#because he’s sam “you’re my big brother there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you” winchester <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months ago

Text

Useless

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Demon Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by @abiball027

Synopsis: Dean does some things as a demon that everyone regrets.

Warnings: demon blood addiction, demon Dean gets the reader addicted to demon blood, kidnapping, this one’s kinda dark guys, angst with a happy ending.

Your body was on autopilot as it led you through the bunker. You didn’t even realize you were headed to Dean’s room until you stopped in front of his door, unable to go further. Your hand twitched towards the knob, but you stopped yourself from reaching out to grab it.

There was nothing in there you wanted to see. You didn’t want to look at Dean’s body again; you couldn’t.

You staggered in surprise when the door flung open. Dean’s frame filled the doorway, and it was all you could do to stay upright.

“De…what…” you caught sight of Crowley in the room behind him, and you directed your next words at the king of hell. “You—did you bring him back?”

You didn’t want to wait for an answer; in fact, you were a split second away from throwing yourself at your big brother when Crowley stepped between you.

“I wouldn’t do that; he’s still adjusting.”

“Adjusting? Crowley, what did you do?” You demanded, before shaking your head. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell Sam.” You turned to go, but Dean’s hand shot out at an inhuman speed, and he held your arm in a vice grip.

“What—Dean?” You looked up in surprise at your big brother.

“No Sam,” he demanded, but his eyes seemed unfocused. That is, until he blinked and they flashed black. You wrestled your arm from him and stepped back, your hand going to the demon knife at your belt. You pulled it out, directing it at Crowley.

“You…” your voice shook with anger, and you nearly choked on it. “You let one of your filthy demons possess my brother?”

“Not exactly.” Crowley shrugged.

“What—“

Dean interrupted you.

“It’s all me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not possible.” You shook your head. “It can’t be.”

“Oh it’s Dean alright,” Crowley said. “Because of the Mark of Cain, he can’t be killed. I merely brought his soul out of its little…hibernation. Or, chrysalis, I suppose is a better analogy. And now he’s evolved into…well, this.”

Dean and Crowley’s matching grins turned your stomach.

“W-we…” you swallowed, trying to let your mind catch up with your racing heart. “We can fix this. We know how-how to cure demons. I can get Sam and we—“

“No!” Dean’s sudden tone change made you flinch. “I don’t want to be cured, and you’re not going to get Sam.”

“I-I don’t understand.” you shivered.

“No. You wouldn’t.” Dean chuckled darkly. “You wouldn’t understand power.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. You’ve always been the weak one, so you wouldn’t understand what having power feels like.” Dean’s eyes flashed black again, and you flinched. “Well I’ve got power now, and I like how it feels.”

“Stop it.” You shook your head, turning to Crowley. “Dean wouldn’t say this stuff. What did you do to him?” You yelped in surprise when Dean’s hands once again grabbed your arms.

“It’s all me, N/N. The new me. The better me.”

You tried to break free from Dean’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Crowley stepped forwards, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“We should get out of here while Moose is still gone.”

“You’re right.” Dean didn’t release his grip on your arm. “But I’m bringing her with.”

“What?” You and Crowley asked in horrified unison.

“Dean, you agreed to leave it all behind. You said you didn’t want—“

“I said I didn’t want Sam stopping me,” Dean interrupted Crowley. “She’s not strong enough to do anything to me.” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Dean continued. “But, with a little help, she could be useful.”

“Help?” Crowley frowned. “How could she do anything for us?”

“She can…” Dean’s eyes flashed black—it seemed to be his new favorite trick. “If I give her a taste of power.” Dean shoved you towards Crowley. “Hold her still.”

Crowley took hold of your arms without question, although he was clearly hesitant.

Dean took the demon knife out of your hands easily, and he sliced a small cut on the heel of his hand.

“What are you—“

Dean took advantage of your mouth being open by pressing the heel of his hand to your lips. You froze up as Dean’s other hand came up to plug your nose.

He’d completely cut off your air, and you struggled as the metallic taste of Dean’s blood invaded your mouth. He and Crowley easily held you still, and Dean kept his hand there for several seconds before moving it so that his palm was covering your mouth. No more blood was going in, but you still couldn’t breathe.

“Swallow and I’ll let you go,” Dean said. You continued to struggle, but it was useless. “C’mon little sister, just swallow.”

You struggled until you felt dizzy and your lungs were screaming. You swallowed almost without meaning to, the bitter taste of Dean’s blood invading your senses. Dean and Crowley released you simultaneously.

You backed away from both men, stumbling against the wall as you gasped for breath. You didn’t even know what to say; you were too confused, too hurt, too scared.

“What was that?” Crowley asked, sounding as confused as you felt.

“Like I told you,” Dean growled. “With a little power, this little rugrat might be useful. And since I’m the one controlling the power…” Dean waved a hand over his cut wrist, and it healed itself. “I’m the one who she has to listen to. The perfect little sidekick.”

You didn’t need to hear anything more. You turned on your heel and tried to run, but Dean grabbed onto your arms and flung you against the wall. The back of your head hit the wall, and suddenly you couldn’t see or feel anything.

…

You awoke to the gentle purr of the Impala, and for a long moment you couldn’t tell what was going on. Were you on a hunt? You couldn’t remember. Then you tried to move your hands to rub your face, and they stopped, impeded by something metal. Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was your hands cuffed to the back of Dean’s seat. Crowley was in the passenger seat, and the memories came back almost instantly.

“She’s awake,” Crowley said.

“Ahh, good morning sweetheart,” Dean grinned, a sickeningly sinister smirk that looked nothing like your big brother.

“Where are we? Where are we going?” You looked out the windows, but the road sides were no help to your poor sense of direction.

Dean just chuckled.

“Wherever we want.”

…

The three of you drove all day, and once the sun lowered behind the horizon line, Dean pulled into a seedy motel. He opened his door and came around to your door. He didn’t unlock your cuffs; instead, he pulled a flask from his back pocket and unscrewed it, bringing it up to your mouth. You knew it was his blood before the liquid touched your lips, but again your struggles were futile as Dean held his hands over your mouth and nose until you swallowed.

“See, that’s not so bad,” Dean cooed even as you shuddered. “A few more of these and you’ll be so hooked, you’ll be begging me for another hit.”

Crowley watched with an unreadable expression as Dean freed your wrists from the handcuffs and led you inside the motel. Within minutes, Dean had you cuffed to the air conditioner in his room, and he and Crowley were off to party at the nearest bar. You tried to wiggle around to reach into your pocket, only to discover that Dean must’ve taken your phone and lock picking kit while you were knocked out. With nothing to focus on, you became acutely aware of the hunger pangs that were becoming more frequent: you hadn’t eaten since you’d been in the bunker. But soon, a different hunger took hold of you. It was unfamiliar, and it hurt worse than normal hunger. Fear began to nag at you, but you shook it off. You couldn’t be hooked on demon blood already, could you?

You couldn’t be sure, and that only flamed your panic. This whole situation was crazy, and you didn’t know how to adjust; Dean, a demon; you, kidnapped; and demon blood being fed to you no matter how much you tried to resist. Your mind played around with the idea that it wasn’t really Dean—that Crowley had lied and it really was some random demon inside your brother’s corpse—but you knew that Crowley, as devious as he was, had no reason to lie.

And that meant that it really was your big brother, trying to turn you into a demon blood addict just so that he could use you.

“We’re back!” Dean crowed triumphantly, snapping you out of your thoughts as he entered the motel with Crowley at his heels. A fast food bag was tossed into your lap, and Dean reached over your head and released you from the handcuffs. You chowed down on the burger without hesitation—you were too hungry to be ornery—noting in the back of your mind that Dean had remembered exactly how you liked your food; maybe he was still in there somewhere.

To your dismay, the food could only satisfy so much, and that unfamiliar pain lingered. You felt your eyes unintentionally slipping towards Dean’s flask, and unfortunately Dean noticed too. A wide grin split his face as he looked from you to his flask.

“Knew it wouldn’t take much to have you hooked,” he said, and when you started to shake your head in a panic his gaze softened—if only slightly. “Hey now,” he soothed, coming to sit by you and pulling out his flask. “It hurts, right?” At your hesitant nod, he continued. “I know it does. Now let your big brother take the pain away, ok?”

His tone was so familiar, and yet so unfamiliar at the same time. Soothing words that Dean might say to you before stitching up a wound—but that was not what was happening now. Dean’s voice was gentle, but his eyes held a dead indifference that had never been directed at you, not from Dean. Everything felt so wrong, and you were so overwhelmed and hurting that you could do nothing but cry softly as Dean lifted the flask to your lips and forced the liquid down your throat. He didn’t even bother to plug your nose, as you were too tired to fight him—you swallowed with no protest other than the tears tracking down your cheeks.

White hot shame filled you along with the demon blood. You had more fight in you than this, you knew you did. But this was different.

You’d never expected to be fighting against your brother, and that thought alone drained all of the fight in you.

“There it is.” Dean’s smirk turned your stomach, and you were already starting to regret eating that burger. “See? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed onto your shoulder.

“C’mon, I’m gonna cuff you near the couch so you can get some sleep.”

Dean cuffed your hands to the nightstand next to the couch. You could lay on the couch with your arms stretched over your head; it was uncomfortable, but better than the floor you supposed.

To your surprise, you fell asleep quickly, drained from the long day on edge. But it was a fitful sleep, and some time in the middle of the night you awoke panting. It took you a moment to realize what was different; you weren’t handcuffed anymore. You looked down in your lap to see the cuffs in three pieces. You stared down at your hands; had you done that?

A groan from one of the beds had you flinching as Dean sat up. His eyes found you in the dark, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the black abyss that used to be your brothers bright green eyes. Then he blinked, and the green was there, but it wasn’t the same.

“Go back to sleep,” he demanded, and you were laying back down when he suddenly got up. You felt your body shaking as Dean approached you; you’d never been more scared of anyone than you were of Dean right now.

“Seems the demon blood is working,” Dean chuckled as he held up the broken cuffs. His eyes flickered to you. “How does power feel, little sister?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question. You didn’t feel powerful. Sure, you could break steel without even meaning to, but you had no power over your situation; if anything you felt more helpless than you ever had.

Unless…

Remembering Sam’s powers when he’d been drinking demon blood, you pushed your hand out in front of you. Before you even made contact with Dean, he staggered back and fell—you had telekinesis!

You jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. It had the door-block on it, but it tore loose when you yanked the door open. You took one stride out into the night air before strong arms wrapped around your midsection and flung you backwards, back into the motel room.

“Your powerful, little sister,” Dean chuckled darkly. “But not more powerful than me.”

You backed away, not even looking where you were going as you tried to escape your approaching brother. Your foot caught on the desk, and you went down hard, but you kept backing away, using your hands to scoot back. It didn’t do much, and when Dean reached you he gripped your shoulder and dragged you to your feet. He shoved you back down onto the couch, and turned and walked out the door without another word. You sat there in confusion until Dean returned—presumably from the Impala—with thick chains in his hands.

“This should hold you for a bit longer.” He smirked. “At least until I can get you so addicted to blood that you won’t leave.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you insisted.

Dean just laughed.

…

The pain was all consuming; you could think of nothing else. You were hungry, too, and thirsty, and your back ached from sleeping on the couch; but none of that mattered. All you could think about was blood.

You found yourself suddenly much more sympathetic towards Sam; sure, you’d felt bad for him—you knew his addiction had hurt like crazy—but you’d never felt it before. It was a new kind of pain in a world where you thought you’d experienced every kind.

What made it hurt worse was knowing that it was your big brother inflicting this pain, and not to get you un-hooked on demon blood; he was doing it to teach you some kind of sick lesson. Or maybe he thought it would get you even more addicted; if so, it was working.

After your little stunt trying to run away, Dean had chained you up to the wall, gagged you, and left with Crowley. That was yesterday; he hadn’t returned, even when night came and went. He knew the withdrawal pains would hit you like a truck; you figured that was the point.

What if it wasn’t a lesson? What if he was just sick of dragging you around, and he left you there? His words wouldn’t stop echoing in your head…

“You’ve always been the weak one…”

You’d always felt that way, but to hear Dean—even a black-eyed Dean—say it out loud hurt more than you wanted to admit.

And the fact that, even with demon blood in you, you couldn’t break out of the chains Dean put on you seemed to aid his description of you.

Were you really so pathetic that you were only useful when pumped full of demon blood?

“Hiya sweetheart, did you miss me?”

You’d been so lost that you didn’t even notice Dean enter the hotel room until he was right in front of you, unlocking your cuffs and pulling the gag down. When he was done, you felt your hands grip onto his arm of their own accord, and your eyes found his pleadingly. You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what you were pleading for—food, maybe? Water? But you and Dean knew all too well.

“You did miss me,” Dean said with a grin. “Is this what you want?” Dean held up a fast food bag. You hadn’t eaten in a day, you should have wanted it.

But you didn’t even look at it.

“No?” Dean put the bag down and picked up a water bottle. “How about this? Not this either?”

“Dean…” you mumbled, your eyes slipping down to your hands. “It…it hurts, Dean.”

“Aww.” Dean chuckled. You knew he was patronizing you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him to make the pain go away.

“What about this?” Your eyes lifted to see Dean pulling out his flask. You saw a hand reach out for it, surprised when you realized it was your own. Dean wouldn’t let you touch it, though. He pulled it out of reach, shaking his head. “Don’t touch, sweetheart. That’s my job.”

You didn’t move as Dean opened the flask and lifted it to your face. You wished you could pretend that he was forcing you to drink the blood, but it wasn’t true anymore. He really had gotten you hooked.

The only question now was what would Sammy do when he found you?

…

The next few weeks fell into a regime. You tagged along while Dean and Crowley dragged you to town after town, bar after bar, motel after motel. After the first week, Dean stopped using the chains; he didn’t need them anymore. The resourceful, smart Winchester in the back of your mind knew that he was training you like a dog—when you listened, he let you drink from his flask; when you disobeyed, he let you suffer—but there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t resist the demon blood anymore, it hurt too much. And a part of you—the part desperate to please your big brother—didn’t want to. Dean thought you were useless without powers, and you didn’t have it in you to disagree anymore. The only reason Dean even wanted you around was that you had powers. Without that…

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Crowley approached you and Dean.

“We need to talk,” he said to Dean.

“So talk,” Dean said with a shrug. “She won’t bother us.” Dean waved offhandedly at you.

That’s all you were now; the sidekick, the tool, meant to stand aside and keep quiet.

“I don’t think you want her to hear this.” When Dean didn’t respond, Crowley sighed and continued. “Moose called.”

You stiffened, and Dean noticed.

“Go take a walk, N/N,” Dean said. You didn’t argue—you’d given up on that—but you did hesitate. Dean blinked, his eyes flashing black, and you flinched. “I said take a walk.”

You left without another word, but your brain was going a million miles a minute.

Sam called? Was he coming? Would he fix Dean…and you?

…

You returned to Dean when he waved you over.

Like an obedient little puppy, you thought disgustedly. You thought you’d given up on your pride and your dignity weeks ago, but the thought of Sam returning to see you like this brought it all rushing back.

“Here.” Dean pulled out his flask when you approached him. You stiffened and you had to force your head to turn away from your big brother. Dean scoffed, “One mention of Sammy and now you’re all high and mighty?” Dean’s fingers clenched around your jaw, and he turned your chin to face him. “Let me make this clear; drink now, or I won’t let you for the next two days.”

Your breath caught in your throat; the most he’d ever cut you off was for about a day, and that had been one of the most painful days of your life. You couldn’t do it, you knew you couldn’t.

Dean let go of your face, and you tilted your head up slightly, your lips parting just a little. It was all the assent that Dean needed.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed, uncapping his flask.

What had you gotten yourself into?

…

You’d been getting better and better with your powers. Dean had had you practicing, mostly on random demons that Crowley let get too close to him.

The better you got, the more you began to think that Dean was right; you had been useless before, never able to help your brothers. Now you could help—now you had power.

Every time you got better with your powers, Dean would flash you a wide grin—it was cocky, not at all like his old proud smile—but it was good to see nonetheless. It felt good to do something for your big brother. It felt like you were finally repaying him for everything he had done for you.

