I could see even from the distance between us that she flinched at the sound of her own name. Had I startled her? She was a hunter, she couldn’t be so easily scared, but perhaps it was the tension that had appeared between us that made her uneasy enough to jump at anything.

Her head whipped up to look at me, but she didn’t immediately do anything, just stared, like she was unsure if I’d actually called her name or if it was only her own imagination playing tricks on her. When I refused to repeat myself, but still maintained eye contact with her, she slowly got up from her chair and made her way to where I was sitting, giving me the perfect opportunity to appreciate her body.

Fuck, she really was something. The way that jeans hugged her curves, showing off her tight ass, and how her breasts bounced with each step she took towards me. It was impossible not to be aroused - I couldn’t understand how Sam kept it in his pants. I knew for a fact Dean had eyed her quite a bit, because I was the one to remove any ideas of him ever getting with her with a single slap on the back of his head when I got him smirking down at her.

That kid was too much like me for his own good.

“You called?” She asked when she was finally right in front of me, her head doing that cute little thing where it leaned to one side as she nibbled on her lower lip, waiting for any sort of reaction from me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

John’s stare was an intense kind of torture, one that seemed perfectly constructed just to break me down to my most primal state. I had no doubt he’d be able to achieve that. After what felt like hours of him undressing me with those brown hues that had seen so much more than he actually let on, he finally showed me some sort of direct recognition, sitting up straighter in the armchair he was sprawled on, before clearing his throat.

“Yes, I did call you. You see, Y/N, I’ve found myself in a sort of… situation, for quite sometime now, and I’ve tried everything I could to get myself through it. There’s only one thing left, now. You.”

My eyebrows flew up while I opened my mouth several times, in search of something to say. Still, with the little amount of information I had, all that was left for me to ask was “Me? How can I help you?”

By the way the corners of his lips twitched up - the closest thing to a smile coming from John Winchester - it was clear that while he anticipated my questioning, it still amused him greatly. I got the impression that he thought of me as something precious, innocent even, and while I couldn’t understand neither where I got this idea or why he thought of me like that, the truth was that it got me hot like nothing else.

“Considering you are the very reason for my problem, I’d say there are a lot of ways you can help me, sweetheart.” My heart had started beating more quickly, the innuendo in his words, the tension that had been ever-present in the atmosphere between us, it all made sense. But I still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, that he actually wanted me.

I didn’t want to do or say anything that let on what I was thinking about, because God, how embarrassing would it be if I had completely misread this situation?

John sighed at my lack of response, throwing a hand through his hair as he looked around the room before fixing his eyes on me again. “Listen, sweetheart. I don’t want to put you into a difficult position and I most definitely don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want, I just think you might be interested in taking up my offer. I’ve seen the way you look at me, it’s not much different from how I look at you either. None of the boys need to know. This would just be between me and you.”

I was certain he was able to hear my heartbeat by now, but still, I forced myself to speak over the thundering sound resonating in my ears. “And what would that be, exactly? Your offer, I mean.”

John didn’t immediately answer, opting instead to run his eyes through my figure once more. I forced myself to contain the inevitable shiver, pondering how the hell was he able to feel so dominating while remaining seated, whereas I was standing up.

John’s P.O.V.

“I want to use you as my personal fucktoy,” I decided to get on with it, lay it all out in the open as soon as possible. There was no reason to hide, after all, I wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin and I wanted her to know exactly what she was getting herself into if she accepted my proposal.

“Now, I need you to really understand this, pretty girl. I’m not fucking around and I’m most definitely nothing like the boys you probably fucked up until now. When I say I want you to be my fucktoy, I mean you will be my fucktoy. I have a lot of pent up frustrations to deal with and I will not do anything other than use you. It will be rough. I will not be gentle.”

I watched with clear interest as my words registered in the girl in front of me. It wasn’t hard to see that she was interested in what I was offering, by the way she was biting her lip and changing her weight from one leg to another. I was willing to bet that she was wet already. 

“Are you sure we’ll be able to keep this from the boys?” I smiled at how she called my sons, who were both older than her, and at her priorities. There was a reason I knew I should take the leap and look for relief in her. Instead of worrying about how rough I could be, she just wanted to know about the privacy of it all.

“Come here, sweetheart,” I asked, beckoning her to my lap. She obeyed with barely any hesitancy, which instantly aroused me. There was nothing I loved more than a girl who knew her place and what she wanted.