“Pick a side!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Crowley’s outburst. You had followed Dean into Crowley’s demon meeting after Dean murdered one of Crowley’s clients. After weeks around Crowley, you tended to tune him out, but now he seemed heated, and Dean was tense beside you.

“Or what?” Dean asked before shoving a Crowley across the floor. Crowley got up in a huff, glancing around as if to see if his demons had noticed—of course they had.

“This—“ Crowley gestured between himself and Dean “—is over. You’re too unpredictable.”

“Ok,” Dean said, a nonchalant smile gracing his lips. “How’s this for unpredictable?” And suddenly he was looking at you, eyes boring into you as if you could read his mind. To your surprise, you could; or at least, you knew what he wanted. He wanted to piss Crowley off—he wanted you to exorcise all of Crowley’s goons. You’d only ever exorcised one at a time, which was a far cry from the five that surrounded you now.

Still, your big brother wanted something from you, and you were going to do your best.

You closed your eyes in concentration, holding your hand out as almost an anchor. You could feel the power pulsing through your blood, as if the demon blood was intertwining with your own. You heard screams of pain from the demons, but you blocked them out, hyper-focused. When the screaming stopped, you opened your eyes to see five empty vessels strewn across the floor. Your attention turned to Crowley, your hand still outstretched.

He staggered back a half step, but Dean reached out and pushed your hand down.

“Hey, easy—not him sweetheart.”

Your attention turned to Dean at his words, and there it was; that proud grin. Your lips twitched up even as you thought that you missed the way the old Dean would let you know he was proud of you. The way that he’d smile a real smile, and ruffle your hair, and say, “Good job, kid.”

Instead, this Dean smirked and pulled his flask out of his back pocket, holding it for you to drink from even as he turned his attention back to Crowley.

“You want unpredictable? You want this to be over? Good; I don’t need you, I never did.” Dean capped his flask and turned to go.

He didn’t even look back to see if you would follow; he knew you would.

…

You sat on a stool beside a piano in an empty bar, watching Dean play around with the keys. It had been hours since he’d let you have a drink, but every time you tapped his arm he just snapped at you to leave him be. You were doing just that—sitting quietly and watching your big brother—when the door to the bar opened.

“Sam!” You jumped up before you’d even fully registered that it was Sam who’d walked in the door. When you started towards him, Dean’s voice stopped you.

“No.”

It was just the one word, but it was enough. Your body acted almost if its own accord, stopping the instant the word was out of Dean’s mouth. You’d gotten used to obeying him without question lately, and it was a habit you weren’t so sure you could break.

“Commere,” Dean said, and again you listened, going to stand beside him as he stood from the piano bench.

Your eyes drifted to Sam, who was looking from Dean to you in utter confusion.

“Good.” Dean’s voice brought your attention back to him, and you saw him reaching into his back pocket for his flask. Your stomach dropped to your toes; that was why he wouldn’t let you drink earlier. He suspected that Sam was coming, and he wanted you to be desperate enough to drink in front of him. Your heart caught in your throat as you stared up at Dean, as if he could somehow undo what he’d already done. He just smirked at you as he uncapped the flask and held it up.

Your body was screaming for it—you’d been achy, pain stiffening your muscles for at least an hour—you needed it. Keeping your eyes downcast so that you didn’t have to see Sam’s face, you took a half step closer to Dean and let him tilt the contents of the flask into your mouth.

“What are you doing?” Sam lurched forward, recognizing the substance immediately. “Dean, you can’t! Y/N, stop!”

“Aww, it’s not her fault, Sammy,” Dean chuckled as he pulled the flask away and capped it. “She was never gonna be strong enough to stop me.”

You ducked your head in shame even as your nerves were screaming for more blood. You couldn’t bear to even look in Sam’s direction.

“Dean, what did you do?” Sam demanded, panic lacing his tone.

“Made her useful!” Dean insisted, still grinning like this was all a great joke. “You should see her now, Sammy. She exorcised five demons all at once today, I bet she’s pretty tired out.”

Despite yourself, your lips twitched up in a small smile at Dean’s words. He was bragging on you to Sam—it was nice to hear.

“Useful?” Sam’s scoff brought the shame back. “Dean, she’s not an object! She’s not some kind of tool for you to use! She’s our sister!”

“So what? She was useless before, a weak and pathetic tag-along. I finally brought some purpose to her life.”

You bit down hard on your lip to keep it from quivering. You kept your gaze down so you didn’t have to see either of your brothers.

“Dean, stop it!” Sam yelled.

“Fine.” Dean shrugged. “You want me to stop? Try and bring her back. She won’t go, I’ve got her hooked more than you ever were.”

Dean stepped back, watching from the other side of the piano while Sam approached you. You kept your eyes on your shoes even as you heard Sam approaching.

“Honey, hey, look at me.” Sam came to a stop mere inches from you. Your breaths picked up as tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to blink them back and look up at your brother. The hate that you were expecting wasn’t there, neither was the disgust or the anger. Instead, Sam’s eyes were gentle; understanding. “I can help you. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“But…” Dean’s words swam around in your head, and they were all you could think of. “But without this I’m useless. I wanna be useful. I’m useful, Sammy, I’m powerful!”

Sam’s gaze never wavered.

“But are you happy?”

You stopped. You’d been so worried about being useful to Dean, that you hadn’t even thought about…

Your head shook slowly from side to side, the tears returning. Sam’s gaze softened even more.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Sam,” you whimpered, finally letting the tears fall. “I-I didn’t mean to—but I can’t st-stop.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, and you flinched when you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Shh, hey…” Sam pulled you into his embrace, and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head as he rubbed your back. “Honey it’s ok. We can fix this, I just gotta take you home.”

“She’s not gonna leave me, Sammy,” Dean mocked. “I’ve got her hooked.”

“You’re coming too,” Sam directed at him. “I didn’t just come for her. We can cure demons, Dean.”

“Did you even stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn’t have left? And I certainly wouldn’t have gotten our little sister addicted to demon blood just to cut off her supply.” Dean jeered, laughing. “I mean, what kind of brother would do that?”

“Enough, Dean! I’m bringing you back whether you want to come or not.” Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of demon cuffs.

“Do you really think those will hold me?” Dean scoffed.

“We’re about to find out,” Sam sighed.

A hiss filled the air, followed by smoke that separated both of your brothers from your sight.

“Sam! Dean!” Your cries were followed by a fit of coughing when you breathed in the gas. A hand on your shoulder turned your attention to Dean, who was trying to drag you towards the door.

“Sammy,” you protested, searching through the gas for your brother.

“He’s fine,” Dean growled, pulling harder. “Now come on.”

“No!” You yanked your arm from Dean’s grasp. He didn’t try to grab you again; he didn’t think he had to.

“Y/N, come. That’s an order.”

You gritted your teeth, shoving down the pain in your body that begged you to listen to Dean.

“Screw your orders.”

Dean’s eyes flashed black as he advanced on you.

“You little—“

You didn’t hesitate—you lifted your hands and used the telekinesis that Dean had given you to fling him across the room. You turned your back, not even bothering to see where he landed.

…

You found Sam easily, and the two of you made it out of the building after Dean. The minute Sam stepped foot out the door, a man came out of nowhere and knocked him out.

“Sam!” You knelt next to your big brother, glancing in fear at the man who��d hit him. He hesitated when he saw you were just a kid.

“Stay out of my way, or you’re next,” he warned before turning to face Dean. You remembered Dean mentioning that a man was after him; you had no doubt that Dean would win this fight, so you turned your attention to waking Sam up—he was your only chance at bringing Dean home.

“Sammy, come on,” you urged. He only stirred once Dean and the other man were finished their fight—Dean won, but he didn’t kill the other man, to your surprise.

“Just stay here,” Sam instructed, shaking off his headache as he stood, demon cuffs held with his injured arm—you wondered suddenly how he’d been hurt—and holy water in the other hand.

You stayed back as Sam approached Dean from behind. It was over in mere seconds—Dean, distracted by the holy water, was unable to fight off the cuffs that Sam slapped on him.

“Dean, stop! It’s over.”

…

You got into the passenger’s seat after Sam ushered Dean into the back. Sam was outside, passing off the First Blade to Crowley.

“You picked the wrong side,” Dean said, and the sound of his voice made you flinch.

“Says the one in the handcuffs,” you shot back, but your voice was much too shaky for Dean to take seriously.

“Oh, this won’t last,” Dean said, lifting his hands. “And once these come off, you’re going to regret using those powers on me.”

…

You breathed easier when Sam returned to the Impala, and the three of you were off. Sam and Dean were arguing about Dean’s fight with that man, Cole. Sam was convinced that because Dean let him live, there was still some good in him.

“Letting him live was the worst thing I could’ve done to him,” Dean chuckled. “And that’s nothing compared to what I’m going to you.” Sam swallowed nervously, but Dean continued. “Or to our little sister.” You nearly jumped out of your seat when Dean kicked it.

“Stop it,” Sam demanded. “She…she didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, she picked her side,” Dean insisted. “And she picked wrong.”

…

You were shaking by the time the Impala reached the bunker. Sam kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, recognizing the symptoms; you needed more blood.

“Stay here,” he instructed as he stepped out to get Dean. “I’m gonna get him settled downstairs and I’ll come back for you.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later Sam returned and led you to your room.

“You know what I have to do, right?” He asked gently. You nodded.

“Tie me down and lock me up, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I don’t want to, but—“

“But there’s a demon in the bunker, and I’m about to go through extreme withdrawals,” you finished. “I-I know Sam. It’s not your fault.” Your gaze was glued to your fidgeting hands.

“Hey, look at me.” When you met his gaze, Sam continued. “It’s not your fault either. I know you didn’t want it.”

“I started to.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Af-after a while, I started to want it. The power…all of it.”

“It’s ok.” Sam pulled you close, and his embrace made you feel more at home than you had in weeks. “I know how that feels, but we’re gonna fix it. I’m gonna be right here.”

When he pulled away, you took a deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

…

You were wrong. Dead wrong, and so was Sam. Sam was killing you, you were sure of it.

Of course, that was the withdrawal talking, but you were too far deep in your pain to know that. All you knew was that you’d never hurt this much in your life, and the way to make the pain go away was right downstairs, but Sam wouldn’t let you near it.

“I need Dean,” you cried for the thousandth time. “Sammy, please!” You were in too much pain to even notice that Sam wasn’t there, and he hadn’t been in to check on you in a while. In fact, you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the door opening, and the very person you were begging for walking in.

“I told you you picked the wrong side,” Dean chuckled, his voice grabbing your attention.

“Dean,” you whimpered, in too much pain to be scared or curious that he’d gotten out. “Dean, please.”

“You know—“ Dean sighed as he began to undo the straps holding your legs. “You talk too much.” Once both your legs were free, Dean made his way near your head. You swallowed hard as Dean picked up a knife that you’d left on your dresser. “So I think I’ve found the perfect punishment for you. I mean, you did use your powers on me. Did you think I was just going to forget that?”

“P-punishment?” You asked nervously.

“Yeah,” Dean glared down at you, his eyes flashing black. “First, I’m gonna cut off your tongue. Then, I’m gonna give you so much blood, that you won’t be able to think straight. Then you’re gonna help me kill Sammy, then Crowley. And if you ever disobey me again, I’ll slit your throat.” Dean grinned. “How’s that for a little brotherly love?”

Dean’s knife was inching closer to your mouth, his other hand gripping your face to keep you still, when the lights went out. Dean released you, and a tense silence filled the bunker for a moment or two before the emergency lights clicked on, red light casting an eery glow throughout your room.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Dean said to you. “Now that I know where Sammy is, you can wait; after all, you’re not going anywhere.”

All you could do was watch as Dean turned and walked out, intent on killing your brother.

…

You were struggling against the restraints to no avail when Sam came bursting into the room.

“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded, alarmed when you suddenly burst into tears.

“I-I thought he was gonna kill you,” you cried.

“It’s ok, I’m ok,” Sam assured you as he started to undo you restraints.

“Don’t!” You insisted. “I’m…I don’t think I’m clean yet.”

Sam halted his movements, his eyes trained on your face.

“He didn’t hurt you?” Sam asked.

“He didn’t get the chance.” You sniffled. “W…where is he?”

“Chained up again,” Sam sighed. “Cas is watching him. I think…I think maybe he’s almost human now.”

“Go to him,” you insisted. “I’ll be ok here until I’m clean, really.” Somehow, Dean’s threats had strengthened your resolve to stay away from demon blood. “Go bring our Dean back.”

…

“I want to see her.”

Sam was adamant. “You can’t, not yet.”

Dean sighed, rubbing his newly-freed hands over his face.

“Why not?”

Before Sam could answer, a cry of pain could be heard from your room. Sam cringed.

“She…she’s still in detox. She could go nuts if she sees you, even though you’re not a demon anymore. We can’t take that chance.”

Dean didn’t argue; he knew Sam was right. Still, the next two days were complete torture as he was forced to stay away from you, listening to your pleas for him. Every time you called out his name was a reminder that it was Dean’s fault that you were hurting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering over and over under his breath every time you cried out; he was desperate to tell you in person.

After those awful two days, the screaming stopped. Dean was already halfway to your room when he was stopped by Sam.

“She’s ok,” Sam insisted. “I think she’s clean. I just took her restraints off.”

“Ok,” Dean said simply, trying to move past Sam and toward your door. Sam moved in front of him.

“She’s sleeping. She needs it.”

Dean deflated, discouraged.

“What is this, Sam? Are you really trying to help her, or do you just not trust me?” He knew he was being unfair, but he had to know.

“It’s not about you,” Sam assured him, clearly pushing away his hurt at Dean’s implication. “She needs rest. Besides, I…I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing you again, and I don’t want to push her faster than I need to.”

Dean was silent for a long moment, before finally asking the question that had been nagging at him for days.

“Do you think she hates me?”

Sam looked pained, as if he had expected the question.

“Right now I…I almost wish she did,” Sam said. “Because I think she hates herself more than anything.”

…

You’d been awake for about twenty minutes, but you hadn’t moved. At least, your body hadn’t moved; your mind was going at a breakneck speed. You remembered briefly that Sam had said Dean was cured, but you couldn’t be sure if you’d imagined it in your withdrawal fog. You were pretty sure that most of yesterday had been a hallucination. Sam had insisted that he wouldn’t let Dean in, yet there he had been, jeering at you, saying again and again that the second you were clean, you’d be useless again.

You knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. But the hallucination had been right anyway.

The sound of the door opening had your head turning, but your mind still hadn’t left its dark corner.

“Hey,” Sam greeted, and even though the door was only open a little, you could see Dean standing behind him. That only lasted for a moment before Sam squeezed himself into your room and shut the door behind him. “How are you?”

“He doesn’t want to see me?” Your eyes remained glued to the door where Dean had been standing, even as you sat up.

“What?” Sam frowned. “Of course he does, I just…I wanted to check with you first. Are you gonna be ok to see him?”

You nodded. “If…” you were suddenly nervous at the thought of seeing Dean after everything. “If he wants to.”

“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

Shame bubbled up in you as you thought about the past few weeks, and you ducked your head, unwilling to answer Sam’s question. He didn’t push it; instead, he turned to go, leaving the door open so that Dean could take his place.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted gently, and you heard rather than felt your breath pick up at the sound of his voice. You kept your eyes downcast.

What did Dean think of you? You remembered how disappointed and angry he had been with Sam when Sam had gotten hooked on demon blood. Would Dean hate you now? Would he finally see you as the burden you’d always been, now that you didn’t have powers anymore?

“Sweetheart, would you look at me?” When your eyes met his, you saw not anger or disappointment, but sadness. That was too much for you. The tears came suddenly and soundlessly. “Oh, kiddo…” Dean sighed, reaching his hands out to comfort you. However, you’d spent too much time with the rough, angry demon Dean to see comfort in his hands. When you flinched back, Dean stopped immediately, returning his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry, I…” Dean’s voice cracked. “I didn’t come here to scare you, I just wanted to apologize. I know that doesn’t make up for what I did, but…but I wanted you to know.”

You looked up suddenly, not surprised but doubtful. You’d expected an apology from Dean, but you hadn’t expected it to sound quite so sincere; you’d expected underlying disappointment at least.

“You…” you swallowed. “You’re not upset with me?”

“With you?” Dean was confused. “Why would I be upset with you?”

You ducked your head as the tears returned.

“I-I was weak,” you choked out. “I’m still weak.”

“Hey, hey.” Dean tilted your chin up with his fingers, his hands as gentle as could be on your skin. “None of this—not one bit—was your fault. I did this to you, and I don’t blame you, not for a second. Understand?”

You were shaking your head.

“I-I should’ve—“

“There was nothing you coulda done to stop me,” Dean said, self-loathing lacing his every word. “And I know how impossible it is to stop on your own after you’ve started, I’d never blame you for getting addicted.”

You stayed silent as you processed his words. Once you had, you felt the need to speak again.

“I don’t blame you either,” you insisted. “You weren’t the same—demon you. It wasn’t anything like you, it wasn’t your fault.”

Dean looked dubious, but he also didn’t bother to argue. Comfortable silence reigned for several minutes before he spoke again.

“How do you feel?”

“Starving,” you answered honestly, to which Dean smiled.

“You wanna take a little trip? You and me, I’ll take you to get some food.”

The idea of Dean bundling you into the Impala and driving off—without Sam nonetheless—had terror gripping your heart, accelerating its pace. You didn’t blame Dean for what he’d done, but the memories were still all too fresh.

“Or,” Dean countered, instantly noting your panicked expression. “Or I could go and get something to bring back, and you, me, and Sammy could have a movie night?”

You nodded—that sounded perfect. Dean was just turning to go when you stopped him.

“Dean? Does…is there any part of you that wishes I’d stayed that way?”

“What way?” Dean’s brows drew together, whether in concern or confusion you couldn’t tell. “You mean, addicted to demon blood?”

“I just mean…” you struggled to force the words out. “I mean…useful.”

Deans face fell, and you regretted asking.

“What?”

“I-I mean, I don’t really do anything around here. At least then, I—“

“Stop.” You weren’t sure if it was the seriousness of his tone, or the fact that you’d spent the last few weeks obeying his every word, but you shut up immediately when Dean spoke. “I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Dean said slowly and deliberately, and again you stayed obediently silent. “Nothing about what I did to you was good, ok? And you are not useless. Actually,” Dean waved his hand in front of his face dismissively. “Forget about use. Sam was right, you’re not some tool, ok? You’re important to us, and not because of what you can do. But even if it was about that, you do so much for us. You’ve been with me and Sammy through everything, and that matters way more than you moving stuff with your mind, ok?”

Despite the tears that were still falling, you felt a smile tug at your lips.

“Ok, Dean.”

“Ok,” Dean said with a firm nod. “Go find Sam, and I’ll head out for food.”

You stood almost mechanically and headed for the door without a word. Dean recognized your stance with a silent horror.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was shaky as he reached out and grabbed your hand. “That…it wasn’t an order, ok? I’m not making you do anything, I—“

“I know,” you interrupted, understanding his horror. “It’s just…habit, I-I guess. Shut up and obey, you know?” You wished you hadn’t added that last part when you saw Dean stiffen ever so slightly, swallowing hard.

“I’m so—“

“Don’t apologize again,” you pleaded. “I forgive you, ok? I-I guess I just need to unlearn some things.”

Dean nodded, but you could tell he was still beating himself up inside. You took two strides and reached him, pulling him into an embrace. His arms enveloped you entirely, and you realized that you’d forgotten how much you missed him.

“Tell me if I can help with that, ok?” He said.

“Ok,” you promised. “Now go get me some food, I’m starving.”

Dean’s chest rumbled next to your ear as he chuckled.

“Yes ma’am.”

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rubyvhs · 3 months ago

Text

remedy (iv) — sam winchester

> prev , series masterlist

summary: maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to go back to sam’s place. or maybe it’s a good thing you did — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, mentioned praying, canon divergence.

There’s a man, a very beautiful one, sure, standing in Sam’s apartment. His eyes are hungry as they glide over you. His… eyes. That seem way too similar to those the man next to you owns yet so different. His are a bright green for one, you’re scared to stare too long in them incase they grow trees. Cliche? Doesn’t matter, it’s the truth, they’re so green.

You can’t hear what’s going on, but him and Sam seem to have a full on conversation with no words. Maybe the other guy won because he takes the step forward as Sam sighs and shuts the apartment door behind you guys. You keep your hand close to your purse and you can feel it vibrate vigorously, you’re sure it’s Jess wanting information on what the fuck you’re doing at Sam’s house— which great question, what are you doing here?

Cause you were thinking talk, eat, make out, not particularly in that order. Now it seems ‘talk to random guy while you try not to have a panic attack’ has been added to the list. Well, too bad, the list is exclusive. “Now who are you?”

Sam says your name through gritted teeth, “this is my brother Dean.” You swallow your fear and nod once. Introducing yourself despite Sam having done it a second before. “What are you doing here, man?” Sam walks away from the door to throw his car keys onto the counter, a few feet away from you, closer to Dean.

“Doesn’t matter now, seems like you’re busy,” and he’s actually smirking. At you. Why is it kind of attractive— no, focus! Focus on your surroundings, and count to ten so you don’t explode. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of taking him away from you, sweetheart.” Dean says so sweetly that you actually believe it’s for your own benefit, he’s closer now, both hands hovering over your arms but not exactly touching which you’re grateful for.

You smile tightly and look up at Sam in a silent call for help. “Why are you here, Dean?” He repeats sternly and crosses his arms at his brother. You’ve always noticed how small Sam makes himself when he’s talking to other people, mostly girls, like he doesn’t want to overpower them when he easily could, it helps calm you down, for sure, but when he’s doing it with his brother, it’s different.

It’s out of love, devotion, trust. And it’s scary to see because you feel like you’re watching a scene that’s not yours to analyze. But he’s letting you. Dean winks at you once before turning around to face Sam.

“Let’s talk. Privately.” Dean clicks his tongue in the direction of Sam’s room and he agrees, moving over to you again, putting both hands on your shoulder. It has the opposite effect that dean’s had on you. It’s calming— sedating.

“You stay in my room, I’ll come get you.” And then he steals glances around your whole face, like he’s studying your features, “do you wanna leave? I can drive you home.”

You open your mouth to protest before shutting it again. Does that mean he wants you to leave? Is it an indirect un-invitation? He looks sincere though. “I’m askin’ ‘cause I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Nothing else.”

You take a breath before shaking your head, then decide to use your voice like the big girl you are— because otherwise you’re a toddler, scared by her fathers side at the mall. “Yeah, I’ll stay in your room. But if you want me to leave, Sam—.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He gives you a half smile but it’s enough to melt your insides. “You can use whatever you want in there, and the Wi-FI’s password is written on the wall.” You all but run into his room and away from the two brothers, shutting the door with a loud slam.

This is super normal and not at all worrying. You should text your mum in case it’s the last time. Hold that thought— Jessica first.

As promised, the password is on the door, written in a paper stuck on the back of it. You put it in then text Jess back.

Jess: What is happening!!!!

Jess: What’s happened to ‘never gonna happen’.

Jess: Are you fucking? Don’t tell me.

Jess: Don’t fuck him!!!! He could be not single.

What. The. Hell.

You: What?

Jess: Thank fuck. You’re not having sex, right? Or did he finish already? Jess: He used to be better at it.

You: What do you mean he’s not single?

Jess: Not saying he isn’t but Gen says he’s been talking to some girls, it’s why she was worried about you going out.

Jess: We don’t know if he’s just friends with these girls or not but she says he’s been texting + going out with Lily.

You: Oh but they’re project partners.

Jess: Yeah they just got assigned today. They’ve been going out alone for a few weeks now.

You: Before or after the party?

Jess: Since before. They didn’t stop after the party either.

God, you’re going to be sick. Great so he’s dropping off the face of the earth with his brother, but before he does that he’s breaking your heart. ‘Cause why the fuck do one when you can do both?

And the worst part is you have no reason to be upset about any of this. He doesn’t owe you an explanation about Lily or Dean or whether or not he’s taking the semester off or if he’s staying after graduation— it’s all a lot. You thought this would be the beginning of something. Something worthwhile, and he was having fun, just passing the time.

You enter the bathroom to make sure your makeup is still intact. It isn’t, but you did it up quite quickly and have enough time to snoop around. You can cry over a man when you’re alone in the comfort of your room, not his. Even the room is so perfectly him. There’s pictures almost everywhere and you remember hearing him or Jess mention how much he’s into photography, took after his mother. He’s in only two of the pictures.

One of them has Dean and an older man you assume is their father. The other is him and Jess, back from when they’re dating— other than that it’s mostly scenery and his friends. There’s even one of Jess and Gen with your best friend laying her head on Gen’s lap.

You’re about to ruffle through the desk when you hear rustling and a loud groan from one of the boys. Then another and— oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck, are they fighting?

When you’re mother first equipped you for America she had two rules:

Don’t speak to strangers.

Hold rocks in your purse to hit said stranger if they want to fight.

That’s really all, and you’ve held up your end of the deal. But she never really told you what to do when the stranger isn’t a stranger and you’re actually in their house and he’s fighting his brother.

You peek through the window and— nope, you’re on the third floor. Too far away to jump. Maybe you should try to rummage around here for a cigarette? Yeah, that’s a good idea. You desperately go through drawers without actually going through them— you don’t want to invade his privacy, just find the damn pack you know he has around here— oh, a disposable. Okay, pOtato, potAto.

You take a second to pray that it’s not dead before taking a drag and, thank God, blueberry. Huh, seems like Sam has a preference. Maybe he asked Jess to bring blueberry cigarettes last time, now that would be a turn of events. And it would also mean he lied to you, how are you supposed to feel about that? About the same way you feel about him hanging out with Lily? He never mentioned it. And back at the mall he said ‘I don’t wanna leave you’, what, did he say that to Lily too? Is he trying out to become an anchor?

You take three more drags before the door is thrown off its hinges and Sam stomps right through it and into his bathroom. Oh. He doesn’t even spare you a glance and you find yourself looking for dean. He’s right there, breathing just as heavily as Sam was, but that didn’t stop him from sending another wink your way, a little slow and lazy.

For the first time in your life, you decide to muster up enough courage to walk over to him, offering his brother’s vape to him. Look at that, your mother did teach you manners.

He shakes his head and takes a step back to lean on the kitchen counter. The support is welcomed by his whole body as he almost collapses into it. “We didn’t scare you, did we?”

Fuck yeah, you’re scared. Who does this dude think he’s talking to? An FBI agent? You’re a college girl studying Med, hearing police sirens while you’re walking at night creep you out.

But you shake your head anyways because, again, manners. “Are you okay?” You ask with genuine concern. You step a little closer to examine the bruise on his head, right below his hairline.

Does that mean that Sam had a matching one? Should you go help him?

“Sam’s fine.” Oh. That’s good.

“But you’re not. Do you know where he keeps his first aid kit? I can clean it up for you.” Dean adamantly shakes his head, making you frown. Wasn’t he hitting on you minutes ago? Now he doesn’t wanna touch you? “Dean, are you sure? You should really clean that up. It might get infected.” Highly unlikely but it’s not good to keep it unsterile anyways.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, but it’s not as harsh as you expect. He’s just overwhelmed, maybe, or angry. At himself? At Sam? At you for intruding? And then he sighs, takes an incredibly deep breath like it’s taking everything in his soul and mind to say, “‘fine, yeah, you can do it.” As if you offered to blow him or something. Grow up, man, you were just trying to help.

Again, manners. So you keep your polite tone as you ask him again for the first aid kit and he says this is his first time here. Great, you’re both strangers in Sam’s home but at least one of you was invited, Dean.

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” He says quietly as you keep opening and shutting drawers. Sam’s a responsible guy, he must have something lying around.

“I don’t not like you. I just don’t know you. And Sam is my friend who you just beat up so I’m not exactly fond of you at the moment, no.” Honesty’s great. Yeah, give it right to the man who’s a couple inches taller than you and packing on more muscle than you can imagine yourself having if you workout for ten years straight. Smart ideas all around, really.

You take another longer drag this time. The buzz is worth it, it’s helping you relax enough that you’re not about to blow your head off about being in Sam’s house with Dean.

Another hit: from both the vape and Dean, “He hit me first.”

“Did you provoke him?” Dean shrugs like a child trying to feign innocence. It’s obvious this is all Dean’s fault and he knows it, you just wish you knew the reason. “Why, though? What happened?”

He hesitates then shuts his mouth closed. Now he chooses to be a good brother?

You find the first aid kit under all the drawers (which, fuck you, Sam, why would you do that?) and ask Dean to sit on one of the chairs. He obeys and you start to take out the rubbing alcohol, “this part will sting a little, so try to hold on to something— not me!” You shriek when his hands land on your waist.

“Closest thing,” he shrugs like it’s nothing and you take a deep breath, applying more alcohol to the cotton. He can take it.

He doesn’t groan out when you pat the cotton onto the small wound, just hisses. The man hisses like he just got cold coffee spilled on him, the wound isn’t massive or anything, but really? How high is someone’s pain tolerance to be able to do that?

You don’t want to think about it because tolerance is built. And that’s just… not a fun thing to ponder on. You try to finish as quickly as possible and half way through his hands on your waist don’t bother you anymore, a minute after, he eases them off. Dean doesn’t seem like he wants to cause issues, he’s just… troubled. Though you’re sure he’d deck you twice as hard as he did to Sam if you mention that.

Speaking of the devil, he’s out of the bathroom with fresh clothes but it’s apparent he didn’t shower. Just in his home clothes. Cute considering you’re not which means you’re overdressed between the three of you. You finish Dean up and place a bandage on the bruise. “There!”

You smile as you examine your work and move back. Your first ever patient! It’s exciting to think you did so well without any guidance even when your hand was shaking the whole time. “Thanks, angel, where’d you learn that?”

“Angel?”

“She’s in Med. What are you still doing here, Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough, like he’s been shouting. Were they yelling? How did you not hear them?

Oh, the buzz. Would giving Sam the Dispo now be rude? Come to think of it, taking it was rude. Oh, God, is this what stealing feels like?

“Hey,” Sam calls your name and you snap out of it, whipping your head back to face him. “You okay?” He’s wearing a black shirt. Just plain black, which is tight in all the right places, and grey sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Who on this earth sold this man grey sweatpants? What were they thinking? They weren’t obviously, but you are. You can see it clearly now: College Girls Drop Dead At The Hand Of A Sam Winchester. Reason Of Death: The Sweatpants.

“You okay?” Why is he asking again? Were you staring?

“I’m fine. Are you?” You walk away from Dean and his magnetic hold on you to check Sam out. Last time you touched him was— never. He’s always touched you first. So… here goes nothing. You had your hands up for a second, asking for permission, consent, whatever, and his gaze switches from your eyes to your lips then back again so you take it as a yes and move his hair from his face.

There are no injuries, you’re sure of it, but maybe you should run your hands through his hair just in case. For his safety. You drop your hands like it’s on fire before you actually do it and smile up at him. “Good, you’re okay.” He nods and looks past you, probably at Dean and you sigh. Okay. Night ruined.

“Okay, so, I’m gonna go and I’ll see you—” Sam furrows his eyes brows and shakes his head placing his hands on your shoulders. Again.

“No, no, you said you stay. We agreed to it.”

“Right, but that was before I knew your brother was staying over—”

“He’s not. You can still take Gen’s room. Don’t worry. He’s just leaving, right, Dean?” He bites out and your eyes widen.

“No, no, Sam, seriously, not a big deal—”

“Do you wanna leave?” How is that relevant! You don’t, honestly. After hearing what Jess had to say about Sam and now Dean’s beat up face, Sam wanting to leave, it’s a lot to process. And you were fine with processing it next to Sam as long as you guys could talk about it but he seems on edge now, erratic, you don’t want to mess with him, or stay in a house alone with him when he’s like this.