As soon as she was in touching distance, I pulled her to sit on one of my thighs, relishing in the tiny gasp of surprise she let out at the sudden movement. “You don’t need to worry,” I assured her, while wrapping a strand of her hair on one of my fingers, while my other hand secured her in her spot. “We’re both consenting adults, right? They never have to know about what we do when they aren’t here.”

Her eyes had been staring at my mouth as I talked, and by the end of my question she quickly raised them to meet mine again, like she was scared to be caught staring. A chuckle caught in my throat, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to me. “Just come here,” I said right before meeting her lips with mine.

It was exactly as I imagined, her softness meeting my chapped lips with some timidness as I forced her to welcome my eager tongue. The tiny moan that she let out as I parted her lips to get my first taste of her went straight to my cock, making me groan before I adjusted her so she’d sit properly on both of my thighs, facing me. 

Her hands clutched my shirt as mine explored her body, masculine satisfaction filling my chest at the knowledge that from now on, she’d be mine to take.”Wanna start being a good girl for me?” I whispered in her ear, fully enjoying seeing the goosebumps that rose up on her arms at the touch of my breath on her skin.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Yes,” I breathed out without even thinking twice, completely lost to the feeling of John’s warm, manly hands groping my body. His ever-present smell of whiskey and gunpowder was going straight to my head, making me feel like the world was swirling around us as he savored my lips, my jaw, my throat, his hands getting lost in my hair before grabbing my ass over my jeans, grinding me against him.

“Then get up,” he ordered, already helping me do as he said with his hands on my waist. When I was standing in front of him again, he ran his eyes through me one more time before continuing, “Now strip.”

I’d normally feel at least a bit timid of following his direction, but with John looking at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on, I found myself wishing that my clothes were already on the floor - especially since it suddenly felt way too hot in this bunker, the fluorescent lights a sun in itself. 

First went my shirt, before I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall down to my ankles. John licked his lips at the sight of my body in just my underwear, before telling me to step out of my jeans.

He didn’t need to tell me to proceed with my strip-tease, I did so instinctively, my bra quickly falling down to the floor before my panties followed the same path. John’s gaze had darkened considerably, and had become so strong that it almost felt like a physical presence over me, exploring my crevices.

“Pull out that chair, sweetheart,” he nodded towards one of the simple wooden chairs we kept by one of the dining tables, and although I quirked an eyebrow in his direction, I did as he said, positioning the chair to face him, before he tutted. “Turn it around,” he instructed, and I did so quickly, my breasts bouncing with each step I took. “Now brace yourself on the back of that chair.”

For the first time, I hesitated before doing what he wanted. With him still seating right behind me, I’d be quite literally giving him a vision of everything. But of course, that was precisely what he wanted, so I just resorted to doing exactly as he said, wrapping my arms around the back of the chair and leaning over so that my pussy was on display for him.

I didn’t witness any sort of reaction for a few seconds, and my heart was beating so loudly I couldn’t even hear his breath to be able to actually pinpoint if he was still seated or not. All I knew was that with each passing minute, my nerves stood on end, my nipples tightening in the warm air of the room while I could feel my wetness start to seep out of my lower lips.

But then, I felt his hands on the back of my thighs, his warm breath right over my most intimate part, like he was teasing himself with my smell before allowing his own satisfaction. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he whispered in that rough voice of his that always gave me shivers. Accompanied by a sweep of his knuckles against my most sensitive part, it almost made my knees buckle.

John’s P.O.V.

I had to stop myself from chuckling at how much my little actions affected her. I could only imagine how she’d look all fucked out, when I was done with her. “Hang there, sweetheart, I wanna get myself a taste.” Keeping her still by my grip on her legs, I buried my face on her pussy from behind, paying attention to the adorable little gasp she let out at the first swipe of my tongue. “You can be as loud as you want, pretty girl. The boys aren’t here to hear ya.”

I slowly collected some of the wetness already slipping out of her with the tip of my tongue, relishing in her sweet taste. I immediately needed more, needed to have it dripping off my beard, imprinted on my taste buds.

All calmness and control recklessly abandoned, I pressed myself further inside of her, only half-listening to the broken moans and gasps leaving her lips as she tried to remain in the position I ordered her to be in, while I lapped up her cunt with a vigor I hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Fuck, you really are a sweet thing, aren’t you? I’d forgotten how great young pussy tasted. Hang in there, sweetheart, this might take a while.” It wasn’t my plan to spend so much time just eating her out, but she was just too delicious to leave without having her cum directly against my tongue. So I gave her my all, engulfing her pussy in my mouth as my jaw rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, my beard certainly leaving a burning sensation I could only take egoistic pride in. Finally, she gave me what I wanted, cumming directly into my mouth with my nose pressed against her little clit, and I drank it all in, licking my lips and hers to make sure I wouldn’t waste any drop.