He doesn’t seem like he’ll hurt you, infact, his face softens the second he looks at you, but you can’t risk it. “Sam, it’s not that I don’t want to…” He raises his eyebrows for a second before scoffing letting go of you. “It’s not… it just seems like there’s a lot for you right now, I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

“I want you in the middle of it.” Is someone escorting Dean out or will you have to confess your feelings in the middle of the crowded kitchen/living room? “But if you want to leave then I’ll drive you, it’s fine. I just need you to know that I want you to stay.”

And with those eyes? Those eyes and that hair falling over those eyes? How can you say no? You let out a shaky breath before throwing yourself into his chest and he easily wraps his arms around you. This is probably the second time you’ve hugged ever, but it’s worth every second because Sam’s so much taller than you in a way that’s comforting beyond belief. Not just because he tries to make himself smaller, but because he carries himself that way too. Small equals ‘there for you’ and ‘your wall’. And he kind of is. His arms are solid against you back and you feel a strand of your hair get caught in between his fingers.

It doesn’t take a few seconds for you to pull away— both out of respect for Dean and because you don’t want to overdo it with Sam. “I’ll stay. In Gen’s room.” He nods like it’s the end of it but you add, “If you promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t kick me out.” He frowns. You take out the vape from your back pocket, “I found it in your drawer. Sorry.” He smiles and leans down to your ears, “what’s mine’s yours, sweetheart.” He’s saying it to be kind, whatever, but it still makes your heart flutter to hear.

He points to the room behind his, the only other door in the apartment, says it’s Gen’s room and that the sheets are clean. Which translates to: ‘go inside and I’ll get rid of Dean’.

True to his unspoken words, Dean is gone in less than fifteen minutes and you’re kind of disappointed you didn’t say goodbye. Sam comes into the room to find you on the bed, vape in one hand, phone in the other, texting.

“What’re you doing?” He shuts the door behind him and your eyes skim your surroundings. Alone in a room with Sam.

“Texting. Jess. She’s been worried the whole night and I didn’t want her to freak out.”

“Oh, why’d she be freaked?” Fuck your brain and your oversharing tendencies and fuck you Sam for being obversant.

“Just— you know—”

“I don’t.” Well, duh, or else you wouldn’t ask, but the answer isn’t one you’re willing to give so you shrug and lean into the bed further, still above the sheets. You can’t believe you’re sleeping in jeans just to stay over at Sam’s. The things you do on low sleep, man. “Are you comfortable?” At least he isn’t a dick that insists on your answer.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you’re wearing jeans.”

“That’s what I came with, yes.”

“Do you wanna change? I can get you something else to wear? Besides, aren't you cold?” He’s right, the only thing that was keeping you warm was the green jacket you had on which was discarded on the chair, leaving you in a tank top. You’re cold, sure, a little uncomfortable, maybe, but enough to take Sam’s clothes… yes, you’d take them even if you weren’t freezing your ass off.

“What do you have?” You smile a little before he points to Gen’s closet and oh. Right. The other girl that lives here. “Sam, no it’s fine, I don’t want to intrude on Gen.” Rummaging through Sam’s thing while he’s in the room next to you is fine, using Gen’s clothes while she’s in another house? Not respectful.

“She wouldn’t mind—”

“Honestly, I’m not that cold.”

“You’re shivering.” Not to sound like a three year old or anything but someone could practically blow on you and you’d shiver. It's not that serious. But when you tell him that he shakes his head and walks out of the door. Is he pissed off? Like actually genuinely pissed off? Should you look through Gen’s closet for something to wear so he’d be okay? That seems wrong but… it’s his house, his rules.

You’re still heavily overthinking it by the time he comes back and you let out a breath of pure relief. He can’t be that mad if he’s back. And he’s handing you clothes. “Here, mine. So your moral obligations can rest.” You smile and shake your head, getting out of the bed. His hand’s extended so you take it anyways.

“Sam, I’m fine like this—”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans, and you can’t convince me to.” You notice his dimples for the first time. Sam is all smiles whenever he’s around people, but you’ve never actually noticed his dimples before, and they’re just as perfect as the rest of him that you’re jealous. And in love, just a little.

“Sam,” you call out as he turns to walk out. He knows what’s coming. You know what’s coming. Your sister knows what’s coming (you found time to fill her in). “What happened with Dean out there? I thought you said he’d want you to leave. Didn’t you want to go with him?”

His shoulders deflate and he turns around. “It’s nothing, just got rough.”

“Meaning? Come on, he was the whole reason we went out tonight then you find him at your house and you’re not freaked? Tell me what happened.” Pushy is one word to call what you’re doing. Another is fucking annoying. You won’t even say the third.

“Dean’s— Dad. Our Dad is… he’s gone or he’s hiding or something and Dean wants me to look for him.” His dad is lost… as an exterminator? Okay…

“Why aren’t you guys freaked out?”

“Because he’s usually just takin’ a break from Dean or something but Dean says he’s sure that he’s actually gone missing—”

“Then call the police.” You say obviously and Sam purses his lips. He’s not irritated, but he looks like he doesn’t want to explain the situation to you so you back off. “I’m going to change.” You say as you head for the bathroom door, “but look, Sam, talk to me, okay? If you want. Or Lily or Jess but talk—”

“Lily?” He interrupts with a scowl, a hand coming up to tame his slightly messed up hair.

“Yeah, you know, your friends.”

“Me and Lily aren’t like… friends friends.”

“I don’t know, people say otherwise,” okay now he’s irritated, “but anyways, none of my business obviously, I’m going to change.”

“Hey, stop doing that. Stop avoiding something the second you say it! Why would you bring up Lily?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and shrug, the clothes suddenly feeling twenty kilograms heavier in your hand. “Jess said you guys have been going out for a while now. Which, you know, I don’t know how she’d feel about me staying over—”

“I told you she’s my presentation partner.” His voice isn’t raised, just seems like he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from and you sound like you don’t want to be having this conversation. Because you don’t.

“Yeah, but Jess said you’ve been hanging out even before Lily’s birthday party and I just didn’t want to assume or anything, I guess.” He steps closer to you and you contemplate taking a step back but he’s already close enough to touch you now. He takes the clothes in your hands and placed them on the chair next to him. “Sam, it’s fine, obviously, I just don’t want her to be mad.”

“I’m not with Lily, and we’re not dating or anything. We study together sometimes, we’re friends and she’s cool but we’re just that. Friends.” You nod and take a step back to help you breathe better, “I’m not just saying that. We are.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t want you thinking that I like anyone that way,” he says the last word as he moves towards you. You’re trapped between his body and the bathroom door behind you.

“Like a relationship?” He nods and you consider asking if he thinks of you like that but you couldn’t handle the rejection if you tried.

You turn the knob around and slam the fucking door in Sam’s face.

part five; smear the innocence of my lips.

title: beautiful boy by esha tewari

main masterlist

have no idea how I finished this in one sitting. 4k worlds in one sitting is my new record. hope you guys liked this one, I like where it’s going right now but I’m racking my brain for an ending soon if you have ideas tell me.

and if you wanna be tagged for future chapters, comment!

Tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #sam winchester #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #sammy #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #laila writes!!#remedy

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lostgirl677 · 1 year ago

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Baking? Piece of pie...or not

One-shot

Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

TWF x Fem!Reader

A/N: I bake a lot lately and it gave me this idea. It's a bit silly but I truly enjoyed writing it.

This morning, I decided to wake up earlier to prepare a pie for the brothers. Well, it was much more for Dean but still. There wasn’t any special occasion. I just wanted to do something nice for them. We all had a rough week with the last hunt. I knew that I had a chance to cheer them up with a nice dessert. Nothing fancy, just a simple apple pie. But I knew that the gesture would mean a lot to them.

I got out of my room as quietly as I could so as to not wake anyone. As I tiptoed to the kitchen, I tried to remember, without looking at the paper, all the steps of the recipe my mother used when I was younger. Once in the kitchen, I directly went to check that I had all the ingredients needed for the pie. Everything was here, ready to work the miracle of the glorious pie. As I placed everything on the table, I managed to make one of the mixing bowls fall loudly on the floor.“ Son of a bitch” I swore under my breath at my own clumsiness. I truly spend too much time with Dean, for sure. I just hoped that my clumsiness wouldn’t get in the way the whole time.

Once I was done with the crust preparation, I checked the clock. It was almost 7 AM. Given the time, I knew that I had at least another thirty minutes to myself before one of the brothers got up. It was now time to slice the apples. Cutting them was always one of the worst parts for me because I always managed to hurt myself. I know, it’s weird for an experienced hunter. The amount of apple pieces was so big that I couldn’t even imagine how it was supposed to fit in the pie plate. But at least it would be a very generous pie. To Dean’s joy, I guess.

I suddenly realized that I forgot one of the steps my mother used to do. I wanted to check the piece of paper but finally remembered that I left it on my nightstand. I now had to go back to my room. I sighed loudly, looked at the mess I caused with the flour, apple peels, sugar everywhere, knowing that I’ll have to clean while the pie cooked. I checked the clock one more time. It was almost 8 AM. I wanted to be done by 9 AM but if I kept messing things up, it would take longer than that. Maybe until lunch at this rate.

As I remembered, the recipe was on my nightstand. Exactly where I could see it when I woke up. What an idjit! I hurried back to the kitchen but what I saw almost made me scream. Almost all the apple pieces were gone. What the hell?! But maybe I wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Maybe a certain blond hunter decided to pay a visit while I wasn’t there? tried to look in all the most obvious places: under the table, behind the door… He was nowhere to be seen. Then, I decided to catch him red handed by pretending to go out of the kitchen.

As I hid in the corridor, I heard a bit of commotion and snapped my head by the door. There he was, with his mouth full. I finally caught the food thief. He was there, smiling like an idiot. “Dean! Stop stealing the pie ingredients!” His smile grew even bigger. “Hey! It’s not my fault. It was here unattended.” He chuckled and I couldn’t help but melt at this. “You’re worse than a raccoon. I knew it was you when I saw that half of the apple pieces were gone.” “Hey! How come you knew it was me and not Sam?” He said while faking hurt. I just looked at him with one eyebrow raised. He sighed “Alright. But you weren’t even able to spot me.” He said smugly. “Okay. I must admit that you did great at hiding. Where were you by the way?” He tried the Blue Steel look on me while saying “Well, I’m Batman, sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes. “And I won’t tell you about my hiding place. How will I steal food next time?”.While saying this, he stole another handful of apple pieces. “Dean!” As if he defied me, he looked at me in the eyes and threw the stolen apples in his mouth. He will be the death of me. “You’re lucky I love you.” “I know.” He said, imitating Han Solo’s voice and snaking his hand toward the apples.I smacked his hand. ”Don’t push your luck, Winchester.”

I then had to cut more apples. While Dean was sitting on the table, telling me stupid jokes. He was at a good distance from the apples but I knew that one second of inattention and he would dive in the bowl of apples. Then went the moment where I had to take one more apple from the counter behind me. As I walked away from the table, I could see him watching my every move. “Dean, if you just do so much as moving a finger, I promise to make your life a real nightmare.” I just heard him chuckling.

As I cut the apple, the knife slipped and cut my finger. “Goddamn it!” I screamed. Dean jumped off of the table and came by my side. “You okay?” I showed him my finger and said “Yeah, it’s just a cut. I’ll grab a paper towel and it will be okay.” He got it for me, wrapped my finger in it and said”I don’t understand how you can handle the worst monster all by yourself and still cut your finger while slicing an apple.” I slipped my hand out of his and said. “Oh shut your cakehole. It’s not my fault that I am better with a machete than a simple kitchen knife. Plus it wouldn’t have happened if someone didn’ t eat the vast majority of the apples I had already prepared.” I was about to throw flour on him but he dodged and Sam who just arrived behind him received it right in the face. His deadpan expression was priceless. He had flour all over him. Dean burst into laughter and Sam grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at him.

Cas appeared at the moment flour touched Dean’s face. “Hello.” He said in a deep voice. He looked at us with a confused face and asked “Is throwing cooking powder a normal step in the human cooking process?” We all looked at each other and laughed. It made us laugh even more when Cas took flour in his hand and spread it on his face. The serious expression he had during the whole process was gold. He approached me and said “May I?” I just nodded. He thoroughly spread flour on my face. “Now we can cook.” He said once he was done.

In the end they all helped me. It was almost time to put the pie in the oven but I had to do one last thing. “Time for my secret ingredient.” I announced. “What is it?” Asked Sam, visibly curious. I tried to hide the label that spelled cinnamon while pouring it on my preparation. “Is it some aphrodisiac? You know that we don’t need that.” said Dean suggestively while trying to steal it from me. “Stop being a dork and let me do my thing.” Once the pie was in the oven, we began to clean everything.

As I took the pie out, I saw that Dean was about to jump on it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” “Come on, I’m a tough hunter who's been in Hell. I don’t fear getting… Argh!” he screamed as he burned his hand on the plate. “I told you, tough hunter. Now put your hand under the faucet.” I said with a small smile. He swallowed his pride and did as I told him.

The pie was finally ready for lunch. They were all waiting for me at the table when I brought the pie we all made. They all looked amazed at the dessert we made together. I saw how eager they all looked at the sight of the pie. So I served everyone and we began to eat it. The expression on their faces made me understand that it was good. “God, Y/N. What kind of sorcery is this?” asked Dean, with his mouth full of pie. Castiel spoke before I could. “It has nothing to do with the practice of witchcraft, Dean.” We all laughed.“Are you sure? Maybe Y/N is a witch?” He seemed to think and said “It is a possibility, indeed. When was your last ritual, Y/N?” I then replied playfully. “When you all arrived. The magic happened at that moment.” Dean threw me a loving look. Then Sam decided to ask “What is that secret ingredient of yours?” “Well, Sam, I can’t tell.It wouldn't be a secret anymore if I told you”. I said while trying to have a mysterious expression on my face. Cas swallowed another bite of pie and decided to intervene ”I don't understand how the secret ingredient is supposed to be a secret if you can feel all the molecules contained in cinnamon.” He said that very calmly. “Cas! You just exposed my most well guarded secret.” I said in fake indignation. “I’m sorry, Y/N” He seemed a bit confused when I finally laughed and patted his shoulder.

“Next time you’re baking, I’ll make sure to come here to participate. It was very entertaining” said Cas. “Aw! I’ll make you an angel cake next time.” I said while hugging him. He seemed a bit confused. “Is it a cake made for an angel to eat or a reference to celestial food? Because angels do not need to feed.” “ It will be a cake for an angel in a trenchcoat .” Dean approached to kiss me on the lips and said “Thank you for the pie. It was amazing. If I were alone, I would've eaten it entirely. And Sammy always gets upset when I steal his food.” “But you always steal my food!” replied Sam.

If I ended up in Heaven, I knew that this day would be the one I’d relive for eternity.

@hobby27 @muhahaha303

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winchestersdrive · 2 months ago

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Dean Winchester- One Shot

TW‼️- this post will mention; abuse, alcoholism, fighting, cursing and parental neglect

Dean lie awake in bed as tears streamed down his face. He felt like a failure. He messed up as a brother to Sam and a son to John. Though John had always told him he was a failure, it still bothered him deeply. He was never allowed to show his emotions in front of his father because it wasn’t “manly”. Nothing was ever good enough for him. He couldn’t be a child anymore, he had to grow up and take care of Sam. He was there for Sam, not John, HIM.

Dean was there for Sam whenever he needed his big brother. He had to be not only his brother, but also his mother and his father. He attended parent teacher conferences when Sam was in school. He made sure Sam had a roof over his head and food to eat. And if he was lucky enough, he’d have money for Sam to go on field trips when he’d stay in school long enough. Who bought Sam’s birthday presents? Dean did. Who bought Sam’s Christmas presents? DEAN DID. John had never done that for his “boys” that he so called “cared” about. Who also had to get temporary custody of their 14 year old brother so he wouldn’t be taken away? You guessed it DEAN WINCHESTER DID.

Sam had always gotten Dean some sort of Father’s Day present each year. He saw Dean as his older brother, but also his dad. When any of his schools would do their “Parents” Day, he’d always bring Dean in. He thought he was the coolest big brother ever, but unfortunately Sam never knew what would happen to Dean when he wasn’t around. He didn’t know the true evils that lie beneath John Winchester.

Dean would always stand up for his brother, he didn’t care how bad of a beating he’d get. As long as he knew Sam was safe, that’s all that mattered to him. Unfortunately Sam would witness some of this, but thankfully not all of it. Though he did remember when John had thrown Dean out of the house when it was pouring down rain and it was awfully cold outside.

John and Dean had gotten into a pretty heated argument that night. “Dean, for the last time, I am your father! You need to listen to me!” He said in an angry tone as he looked at his son. “Father? Father?! Are you fucking kidding me! You are not worthy of being called a father! You know who is a father though?! Me! I’m there for Sam more than you have ever been? Do you know the foods he likes? Or dislikes? Do you know his allergies? Do you know who his doctor and dentist are!? No you don’t do you! Cause you’re too busy going off and finding the thing that killed mom! Guess what, John you’re never going to find it! Can’t you accept that she’s gone and she’s never coming back?!” Dean snapped at his father. That really pissed John off. He made his way over to Dean and slapped him hard. “Don’t you DARE talk to me like that again, boy! What the hells wrong with you?! You know what? Get the fuck out of this room and away from me! I’ll send your ass back to Sonny’s if I have to!” He threatened. He had Dean sent there before snd he wasn’t scared to do it again. “Oh yeah?! Well maybe this time I’ll show him my “werewolf” marks and tell him the truth that my “father” is an abusive alcoholic!” He yelled as he looked at his dad angrily.

John soon walked past him, grabbing onto his arm tightly, and leading him to the door. He soon opened the door, throwing him out into the pouring cold rain. “YOU are NOT welcomed back into this room until you learn and understand not to talk back to your father!” John spoke before slamming the door and locking it. Dean was only 16 almost 17 when this happened. Who the hell does something like that to their own kid? Dean teared up as he looked at the ground. Why would his dad do something like this. As he pulled himself together, he made his way to the impala. Luckily, he knew how to pick lock the doors. Once he made it inside. He climbed into the backseat and shivered a bit. It was colder than all hell in there. He didn’t have his jacket so that made it worse, plus he was also wet.

Sam had tears in his eyes as he watched his father and brother fight. He hated when the two would fight. He also hated when Dean would leave him. He didn’t enjoy being with John at all. As he wiped his tears, he heard the rain start to pick up. He was worried about Dean being out there in the cold weather. An hour went by and he knew John would’ve drank himself to sleep by now. He grabbed a few blankets and quietly made his way to the door. Carefully, he unlocked it, going outside and quietly closing the door behind him. He soon bolted for the impala since he guessed that’s where Dean would be. Dean was lost in his thoughts as he looked out of the window. Soon, he saw a small figure approaching the car. Once the figure was close enough, he realized it was Sam. He quickly got up and opened the door, letting his little brother in. “Sammy, what the hell are you thinking? It’s pouring down rain.”

“I don’t care, I missed you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Sam said as he soon climbed into the backseat with his older brother. “I brought you some blankets.” He spoke, looking over at Dean. “Sammy,” Dean said with a sigh. “You’re gonna make yourself sick like this. You didn’t have to do this. I’ll be okay.” Sam shook his head and hugged his brother tightly. “I don’t want you to leave me again..” he said in a sad tone. Dean looked confused as he held him close. “Sammy, you know I’m not going to leave you. Why would I do that? If anything, you’d be going along with me. You know that. I’d never leave you behind.” He reassured his younger brother. “But, dad said he’d send you away. I don’t want that, Dean!” Sam exclaimed as tears were streaming down his face.

“Oh Sammy…you don’t have to worry about that.” He spoke, shaking his head softly. “I promise as long as I’m around, you’ll always be safe with me. You won’t have to worry about a thing.” He reassured, covering his brother with the blankets he brought. “Now, you need to get some rest. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

As Dean was remembering these awful memories, he hadn’t realized that Sam was in his room. Sam noticed his brother was hurting and it made him upset. He always hated seeing him like this. He made his way over to him, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. “Dean? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly. Dean jumped as he heard his brother’s voice. He quickly looked at him, wiping his eyes, and nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry, Sammy” he said as he faked a smile. Sam shook his head and hugged his brother tightly. “No you’re not, Dean. What’s going on? You know you can talk to me.”

Dean hugged him back, sighing sadly as he teared up once again. “I-I’m not a good enough brother for you, Sam..” he chocked out. “Dean, yes you are. You’ve been there for me my whole life. You’re more like a dad to me than ours ever was. I appreciate everything you’ve sacrificed for me. Don’t you dare say you’re not a good enough brother for me. You’ve done so much for me and I never take you for granted.” He reassured the other as he rubbed his back a little. “You were young when everything happened and you took me on as your responsibility. You knew you didn’t have to, but you did anyway. You made me the man I am today, Dean. John didn’t do that, you did. You stepped up when he stepped down. I don’t know anyone else who would do that for their brother. I love you, Dean and I’m always here for you. You became the man dad should’ve been. Mom would be so proud of you.”

Dean cried as he listened to him. He was right, he was better than John. He nodded as he wiped his tears again. “I love you too, Sammy. Thank you.” He sniffled.

“You’re welcome, how about you and I get some pie, ice cream, and whatever else you want. And we can rewatch Scooby Doo.” Sam suggested. Dean smiled at that, nodding softly. “Sounds good to me.” He replied. Sam smiled back, getting up, and helping his brother up. As he lead him to the door, he patted him on the back. “You’re a good brother and dad, Dean.” He said and the two were off on their way.

#fanfic #oneshot #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #supernatural #spn #spnfandom #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffrey dean morgan

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 3 years ago

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Here’s every pieces I wrote about Dean Winchester

DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WRITING. NEVER. NOT TODAY. NOT TOMORROW. NEVER.

NSFW = 18+ ;)

If you wanna be added to the taglist, just drop an ask or comment!

Hard to Love

Summary: After a particularly intense fight with Dean last night, you wake up with no one but a letter next to you in the bed. You’re sure your boyfriend wants to break up with you, until you find a poem hidden in his hunter’s journal… or is it a song?

–

The First Time (NSFW)

Summary: It’s been months since I started dating Dean after he saved me from a werewolf. I now live with the brothers in the big bunker. Months and I still haven’t done anything with him except kisses and soft bites. I know he’s the one, and even if he really desires it, Dean is exceptionally patient. Because he too wants my first time to be perfect. But sometimes perfect doesn’t mean planned…

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Hot Blooded (NSFW implied)

Summary: They met at a club. Things get heated. She’s shy and he’s a bit high. But mostly, he’s hot blooded and she craves him.

–

When I’m Gone (Dark/ NSFW) (Mini-series)

Summary: When Zachariah sends Dean in the future to show him what’ll happen if he keeps saying no, the annoying angel also sends you. Because that asshole is certain you can convince your boyfriend to become Michael’s meat suit. But when that doesn’t work, Zachariah leaves you in the future, putting pressure again on Dean to say yes, or else, he’ll never see you again. But in 2014, there is no future version of you because you died years ago. And 2014 Dean doesn’t want to let you go.

–

It All Fell Down

Summary: You won’t leave Charlie alone in that motel room. You won’t let her get hurt. If they want to touch her, they’re gonna have to go through you.

–

Pads, Paws & Claws // Part 2 (NSFW)

Summary: It happened once, but now they have to do it again. The only witness of a murder being the family pet, the super potion that allows people to communicate with animals has to be used. However, this time, Dean ain’t connected to a dog. And no one was prepared for the attitude coming with being linked to a cat.

–

Dove In A Cage (Dark!Fic) (Drabble)

Summary: You’re trapped like a dove in a cage. And then, there’s a man by the door.

Adrenaline Momentum (Crossover) (NSFW)

Summary: Once in a while, Eddie needs some time without Venom for his body to recover a little bit. When this happens, he calls his good friend Dean Winchester who takes the symbiote for a couple of days. Venom has nothing against it since he likes the hunter and he can eat as many monsters as he wants, but this time, it’s different, because you’re there. Dean tries to keep the symbiote a secret, but Venom has other plans. He wants to know why Dean’s mind turns so dirty whenever you’re around, and he will get answers.

Anchor

Summary: When Sam gets badly hurt during a hunt, Dean freezes and gets a panic attack. After making sure Sam is alright, Y/n has to take care of Dean. Turns out, all he needs is an anchor.

Still Staring Sweetheart (NFSW)

Summary: It’s Halloween, the perfect opportunity for Dean to wear the cowboy outfit he brought back from 1861 for trick or treating. And the perfect opportunity for you to stare discreetly. Only, you’re bad at staying discreet, especially when Dean starts talking about… Pancakes?

Sweet Cookies

Summary: Sam makes cookies for Christmas. Lots of cookies. Dean wonders, are they all for Santa? Turns out Sam planned a christmas party with all of their friends.

Minty Candy Kinky (NSFW)

Summary: You don’t like candy cane’s taste, but you still eat them. Why? How Dean looks at you when you suck the candy is totally worth it.

The Drug in Me is You (NSFW) (Dubcon)

Summary: There are still Azazel’s kids alive, other than Sam. And when Dean went to hell, Sam got helped by one. Without her, he wouldn’t be there anymore. Her name is Y/n. Sweet, little Y/n that trusted Sam. Sweet little Y/n that Sam got addicted to demon’s blood. And now Dean is a demon and he has a lot of plans for her.

Already Cursed (MOC!Dean)

Summary: When a hunt turns out to be a trap, you get caught by demons and Dean gets tortured for information about the mark of Cain. They pierce his flesh the moment they push him on the table, but the mark is strong. It makes Dean stronger and more angry. The mark is craving violence. And quickly, Dean’s screams turn into laughter.

Shining, Beaming, Will You Marry Me?

Summary: It’s Christmas and everyone is there to celebrate. The day is beautiful, but Dean just wants to make the night even more special.

Sexy Rules (NSFW)

Summary: Dean likes rules. Sexy rules. He won’t ever say it aloud, but he likes to be the bottom. To be under your touch and your orders. To be completely submissive. But you know that already. Dean just needs a little push in the right direction.

The Night We Met

Summary: Years ago, Dean got hit by a memory spell. Ever since, even if Rowena fixed him, he gets weird absences; he suddenly forgets who he is and always runs away. There’s only one place he can go, one place he feels safe. To the night you met.

Roses Are Red...

Summary: Dean always tries his pick up lines on you before using them on girls he’s interested in. To be sure they work and because your reactions are worth it. Funny, kinky or sweet, his words quickly get to you, and before you know it, you’re falling for him and his bad pick up lines. But it starts to get too much, it hurts to see the man you love with other prettier girls. But what if the person he wanted all along was there from the start?

Isn’t it Lovely, All Alone? (NSFW)

Summary: Friends with benefits. Pretty self explanatory, right? Friends. But with some benefits. Friends, sex, but no feelings. Just two people losing themselves in each other’s flesh, becoming, for the time of a heartbeat, one. But with Dean, it’s more than that. It’s everything. The day he fights Dick Roman is the last day you see him. Sam doesn’t care, but you won’t abandon him. And you’re ready to do everything to bring him back.

To Build A Home

Summary: A home is not a place, not always. A home is where you feel safe. A home can be a person, it can be a car. Dean thinks he shot a hole in every single thing that he loved. But you’re there to remind him everything that is still there, including his home.

His Perfect Doll (Michael!Dean)(NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: She’s a doll. Her only duty is to be perfect for him at all times. A doll doesn’t talk. Doesn’t express feelings. It exists, simply. So when, one day, the doll wants to show how much she loves him and puts on some lingerie, neither she or him expect the effect it would have on him. And how it would make him and the man he keeps locked in his head… Snap.

The Lucky Shirt

Summary: You were sure you had the right bag. But turns out, when you walked head first into a wall of perfection, you swapped laundry bags with him by mistake. Now, you’re stuck with only his clothes to wear and not much time to find him again before the presentation that could change your life.

Messy Eating (NSFW)

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

Books? I Love Books! (NSFW)

Summary: Dean wants your attention, and to get it, he decides to read your book out loud. It’s all cute until the story gets more… Spicy.

Dirty, Dirty Little Secret (Michael!Dean x Crowley)(NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: Crowley has lots secrets. He’s still alive and hiding, for example. But his dirty, dirty little secret is much darker than this. He thought no one knew, but then, he found him. His former friend, now possessed by an archangel. And Michael has a deal Crowley cannot refuse.

A Rose for the Snake (NSFW)(Series)

Summary: Since he discovered the club, Dean’s been going at least once a week. Being a dom is something nice, it makes him feel powerful and in control. But is it really what he likes? Or is it the domme assigned to teach him the basics that tells him what to do?

Is there a rose hidden somewhere under the scales?

The Time of A Coffee (NSFW)

Summary: It’s only you and Dean for the hunt. Sharing a motel room is not the best, but it’s a must, so you sleep in the same room as Dean for the first time. But Dean is a man of routine, and he cannot function without his coffee. Fed up with how long it takes him, you act like a brat to piss him off, only… Dean has no patience in the morning. Especially when you walk naked in front of him.

Unforgettable (NSFW)

Summary: When Dean finds a strap-on in your stuff, the first thought that comes to his mind is not how he could fill both your holes at once. Or that you were down for a third person to join for a little fun. No, the first thought Dean had was how would it feel to be fucked by you.

The Deal (NSFW) (Dean X Benny)

Summary: Since they were stuck in Purgatory together, they had a deal and that deal was simple. Daylight was for survival, fights, and finding Cas. Night time was for what they craved the most. For Benny, it was his blood. And for Dean, it was something he could never tell anyone.

One Day, I’ll Say Hello

Summary: It keeps happening. Whenever he goes, Dean seems to bump into the same girl. Every time, he finds himself unable to speak to her. When he meets her again at the beach, everything finally makes sense.

Heartbeat Thump (NSFW)

Summary: One day, you stubble on Dean watching hentai. It’s no big deal, until it happens again. And again. After a while, you start getting jealous of those cartoon girls he likes to watch so much. Why are they so special? What do they have more than you to have his full attention?

Dangerous Attraction (NSFW)(Dark)

Summary: She was perfect. No strings attached, only names were shared, and she gave him the best time in bed. But sometimes, when someone is too perfect, it’s because they hide something. And unfortunately, it was already too late for Dean.

Crazy, Stupid, Love

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

The Most Innocent Sinner (NSFW)

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

The Dress (NSFW) Coming soon

Summary: When you go shopping with your boyfriend, you try a certain dress and show him. But Dean loves that dress a bit too much and things get heated in the fitting room…

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sortasirius · 4 years ago

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“Despair” and Dean and Cas

Well well well, winning is my favorite thing.

As usual, this is going to be as long as hell. And fair warning, it’s extremely emotional.

So here it is, the thing that we have been barrelling towards for years, literally years.

Just want to point out this. Also, I will NEVER allow someone to speak negatively about this writing group, EVER.

Team Free Dads starting off the episode is so sweet, so scary. Cas’ calming, Dean’s fear, Sam’s desperation, really just hammering home how much they love Jack, how his pain is pain for them, how losing him is unbearable.

“I can’t stop this. I’m coming apart. I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t let me hurt you.”

Oof. If you’ve ever question whether Jack is a Winchester, this line should shut that shit down for you.

When I tell you I was PISSED when Billie sent Jack to the Empty to EXPLODE????? PAIN.

“Yeah the Empty can’t come to earth, not without being summoned.”

Hello Bobo, clue number 1.

The fact that they only had Jack in limbo for like five seconds was great for my heart health, thank u very much Bobo.

Also Dean wielding Death’s scythe?????? KING?????

Man, Sam and Dean’s growth. The way that they’re able to, idk, actually speak on how they feel without death looming or fear or pain. It’s just a conversation, just an honest conversation of Dean admitting his mistakes, admitting how he felt. Admitting that he fucked up, and Sam forgiving him for it.

CHARLIE AND HER GF CHARLIE AND HER GF CHARLIE AND HER GF

Also...hunters and their “dates.” Two hunters who are happily together, who are happily fighting monsters. Hm. Sounds like a Saileen/Destiel parallel to me boys.