She was still trembling and trying to catch her breath when I pulled away from her, rubbing my lips to chase the remnants of her taste. Then I paused, once again looking her up and down, from the tiptoes she was resting on, the back of her thighs until the perfectly presented cunt just there for me to take.

“Wait just there, darlin’, I think I might need a second taste.” By the time I was done with her, three orgasms later, she’d cum with my hands spreading her asscheeks, after I fucked my tongue inside her pretty little asshole, with a single finger inside of her while I bit on her thighs and finally, with three digits buried to the knuckle, as she begged me for a release I was more than happy to give her. Her juices were already dripping past her ankles, and as much as I wanted to lick it all up, clean her with my tongue, my cock had been throbbing inside my jeans for far too long to continue to be ignored.

Rising up behind her, I caressed the skin of her back as I tried to calm her down, while I kept one hand on my belt, prying it open. “There, sweetheart. We’re almost done, aren’t we? All that’s left for you to do now is to welcome my cock into that tight cunt of yours. Think you can do it?”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

My heart couldn’t keep up with what was going on. It felt like I’d just run a marathon, my skin all sweaty while my wetness dripped on the concrete floor below us. “Y-yes,” I answered with all the energy I had left, flinching at how hoarse my throat felt. “I can do it.”

John chuckled warmly, and it was with a jolt of excitement that I realized his cock was out, as he pulled me against his chest by my hair. “I know you can, sweet thing. The question is… how badly do you want it?”

He rubbed his cock against me as he whispered the question in my ear, and I gasped at how thick he felt, immediately comprehending what he wanted from me. “Please, John, I want it so bad. I want your cock inside of me, I need it.” 

The growl I got in response let me know I had gotten it right even before I felt the head of his cock pressing against me, spearing me open. He shoved it all inside of me in a single thrust, not allowing me anytime to get used to the feeling of being so brutally stretched after he bottomed out.

“Now, darlin’, you just hold onto that chair and let me ruin you.” Pushing me against the chair again, he immediately started to pound against me, both hands so tightly holding onto my waist that I was sure I’d have bruised in the morning.

He wasn’t lying about ruining me. I’d never been so forcefully fucked in my entire life, and it wasn’t hard to see that I had John’s sexual experience to thank for it. “John!” I screamed out his name as I felt myself reaching that high again, my channel throbbing around him. He just kept fucking me with the same intensity, turning my sensitiveness into overstimulation in a second.

“John, please!” I begged as tears rolled down my cheeks from the way it all felt like too much - the feeling of being so filled, the way my clit ached and throbbed, my pussy trying to push him out and keep him in at the same time. Still, I couldn’t be certain of what I was asking for - for him to stop? To continue? Both ideas sounded equally necessary to me at that moment.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be my fucktoy?” He asked threateningly, pulling me by my hair again so he could lick the salt on my cheek. “You can take it, sweetheart. You’re a big girl, aren’t you?” With a slap over my clit, I cried as my last orgasm suddenly intensified and I felt myself bursting with a white hot flash of an orgasm as I squirted all over our clamped legs.

When I finally managed to blink my eyes open again, I realized John was still hugging me to him, but he’d stopped moving. Then, I realized the mess between my legs was even stickier, and it all made sense.

“I forgot to ask you where I could cum,” he joked, kissing my temple before slowly pulling out of my abused pussy. He looked around for my clothes before selecting my shirt to wipe the excess moisture on our skins.

“It’s okay,” I explained as I tried to catch my breath, still frozen on the same spot and holding the chair, since I was scared my legs would fail me if I tried to move. “I’m on the pill.” Before I could say anything else, John picked me up bridal style and started moving us towards the bedrooms, making me wheeze in surprise. “Where are you taking me?” I inquired, confused and tired, but he looked down at me like I was suddenly gone crazy. 

“My bedroom. I figured I’d let you soak in a bath while I take care of the mess we left in the living room. Then I can come back and hold you for a bit, before you fall asleep. How does that sound?” As hard as it was to wrap my head around the concept of John Winchester performing aftercare, I was too tired to even question, so I just nodded, smiling softly up at him.

“Sounds perfect.”

[hawkland]

My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies:  Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out. 

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley.  It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet. 

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind. 

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable. 

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell. 

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.