You ever wish Cas would look and the mirror and take the great advice he gives others? Because I do. He’s always tried to be “useful” for Sam and Dean, for Jack, always tried to make sure that he’s useful enough that they keep him around. But what he doesn’t understand, what he’s never understood, is that they need him because of who he is, not because of what he contributes.

Remind y’all of anything?

And here we have Clue Number 2

And then, Sam’s realization. Eileen.

Did I begin full tilt screaming no in my apartment when he said her name? Who’s to say?

How can a lock screen cause me this much pain????

Okay but: Charlie loses Stevie, Sam loses Eileen. Clue Number 3.

I feel like I don’t talk enough about how much Sam loves Eileen. About how obvious it is that they are endgame, about how happy he is when he talks about her. This just feels like a blow to the stomach, but we’ve barely even started.

Sam immediately shifting into protective leader mode? He is the love of my life.

Dean’s simple nod, like it’s a given? Enough to do me in right there.

This is another episode where it’s just so clear that Sam is the leader of the North American hunters. Everyone knows him, everyone is willing to follow him. He’s knowledgeable and kind and fair and just and an incredibly capable fighter. Once again, I don’t believe his work on earth is done.

Can we also please talk about how FRIGHTENING IT WAS for Jack to kill that plant??? I don’t really have much of a comment on it because I was literally just like ?????

With Billie saying that it’s Chuck, the way that people were dusted, very similar to Becky and Amara, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised, especially with Donna getting taken off the board. It’s like I said last week, I don’t buy that he’s taken himself off the board, he’s too invested in the unraveling of this story to take a step back. He’s gotta break them before he can defeat them, that’s the only way.

And here we go, into one of the most painful and surreal things I will ever write about.

Dean’s speech. His guilt, his regret. The shame of not only trapping himself, but the pain, the horror of trapping Cas.

“I just lead us into another trap. All because I, I couldn’t hurt Chuck. Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that’s all I know how to do.”

“Dean-”

“It was Chuck all along. We never should have left Sam and Jack, we should be there with them now. Everybody’s gonna die, Cas. Everybody. I can’t stop it.”

His narrative arc. Tied up in a bow.

“She’s gonna get through that door.”

“I know.”

“And she’s gonna kill you and then she’s gonna kill me. I’m sorry.”

Cas smiles.

Cas knows. He knows what’ll get them out of this, and he knows that he would do anything in this Universe for Dean Winchester. The human man he fell for.

“When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”

“You what?”

“The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I’ve wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer, because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have.

“But I think I know, I think I know now...happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.”

“What are you talking about, man?”

The most selfless thing Cas does in this, and he does a lot of selfless things, is to tell Dean Winchester how impossibly good he is. To tell him that he is worthy, to tell him that he is adored.

“I know, I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive and you’re angry and you’re broken and you’re daddy’s blunt instrument. And you think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you, that’s who you are. It’s not. And everyone who knows you sees it, and everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raise your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.

“You’re the most caring man on earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you outta Hell...knowing you has changed me.

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

“You changed me, Dean.”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Dean’s greatest fear. His fear of those loving him leaving him. The terror of being alone.

“Because it is.

The head shake. Don’t love me. Don’t love me if it means you’ll leave me, don’t love me, everyone I love leaves me. Don’t leave me. Don’t love me. Don’t leave me.

“Don’t do this, Cas.”

Just like I always thought. One last look at Dean before the Empty takes him.

“Cas-”

“Goodbye Dean.”

And Dean is left, broken on the floor, unable to answer Sam’s calls, unable to do anything. It doesn’t matter to him that Chuck has wiped everyone out, it doesn’t matter to him that Sam and Jack might need him. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, because the thing that mattered still hangs on his lips, still waiting to be said, and now he won’t get another chance to say it.

The fact that I am writing this, even with all my spec, with all my analysis of the writers’ room, of their text, of the way Dabb and co had approached this story, nothing could have ever prepared me for this. Nothing could have prepared me for a three and a half minute, uninterrupted scene where Cas confesses not only that he loves Dean, but that he has always loved him.

I talk a lot about how these writers don’t get the credit they deserve. Unfortunately, from most of this fandom, they never will. We will likely never know the fights with the network they had, the steps backward they had to take, the way they had to beg and fight and claw to get this on the screen. But they did it. They did it for these characters, they did it for this dinosaur of a show, and yeah, they did it for us.

It was not easy, I can promise you, to get this greenlit. They had to fight for this, they likely had to call in favors and make threats and quite literally put their careers on the line (you may scoff at that, but WB is a BIG company, especially in the TV/movie world) for this story. This story of Dean and Cas, the man dragged out of Hell and the angel who fell for him.

I have tons more to say, and will likely have several more posts about this, but I want to leave all my babes who are worried that that was the end for Dean and Cas with some takeaways.

Sam is missing Eileen. Dean is missing Cas. That is no longer a fun subtextual parallel, that is it for them. Their respective endgames are missing, and they will not know their peace until they get them back. Chuck will not win. That’s not the story being told, and right now? He’s winning. He’s broken them, left them with nothing, left them with an empty world and a hole in each of their hearts where their person (or angel) used to be.

Our show is going to end with “contentment.” “Contentment” isn’t from Sam and Dean being filled with grief and hitting the open road. It isn’t Sam getting Eileen back and leaving Dean with no one. “Contentment” is Sam and Eileen, Dean and Cas. Together.

#destiel #spn #supernatural #my meta #destiel meta #spoilers #spn 15x18 #i cannot believe this #i cant believe i wrote this #this is real #theyre really canon

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mummybear · 3 years ago

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Finally, I’ve Found You.

Words: 4938

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, ABO, Protective Sam, Possessive Dean, Claiming, Scenting, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Control, Hair Pulling, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, knotting....Think that’s it :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Bingo Square: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space - ABO Soul Mates

Summary: When your protective Alpha best friend takes you to meet his family, things don’t go quite to plan. You end up finding something, or someone, you’ve been looking for your whole life.

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr Thank you again babe! :D

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Being an Omega in this part of the world was nothing short of a nightmare - Omegas were treated as slaves and fuck toys for Alphas. When your parents had died, you were even more scared than ever before. Being left alone in this world was terrifying, you hadn’t told anyone, not until you’d met Sam Winchester. He was an Alpha through and through,” - at least, that’s what he let the outside world believe. To you he was your best friend, and your protector. He was a complete sweetheart, even when you knew it was hard for him not to give into his nature.

The most that he ever did was snap at you, but that was only when his rut hit particularly hard or your heat or his rut started before either of you were ready. Even then though, he would lock himself away, or he would lock you away and keep you safe, until those days passed. You wanted to want Sam in that way, and you knew he felt the same, but neither of you had ever been able to bring yourselves to do anything.

There were times you’d talked about it at length; the possibility of you being his, but you’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t right, for either of you, and it wouldn’t be fair. You were worried though, because if Sam wasn’t supposed to be yours, then who was? And were they even half as sweet, hot and caring as your best friend? You only knew what you’d been told by your other Omega friends, once you found your mate, you would just know.

“You ready to go?” Sam asks as he walks into your room, with a big excited grin on his face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?” you sigh as you finish zipping up your suitcase for the weekend.

“Y/N, trust me! My family are going to love you.”

“You know I trust you, more than anyone on the planet, but I don’t know if It’s such a good idea. I’m not exactly special, I’m just like any other Omega,” you sigh as he takes the suitcase from your grip, and you hear him huff quietly.

“I’ve told you before, that isn’t how any of my family see it. Besides, you’re my best friend, they know how much you’ve been there for me. Even if you are a giant pain my ass. Now come on, stop complaining,” he winks at you over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow him out of the door.

“Fine, but you better not leave me on my own,” you huff out, locking the door behind you.

Luckily the drive doesn’t take as long as you thought it might, and all too soon you’re pulling up to a gorgeous home, with perfectly kept lawn and two classic cars in the driveway. You wring your hands in your lap, feeling the nerves creeping up on you even more than you’d expected. You can feel the need to be sick pressing against the back of your throat. Sam must notice because seconds later you feel a big hand on top of both of yours, and you feel a slight sense of calm start to settle over you.

“Sam, I told you not to use those Alpha powers of yours on me,” you laugh slightly, feeling grateful that he doesn’t always listen to you.

“Y/N, you’re shaking and you’re breathing too hard. I don’t want you passing out on me, just breathe,” he smiles gently, the complete picture of calm, as always.

It takes a few moments, but you finally manage to get your breathing under control, and your heart stops racing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” you swallow thickly, climbing out of the car and following Sam as he pulls your suitcases out.

Sam looks you over and frowns, “now you mention it, I’ve never seen you like this. Did we work out the days wrong? Is your heat due or something?”

You think on it for a moment as Sam leads you to his parents house, and over to the front door.

“I, uh, no. I only had one a two weeks ago. You know I only have one a month, it can’t be that.”

Before Sam can respond the door is pulled open, and a grinning couple fill the doorway.

“Sam! It’s great to see you son.” The older man steps forward and embraces Sam in a tight hug, that Sam returns with a big grin. Before turning to the older woman and doing the same. It’s clear to see they’re his mom and dad. The family resemblance is beyond obvious.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N this is my mom and dad, Mary and John Winchester,” Sam introduces fondly.

“Great to finally meet you, Y/N! Sam has told us all about you,” John smiles warmly, giving you a quick hug which you return nervously.

“We really have heard so much about you, thank you so much for looking after our baby,” Mary grins, and pulls you into another hug.

“Now, come on inside you two,” Mary tells you both, moving aside so you can follow Sam into the house.

“Sammy!” You hear from down the hall, and you follow Sam further into the house, watching as Sam is embraced by a slightly shorter man with sandy hair. You smile at the display of affection. it’s so nice to see Sam surrounded by family, he’d always spoken about them, and you’re guessing this must be the brother he’d told you countless stories about, Dean.

Suddenly Dean looks up and his eyes lock with yours over Sam’s shoulder, you feel like a rug has been pulled from under your feet and you stumble back a little. Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, and you swallow thickly around the lump that’s lodged in your throat. You bite your lip as his nostrils flair and feel yours do the same as his scent hits you, and it’s like you can see his eyes darken before you.

Your words are stuck in your throat, until Mary comes to your side and wraps her arms around you, “Y/N? Are you feeling okay, sweetie. Do you need to sit down?”

Her voice sounds a little distant, like you have cotton wool lodged in your ears, but you hear her faintly all the same.

“Yes, please. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” you all but whisper, tearing your gaze away from Dean, as Sam pulls away from him to come and stand by your side.

Mary and Sam lead you into the living room and help you get settled on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Mary checks again, as she sends Sam away to help his father outside with the grill.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I think I just need a minute, long drive,” you explain as you try and reassure her, and she nods in understanding.

“Okay honey, if you need anything we’ll just be outside okay?”

“Thank you, Mrs Winchester,” you sigh, leaning back against the soft sofa, and you let your eyes close for a moment. You feel her squeeze your hand and the sofa dips as she steps away.

You suck in a deep breath and your eyes snap open, as an unusual but tantalising mix of scents fill your nose. It’s like leather, spice, oil and something you don’t quite recognise. Then your gaze falls on the door you’d come through earlier, and on him.

You sit a little straighter and shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Hi, you must be, Dean. I’m Y/N,” you practically whisper as he walks further into the room.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips, his gaze heated, like he can see through your clothes and it makes you shiver.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” his voice is almost a growl as he talks, and he takes the seat right next to you, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand and your eyes lock with his, a complete calmness settles over you and you can feel yourself leaning into him. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he repositions his hand, so that his fingers are moving between yours, intertwining your hand with his own.

“Alpha,” you whimper leaning in closer, following his lead, until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“Omega,” he practically growls, scooting his body closer to you and breathing deeply, as his free arm curls around your waist tightly, almost possessively.

“There’s something about you… I don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” you mutter, almost disbelieving, like if you say it too loud he’ll disappear.

“Neither have I, but I can smell it. I know you’re mine.”

He says it with such finality, and you want to believe him because, fuck, he’s perfect. Gorgeous, strong, great family. But beyond that you don’t know anything about him, you’ve literally just met, but something tells you that you can trust him, that he’s right, and you are his and he’s yours.

“B-But we’ve just met, Dean,” you stutter, as the hand gripping your waist slips just beneath your t-shirt and brushes your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re mine, I know you are. I can feel it, I can smell it, and I know you can too,” he growls as your free hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

“I can feel it, in every bone in my body, Dean. But we can’t,” you protest weakly, trying to pull away, but he holds your body tight against his.

He pulls back and looks at your face, “Is it Sam?” he huffs, and you can hear the unease in his voice, you can tell he’s forcing down a possessive growl.

“Why would it be anything to do with Sam? He’s my best friend, and that’s it. We both feel the same,” you sigh as he pulls away further, and you groan as your stomach rolls painfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll let you rest, just pretend this never happened, okay?” he grits out, voice shaking as he backs away slowly.

“No, Dean, don’t. I didn’t mean you had to go!” you call after him, but before you can get up he’s already left, and you hear the back door slam closed.

Dinner had been really great, full of great conversation and stories of Sam and Dean when they were younger, not to mention the amazing food. It only made you more confused as to why Sam never cooked more often at home. But after ten minutes, something had changed with Dean, and he’d gone to eat in his room, claiming that he had to make a call for work.

You’re all now sitting in the living room, while Mary shows you photos of Sam and Dean when they were babies. When suddenly a wave of pain hits you from nowhere, and you grip Sam’s arm tightly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and he looks really worried as he takes you in.

“No. Something’s wrong,” you whimper, wiping at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Sam carefully helps you to your feet and you cling onto him tightly.

“Mine.” Comes a growl from the doorway, snapping everyone's attention away from you and towards Dean.

“Dean? What the hell do you mean ‘Mine’?” Sam questions defensively, putting himself between you and his brother, pushing your body behind him.

“Alpha,” you whine, reaching for Dean, and Sam has to hold you tighter against his side, so you don’t fall to the floor.

Everyone seems to be looking between you and Dean, before John groans quietly, “Fuck, I shoulda noticed earlier. Sammy you need to let her go, son,” he tells his youngest son gently, as he walks towards you and Sam.

Sam looks at his father as though he’s gone mad and holds you tighter.

“No way, clearly Dean’s lost his damn mind, he’s not going anywhere near her. I’ve kept her safe for years, but I didn’t think I’d have to protect her from my own family.”

Your eyes lock with Dean’s and you whimper as he starts to walk towards you, feeling the slick gathering between your thighs.

“Sam. Listen to me, Dean must be her mate. You said yourself that Y/N isn’t due a heat, right?” John asks calmly, stepping between his boys.

“Not for another two weeks, why? What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Sam exclaims with disbelief.

“Well, your brother has literally just had his rut. So by rights, he was safe, unless…” John trails off, maybe hoping Sam is understanding.

“Sam, please. I need him,” you moan pathetically, as John growls at his eldest son warning him to step back, in an effort to calm the situation down.

“It must be another heat, Y/N, it’s the only explanation. You’re not thinking clearly-” you unintentionally cut Sam off, when a scream rips through your throat and you double over in pain, with Sam’s arms the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Dean whimpers and looks around his father, locking eyes with his brother, looking like a scared puppy.

“Sammy, please. Let me help her,” Dean groans, running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“No. I’m the one who looks after her, not you,” Sam growls defensively.

You’re starting to lose consciousness, and your eyes are heavy, sweat dripping from your forehead. You’ve never felt anything this intense in your entire life. Suddenly a smaller pair of arms wrap around you and help you sit back on the sofa, you look up at Mary, and she’s barely in focus.

“Honey, I need you to focus, look at me okay.”

“Can’t, Mary. I’m so tired,” you slur, feeling the sofa dip the other side of you.

“Doll, listen to me, you can’t fall asleep, you’re burning up.” Comes John’s deep voice from your other side, and you lean into him when he presses a cool rag against your forehead.

“‘mega, tell me what you need, let me help,” Dean whispers, carefully cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands. You force your eyes open, and you can see the pain in his eyes, and the tick in his jaw as though he’s clenching his teeth.

“Alpha, please. Need you, don’t go,” you beg desperately, reaching out and grabbing his shirt in your fists. Dean’s hands cover yours and he tries to hush you gently, and you notice that you’re both alone in the room now. Your legs are still like jelly, so when you try and stand you practically collapse into Dean’s arms.

You nuzzle at his neck and purr as his scent surrounds you, feeling your vision clear slightly as your lips press against his skin.

“Not here,” Dean growls, his voice deep, husky and thick with need as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style, putting a stop to your attempt to push his shirt from his shoulders.

You clench your thighs together as another wave of arousal grips you, and you feel Dean’s fingers tighten against your body as he carries you up the stairs. When you reach the second door on the left, Dean walks inside and then kicks the door closed behind him. He heads over to the large bed and lays you down carefully, before sitting down beside you, and brushing the sweat soaked hair away from your face. The familiar feeling of your heat coursing through your body is even stronger than it’s ever been before, and you can feel yourself curling around Dean as soon as he lays down beside you.

“It hurts, Dean,” you whimper, hooking one of your legs over his body as he wraps his arms around you and you find yourself rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to find some kind of release.

“Shh, sweetheart, just breathe. You’re makin’ it real hard to be a gentleman right now,” his voice is practically a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, “I don’t want a gentleman, I want my Alpha. I want you.”

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you feel the growl in his throat right before you hear it, “Fuck you smell good ‘mega. I could smell you as soon as you walked through that door. Haven't stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on you.”

“I don’t understand how this all happened so fast, but I know you’re my Alpha, I can feel it,” you whisper as he cups your cheek and you feel relief flood your body when he pulls you into a kiss.

The kiss starts off careful and slow but quickly becomes more passionate, he gently pushes your hands back against the mattress, and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from touching him.

“Stay there, baby, let your Alpha make it better,” he whispers against your lips between intense kisses that seem to be turning your body to liquid. Dean’s hands are exploring every inch of you, his touch is firm and a little rough, but it’s just what you need right now. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when he starts tugging at your clothes.

When he pulls away from your lips to look into your eyes, you gasp for breath, quickly realising only your panties remain. Dean hums in approval, cupping your breasts in his big hands and he gently flicks over your nipples with his thumbs, biting his lip as he watches your face for a reaction. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel more of him.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whine needily as Dean runs his fingers over your soaked panties.

Dean chuckles deeply, breath hot against your soft skin, and you shiver as he nips at your neck, “you want me to bite down just here,” he nips a little harder for emphasis, and you can’t help but moan as you struggle to nod. You arch your hips and moan his name as he pushes your panties aside, and he eases two thick calloused fingers inside your soaked entrance, slowly edging back and forth until they’re fully inside you.

“Mmm, of course you do, my needy little Omega. You want me to claim what’s mine? Want me to fuck you until you can’t see straight, and you’re coming all over my knot?” You can tell his instincts are taking over, his voice is deeper, and his touch is almost bruising, but in the best way.

Dean rips your panties away from your body with his free hand. You barely even feel the sting of them ripping, only the slight pressure on your clit as he pulls them up and off of you. Then he leans over you, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pressing his free hand to your stomach so everything intensifies as he picks up a steady pace. Then his hand shifts and his thumb presses against your clit, your hands immediately reach out, and you grab hold of the first thing you can. Your nails dig into his biceps as you hold on tight, feeling the muscle bulge and relax as he pushes towards release, the look in his eyes makes you want to give in to whatever he says.

There's just something about him being fully clothed and fully in control, while you’re naked and at his mercy that makes the Omega in you purr appreciatively.

Your stomach tightens and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes you towards your first orgasm. You’re breathing heavy and writhing beneath him when suddenly he pulls his fingers free, and your body slumps against the bed, with a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You whimper as you look up at him, wishing you felt a little less pathetic, because you would kick his ass if he was one of the Beta’s you’d slept with before. But this is an Alpha - your Alpha.

Dean chuckles, leaning back as he starts to pull off his clothes, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my beautiful Omega, don’t make all of those pretty little noises right now. I promise I’ll make it better. But the first time you come for me I want it to be with my cock inside you, stretching out this tight little cunt.” You moan at his filthy words as he throws his shirt across the room, he’s perfect, and you can’t stop staring, unable to believe how lucky you are.

“Please, Alpha. I need to come so bad, wanna feel your knot.” The desperation in your voice is clear as you cling to the sweat soaked duvet under you.

His eyes lock with yours as a filthy and cocky smirk curls at his lips. You watch with bated breath as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, and his thick cock is freed from its confines.

“Hmm, am I your first Alpha, sweetheart? Your only Alpha? Is this the first knot you’re gonna take in that perfect little pussy?” Dean sounds far too pleased with himself as he asks those questions, but in the moment they only make you squirm more.

He strokes his cock slowly in one hand as he pushes his other hand between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit torturously slow. You don’t want to stop looking at him, but your entire body is shaking with need. You clench your thighs around his hand, trying your best to stave off your orgasm.

“Dean, please. I can’t hold it,” you whine desperately.

To your relief his hand falls away, and you suck in a breath, feeling the heat of his body pressed against you forces you to open your eyes.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, voice husky and thick with need, and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance.

You can feel his thighs quivering against your own, it’s pretty obvious he’s holding himself back. You meet his eyes and swallow hard, knowing that you couldn’t go back now, even if you wanted to. You need him, you can feel it deep down.

“Don’t you want me on my hands and knees, Alpha?” you ask, voice breathy, and you shiver feeling his fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you here, ‘mega, don’t push me,” his voice has lowered to a growl, and you know you’re poking the bear, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, you need him to lose control.

You slowly drag your hand down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a breath when your hand wraps around his thick length.

“I can take it, Alpha, want you to fuck me like you mean it.” Dean grunts as your hand moves over him and you turn your head to the side, showing him your perfectly clear skin, free of any scars and stroke your fingers down the side.

“When you claim me, right here-” you don’t get time to finish your sentence, because Dean has pulled out of your grip and his rough hands flip you over and force you on your stomach.

You barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hips. Dean spreads your legs and the head of his wide cock presses inside you slowly, but then his hips snap forward, and you scream in pleasure as you lose your balance. Your fingers curl around your pillow and your back arches painfully, as he pulls out almost all of the way and snaps his hips forward again. The grip on your hips tightens, to the point you’re sure there will be bruises left behind.

“How’s that, my needy little Omega?” he growls, wrapping his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back harshly. You can’t speak, you can hardly breathe.

“Ah fuck! Dean, please let me come!” you scream feeling your pussy spasm around his cock when he picks up a steady rhythm, deep and slow, and so hard you feel like your body is going to snap in half.

“Wait. I decide where I claim you, is that fucking clear?” he growls snapping his hips forward roughly.

“Fuck! Yes. Whatever you want, Alpha,” you whine obediently, impossibly close to the edge of a mind shattering orgasm. But even your body is refusing to disobey your Alpha.

“Mmm, good girl. C’mere,” he pants, tugging you back against him by your hair and nuzzling your neck. You don’t struggle, in fact, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“You wanna come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, Dean, I need it,” you whine breathlessly, feeling his free hand roam your body slowly, as he cock continues to thrust into you teasingly.

“Then play with your clit while I fuck you. I wanna watch you fall apart, my desperate little ‘mega.”

The sheets are soaked beneath you both, his rut and your heat are in full effect now, and you know you’d do anything he asked.

You drop your shaking hand between your legs and start to rub circles into your clit, feeling your pussy clamp down around his throbbing cock. You cry out when Dean starts to pick up his pace, his thrusts are precise, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot.

“Ah! Alpha, right there!” you practically scream as he roughly tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck and you feel his teeth gently tug at your skin.

The threat of him claiming you is enough to send you hurtling into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Your body shakes in his arms as he continues to fuck into you, your tight wet heat gripping him like a vice. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Dean’s wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him because you’ve gone limp in his arms.

“So sexy when you come ‘mega, such a perfect little pussy. You want it, baby girl? You want me to make you mine?” he grits out breathlessly. Your head is swimming as you feel another orgasm burning in your stomach, but his words are enough to make you moan in agreement. Dean chuckles, pushing the sweat soaked hair over one of your shoulders, “c’mon, ‘mega, need to hear you say it.”

You tilt your head to the side again and feel his tongue against your skin, “take me, claim me, Alpha. Wanna be yours.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans sucking hard at your neck, “gonna make me come ‘mega, gonna fill you up,” his voice is a broken rasp as he fucks up into you, his pace brutal.

He lets out an animalistic growl when his own release finally hits, and sinks his teeth into your neck, then you feel his knot swell inside you. His knot catches against your entrance as his cock pulses inside you, pulling another scream from you as your second orgasm shoots through your entire body. Gasping, you both crash down onto the mattress, with Dean’s body wrapped around you.

Your bodies shake against one another as Dean pulls his teeth carefully from your neck, and licks softly at his claim mark. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you take a deep shaky breath, as a feeling of being complete finally settles over you.

Dean presses kisses along your shoulder and brushes his fingers through your damp hair.

“Remind me to buy Sammy a house for bringing you to dinner,” Dean chuckles, his voice hoarse from your time together.

You giggle and lace your fingers with his, his hand feels so big against yours but it feels right.

“Just a house, huh?” you tease playfully.

He presses a soft kiss to your claim mark and he drags his teeth over your ear lobe, “mmm you’re right, maybe a mansion,” he whispers, every word punctuated with a soft kiss and roaming hands. You can’t help but be a little nervous, this is all so sudden. What if he changes his mind about you?

His cock slips free suddenly as his knot retracts, and he turns you in his arms, so that you’re facing him. The soft smile on his face is completely disarming, and you can’t help but smile back.

“I can practically hear you thinkin’, ‘mega. I promise we’re gonna figure all of this out.”

You sigh softly and lean in, kissing him for the first time in what feels like forever. When you pull away his intense green eyes meet yours.

“It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you, Dean. You and me, it just feels right,” you tell him, and the emotion you’re feeling causes your voice to catch a little.

“That’s because it is. So, what do you say we get ourselves ready and go down to see everyone?, I think we have a little explaining to do, my beautiful Omega,” he whispers tenderly, cupping your cheek and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Probably a good idea, Alpha,” you agree, feeling a blush come to your cheeks as your fingers graze over the claim mark on your neck. You weren’t expecting your life to change so drastically in a day, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

All Tags: @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @simsadventures @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp

Dean/Jensen Tags: @hobby27 @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967 @screechingartisancashbailiff @maddiepants @spnfanfic-reblogs @holylulusworld @mrswhozeewhatsis @sonofabringmesomepie @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester @hhiggs @pisces-cutie @trina44sb @heartsaved @matsumama @adoptdontshoppets @beth-winchester21 @doctor-hp-mcu @mrspeacem1nusone @fanddoms4love @nihilismworld@noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24 @hearteyes-j2 @tatted-trina6 @deandreamernp @thoughts-and-funnies @weepingwillowphoenix

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @deanscarlett @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @deandoesthingstome @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester-blog1 @becs-bunker @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @maraisabellegrey-blog @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @there-must-be-a-lock @just-another-winchester @cas-backwards-tie @winecatsandpizza @firefly-in-darkness

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester abo #supernatural #Supernatural smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #Smut #dean smut #abo #abo soulmate

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asupernaturalgirl · 3 years ago

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Bruises At The Bar

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Someone leaves a bruise on the reader when she goes to the bar with some friends. She tries to keep it from Sam so he won’t worry.

A/N: This is a little different than what I’ve written before but I’m hoping you like it. I wanted to highlight the fact that being protective over someone is okay, but stopping them from doing the things they want to do is not and Sam strikes me as the kind of guy that would understand that. I hope everyone enjoys it!

Warnings: Creep at the bar, bruises, worry

...

If you could stay in a hotel and avoid your boyfriend for the next few days, you would. You stood in front of the door to the bunker, contemplating whether or not to go inside and hide the freshly forming bruise on your arm or instead hide yourself for the next few days. The idea of putting Sam in that much of a panic just because of someone that happened at a bar didn’t seem all that appealing to you.

Sam always wanted to give you as much autonomy as he possibly could. He was so respectful and never wanted you to feel like he was holding you back or being too possessive just because he was worried for your safety. That was why he always encouraged you to go out with your friends whenever they were around. It wasn’t healthy to only be around your boyfriend for the rest of your life and he could take a few hours of worrying if it meant you got to live a happy, enjoyable life.

Your best friends had come into town to visit you. You had to be very hush hush about hunting and knowing that you had some profession that required you to be very secretive, your friends had offered to stay in a motel nearby and you could all go out together one night. Sam was so happy to see you happy and encouraged you to do it when you showed hesitance. He said he wanted to make sure you were getting a break from the everyday drain that your lives could be at times.

Everyone was going fine. You’d dressed up nice at their motel and all of you left together, walking into the bar confidently and ordering the drinks you wanted. Occasionally a guy would come up and try to talk to the three of you. The group would playfully flirt until finally telling the men they were just having fun tonight.

One guy got a little bit too into it though. He was flirting specifically with you, obviously very interested in the cleavage that showed in your dress. Used to wearing flannel shirts and jeans, you slowly were becoming more and more self conscious. Finally, you asked the man to leave, telling him you had a boyfriend.

“I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested,” You started, shaking your head and turning your body away just slightly to try to end the conversation. “I’m just out having fun with my friends. I’m actually already with someone.”

“That’s okay,” He leaned in too close, his breath hitting your cheeks. “I won’t tell him we did anything.”

You gave him a warning stare and pushed him away slightly. “Well, you won’t have to because nothing is gonna happen. Now leave, please.”

“C’mon,” He reached up to push a piece of your hair away and you cringed back, trying to move away from him. Your friends had now ended their conversation next to you and noticed the creep you were dealing with. “Just one night. It won’t take long.”

You reached up and moved his hand away from you. You wanted to break his hand, to break his wrist, but it would bring too much attention upon you and you weren’t sure if this was the time to use those skills. Dean had taught you those things for hunting. Would this even be an appropriate time to use it?

“Get away, dude,” You exclaimed firmly, giving him one final warning. Your friends were beginning to back you up, wanting him to go away as well.

Finally, his anger came to an accumulation and he grabbed your arm, pressing so hard that you let out an exclamation of pain. “Ah, what the hell?!”

As soon as the gasp of pain came out, your two friends pushed him away and the bouncer had now become aware of the situation. He quickly walked over, grabbed the man by the back of the shirt and escorted him out of the building. After making sure you were okay and safe, you and your friends decided to call it a night and left the bar.

You finally made the final decision to enter the bunker and attempt to wear long sleeves for a few days until he would inevitably find the bruise and you could pass it off as something other than the imprint of a male’s hand. Pushing your key into the doorknob, you walked into the entry and smiled at Dean who was sitting at the table on his computer and drinking a beer.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” He said, using the affectionate nickname only he used as he turned away from the computer and towards you. “Did you get hammered?”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and chuckled slightly, setting your purse on the hook beside the door and moving towards the table to sit down with him. “Anything to forget the past, Dean. Where’s Sammy?”

He furrowed his brows and covered his heart with his hand. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Where is he?”

“He’s taking a shower. You know how he has to do anything to not worry about you when you’re gone,” He said, going back to searching on the computer for a small case to go on. We weren’t looking for anything too big recently but if need be, we would go.

Sam tried not to let you know that he worried about you, but you knew he did. When you came home from anything you did alone, a thousand things would always be done. It was the only way to keep his mind busy. After losing so many people he loved, it was nearly impossible for him to just go about life as usual. It wasn’t always bad though. You knew all you had to do was pick up the phone and he would be where you were in a matter of minutes.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” You let out a sigh and pushed back from the table, walking slowly down the hall. “Night, Dean.”

“Good night.”

Your boyfriend stood in the room the two of you shared, a towel around his waist. His muscles flexed slightly as he took another towel to his hair. While you definitely enjoyed his physique, it was the way his eyes lit up when he noticed you that made you feel almost completely better after the eventful visit to the bar.

“Hey, baby,” He said, walking over and kissing you on the lips slightly before going back to dressing from the shower. He put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, knowing he would be going to bed soon. “How was the bar?”

You walked to the bed and laid down, allowing the muscles in your body to completely relax. “Good. You know that’s not really my scene though. I usually just go for Y/B/F/N.”

He nodded. Whenever Dean would try to drag the two of you to a bar, you would always try to fight it. Usually, you could convince the older brother to go to a diner if you promised to buy him pie. On other occasions, he still forced you to go and you would sit with Sam in the corner, slowly sipping a drink.

Sam crossed the room and got on the bed with you, slowly wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer. “You want to put some pajamas on so you can get ready for bed?”

It was hard to imagine how you were going to pull this off without bringing attention to yourself. You’d been with Sam for a while now and getting dressed in the same room was commonplace. You stood up from the bed and grabbed some clothes to sleep in and began making your way towards the bathroom.

“You gonna take a shower?” He questioned, wondering why you were leaving to the restroom.

There was your excuse. “Yeah, I’m just feeling a little icky from the bar. Bunch of sweaty bodies all together, not a fan.”

He laughed at your explanation of the bar and turned on the TV in the room, decided to watch a bit of television until you came back into the room.

You changed in the bathroom, sliding on one of Sam’s long sleeve t-shirts. It comforted you to have his scent around you. Even though you liked to imagine yourself as a strong, independent woman, and you were, you had still wished for a moment in that bar that Sam would have walked through the doors and helped you. He wouldn’t have even allowed it to get as far as it did.

Exiting the bathroom and slowly padding across the floor, you climbed into bed on top of Sam. He turned off the TV and moved his hands around your waist, holding you close to him. “I’m happy you had fun with your friends. You deserve it more than you know.”

It always made you blush when he talked like this to you. He was so kind, so considerate. “Thank you, Sammy.”

The two of you laid together for a while, enjoyed each other’s company. He would occasionally press a kiss to the side of your head while his hand gently moved up and down your back. You asked yourself constantly how you deserved him? How was this the man that walked into your life all those years ago?

“I need to go get a glass of water,” Sam said, moving to stand up. He moved his hand over and pressed against your arm as he lifted himself from the bed. You let out a wince and tried to quickly cover it up. He had already noticed. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You winced. What did I do?” He quickly tried to grab your arm but you pulled it away. He didn’t need to worry more than he already did. “Did I hurt you that bad? Just show it to me.”

“Sammy-”

“Y/N, if I hurt you bad, I want to see it,” He was being more stern now, slowly growing frustrated with himself for what he thought he had done. You moved to the side of the bed and let your feet touch the ground.

“You didn’t do it, Sam,” You finally said. If he thought he had hurt you, he would never forgive himself. “It happened at the bar and you just happened to press on it when you got up.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he took in your words. “What do you mean it happened at the bar?”

Sliding up the sleeve on your shirt, you allowed him to see the fingerprint shaped bruises. His eyes widened and he gently took your arm, running his thumb along your skin. “Who did this?”

His eyes met yours. You could see that he was trying to remain cool to keep you calm but could see the fury brewing in his eyes. “This guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was trying to get me to leave with him and he grabbed me a little too hard.”

Sam closed his eyes and kissed the bruise, looking up at you painfully. “I should have been there. I would have made him leave.”

“It was okay, Sammy,” You reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. He always felt guilty when you were hurt. “As soon as it happened, my friends pushed him away and the bouncer got him. Everything was okay.”

“You don’t have to hide things like this from me, Y/N. I want to know when things happen.”

Dean peeked through the open door to say goodnight to Sam and stopped when he saw the position you two were in. “Everything okay?”

He was the one you really had to worry about. While Sam was concerned with respecting your autonomy and making sure you felt supported in your relationship, Dean saw you more as his sister and had no issue telling you no in order to protect you. He didn’t see the same relationship boundaries that Sam did. “Just dealt with a guy at the club.”

The older brother seemed concerned as he moved into the room. He got a look at your arm and clenched his jaw. “What bar?”

“Dean, pipe down. It’s not a big deal. I’m fine, I’m safe. He was just getting a little pushy,” You said it to Dean but directed it to both of the brothers. He bit his lip and rolled his eyes, walking out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam apologized. “I’m sorry that you have to deal with this sh*t when you go out to have fun.”

You shook your head. “It happens, Sammy. I just didn’t want you to be worried.”

“I’ll never stop you from doing the things you want to do, Y/N,” He said, pushing your hair back slightly. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you let me come with you and sit separately next time.”

You laughed and laid back in the bed. It seemed like the best solution for the current problem. “Thank you for being the best boyfriend, Sam.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I know. I am pretty great.”

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagines #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shots #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #dean x reader #imagines #one shots

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hereticpridevinyl · 3 years ago

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Ok I finished your gay!dean manifesto and SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!! I am incabible of putting words together and sounding coherent cause my brain is melting from my ears and psalms 40:2 has gone and replaced it. Gonna think about it for life but honestly it’s made me such a gay!dean stan now! Can I hear more of your thoughts on it and just why cause it’s so big-brained snd there but I feel like my head has been caved in by the concept cause how tf am i only seeing this NOW???

first of all, i'm so glad you enjoyed my fic! thanks for reading :)

as for the gay dean brainrot... WELCOME BESTIE, JOIN US! gonna preface this all by saying that i adore every sexuality headcanon for dean (except straight—vile energy. evil, even, and wrong) and as a bi person i would be remiss if i didn't acknowledge how wonderful bi dean is. however. HOWEVER.

(under the cut because this got away from me enormously)

i've talked about this a lot on twitter, and i know a lot of people have said this more eloquently than i, but i'll try to sum up my thoughts here.

the way dean is into women is so incredibly performative that often it can't help but be read as an act. there's almost a routine to it: dean meets Beautiful Woman, dean flirts with Beautiful Woman, dean (sometimes, but not always) sleeps with Beautiful Woman, dean pats himself on the back for fulfilling his role of Most Hetero Man In America. it's as if being into women is another aspect of his job, another skill he was taught and forced to utilize, much the same way he was taught to hunt. in early seasons, dean's interactions with woman quickly gain a stale, rote sort of taste. we as the audience expect dean will hit on any attractive woman he sees; dean as a character seems to expect it of himself. there's no anticipation behind these interactions. they're predictable and often lead nowhere—especially if dean thinks the woman is unattainable. dean's hot-blooded all-american cishet lady's man persona is just that—a persona.

we see the cracks in this persona most often during moments that are ostensibly played for laughs. haha, dean likes a show about a sexy male doctor! he gets flustered when he's around the lead haha! he's so masculine and straight and tough but he falls apart when his favorite wrestler shakes his hand and winks at him! he can't form a coherent sentence when he thinks this man is flirting with him, and he's so flustered that he doesn't try to stop it haha! he's psyching himself up for this hookup with a woman because it's funny if he's not confident! look, he likes wearing panties and his comfy bed and cooking for his family and dressing up like a cowboy but those are all things he does in private because he's actually very straight and manly! see? in an effort to make dean seem incontrovertibly heterosexual, his character becomes a parody of himself. these brief moments that we're supposed to laugh at become tragic; watching dean winchester perform his compulsory heterosexuality becomes a waiting game, seeking out those flashes of his true self, his most genuine self, from-moment-to moment.

and then something insane happens: post-season 12, dean stops hooking up with women at all.

his hookups had been waning in the two or three seasons leading up to this point, but after s12 he stops trying completely. it's as if that aggressive need to perform this learned role eventually died out. he just... stops. late seasons dean is a man who would rather stay home and watch lost boys with his husband and his brother and their son for the millionth time than have sex with a woman he's never going to see again. this is who he becomes—and the show forgets to make us laugh this time.

and we all know that supernatural has a disease that almost always keeps them from writing women well—all marginalized groups, actually, but that's a topic for another rambling post—which could be a significant factor as to why dean's most compelling romance-coded relationships are with men, but it can't be the only reason. sam's relationships with women are frequently interesting to watch, and if not groundbreaking, they seem natural. there isn't anything forced or performative about sam being into a woman. obviously the brothers are very different people and cannot be compared one-to-one, but there's definitely something to be said about sam's lack of go crazy go stupid hot girl summer star-crossed lovers cas-benny-crowley situation that dean's got going on at all times.

in my opinion, the best chemistry dean has with a woman is charlie—and while that's very strictly platonic seeing as she's a whole lesbian and probably wouldn't go for dean even if she wasn't, it's undeniable that there's just something intoxicating about watching them on screen together. while i might be biased with this analysis, i think it's worth pointing out: it's like dean's letting out a breath he's been holding his whole life when he's with her. because he knows she's unavailable, he knows there's no world in which she'd be into him, and therefore he doesn't have to bother putting on his macho straight dude persona. he doesn't have to go through the motions of hitting on her, or sleeping with her, because it's out of the question. he can be himself. turns out, "himself" is a huge fucking nerd who likes to pretend he's someone he isn't and hang out with a woman because he loves being her friend and not any other reason. the axe of heterosexuality is no longer hanging over his head.

there's a throwaway interaction way back in s2e11 that sums this up more succinctly than i can:

DEAN: of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?

SAM: well, you are kinda butch. probably think you're overcompensating.

DEAN: (pause) right.

we've got some splendid jacting here where dean gets control of the vessel for a moment and sort of nervously smiles at sam, a sad kind of scoff that just gets me. here's another moment where we're supposed to laugh, but there's nothing funny about the way dean reacts to sam's words. there's no overblown anger, there's no begrudging laugh, he doesn't roll his eyes. he just smiles. looks down. doesn't argue.

#i am SO SORRY at how long this is aslkdfj #i'm just extremely passionate #gay dean #dean winchester #spn #passionfruixts #ask box

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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late For An Apology

Word Count: 1,823

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

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader; John Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, slight torture, slight TW: abuse, but doesn’t go too in depth

A/N: i’m sorry my posting schedule sucks now oof

A/N 2: Thanks to my fav bitch @tragedy-of-sorts for reading and also for being my fav

A/N 3: The reader’s like six years younger than Dean, two younger than Sam

Masterlist

You heard your doorbell ringing in the middle of the night, while you shot your head up, looking at the clock next to you. It was 3 in the morning. You frowned slightly, reaching for your gun before slipping out of bed, looking through the eyehole.

“Dad?” you opened the door, revealing your father showing up in front of you.

“Hey, (Y/N),” you wrapped your arms around John, still in shock.

“Dad, what are you doing here? And at this time?” he walked into your apartment before you closed the door, turning on the lights.

“I have a lead. Hunting the demon that killed your mother. I’ll need your help,” he started.

You felt chills going down your spine.

“Where are Sam and Dean?” you asked.

“Sam went away to college, and Dean’s off somewhere, on a hunt probably,” he replied.

“Wouldn't either of them be able to help you better? I haven't hunted in two years, Dad,” you kept your voice low.

“They can’t know. They’ll mess everything up, you know how your brothers are. We leave tomorrow, okay?” you nodded your head softly, before going to pack your bag, getting ready for the big hunt.

---

“That’s totally unfair! (Y/N) doesn't have to train! (Y/N) doesn’t have to do anything!” you could hear Dean yelling at John, while you hid behind the door of Bobby’s house. You held a drawing in your hands, one that you made of yourself with your siblings and father.

“She is a child!” John yelled back.

“She’s twelve! When me and Sam were twelve you would force us to hunt! You never let us rest? I hate (Y/N) and I hate how you give her special treatment all the damn time!” tears welled up in your eyes as you crumpled the paper, stuffing it into your bag before sneaking back upstairs.

---

“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you and Dad for?” you kept your gaze on your bed sheets in your hospital room, hearing Dean yell at you.

“I tried to-”

“Not only do you abandon us, now you’re back, and with Dad, and never thought it was important to tell us?” he yelled.

You frowned slightly before realization hit you. They never knew why you left.

“I’m sorry,” you clenched your jaw.

He groaned, frustrated.

“Get ready, we’re leaving,” he slammed the door shut as he walked out of your hospital room.

---

“I saw your journal in the trash can, (Y/N),” John sat down next to you in your bed.

“I’m kind of over the whole drawing thing,” you lied, shaking your head.

“What happened?” John asked.

“Nothing happened, I just don't like it anymore,” you shrugged, turning back to your schoolwork.

“Just like that?” he questioned.

“I want to go on a hunt,” you said.

“What? (Y/N)...”

“I’m sure, Dad,” you interrupted him.

“Fine. We’ll start your training tomorrow,” he agreed.

He kissed your forehead and left, before you laid on your bed, digging your face in your pillow.

---

You held back a sob, watching John’s body burst into flames. There was silence between the three of you, while you stood a distance away from them.

“Sam,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go,” he walked away from you, while he and Dean headed back to the car.

Your tears fell down your face, as you let out a shaky breath.

“(Y/N)!” Sam yelled.

“I-I’m coming,” you followed them back to the car, keeping your head low.

---

Your vision was blurry as you sat in the chair, a rope tied to your hands painfully. There was blood dripping from your wounds as you cried out in pain.

“Just tell us where he is,” the vampire grabbed your hair, pulling your head up.

“No!” you screamed.

Your face was covered with dried tears, new ones forming. Your eye was bruised.

“You’re gonna talk, kid. Sooner or later,” you felt his fangs enter the skin on your neck as you whimpered. Your body was too weak to move.

“Just let me go, please,” you begged.

You could barely keep your eyes open, crying softly.

---

“What happened to your eye?” Dean walked past you, noticing the darkened skin around your left eye.

“Don't worry about it,” you shook your head, avoiding eye contact with him.

You knew he didn't remember what he did to you last night.

“Me and Sam are going on a hunt,” he said.

“Just you and Sam?” you asked.

“(Y/N), you know you’ll just end up slowing us down. If we need you, we’ll call you,” he replied.

“Right,” you nodded your head softly.

After the two of them left, you ran to your room, stuffing all your belongings into a duffel bag.

Now was finally your chance to leave them. They always hated you, it didn't matter that you were their sister. Your black eye is the least they've done to you while drunk, and you knew you had to leave.

You stood at the door, looking down at the bunker before shaking your head. It was time to go.

---

“Dad?” you opened your eyes, scrunching them as the fluorescent hospital light blinded you.

“(Y/N),” he let out a breath of relief, wrapping his arms around you as you winced.

“You’re not hunting ever again,” your eyes watered slightly as you nodded your head.

“I’m going to set you up with an apartment. You’re leaving this life,” you frowned.

“Dad, no-”

“Yes, (Y/N). You were tortured for information. I am trying to keep you safe, do not argue with me,” he raised his voice slightly.

“How come you never treat Sam and Dean like this?” you scoffed.

“They’re not my daughter. You are,” he said.

“That’s not an excuse. They’re still my brothers. They are still your sons,” you crossed your arms together.

“Enough, (Y/N). I’ll be back in the morning to get you,” he said.

“Dad,” he closed the door, leaving your room while you sighed, slumping in your bed.

---

“Babe? Are you home? I’ve been stuck at work all day, and I know we’re late to pick up…” you dropped your bag on the floor, Sam and Dean standing in front of you while you entered your house.

“Your husband and kid are out,” Dean spoke.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you were sure to take a step back.

“We could ask you the same thing, you know,” Sam scoffed.

“You left us again. You abandoned us again,” Dean clenched his fist in anger as you tensed, feeling fear run throughout your veins.

“I don't… why are you guys here?” your voice was softer as you scratched the back of your neck.

“You can't be here, you’re a danger to my family,” you could feel the nervousness in your veins as you stood firmly. You’ve spent too long afraid of them.

“You son of a bitch. What the hell are we then?!” Dean yelled.

You flinched slightly.

“Why did you leave, (Y/N)? Why did you run away?” Sam’s voice was slightly calmer, anger still evident.

“I couldn't take both of your crap anymore,” you shook your head.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“The day I left, you asked me how I got that black eye. Because you didn't remember giving it to me that previous night,” you dug your nails into your palm, trying to hold back your tears. Dean immediately scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“All my life, the two of you have despised everything about me,” you started.

“(Y/N),” Sam opened his mouth.

“Shut up!” you yelled.

You saw a surprised look on both of their faces.

“I never noticed it until I was twelve. I drew a picture for you, Dean. It was a picture of all of us, Mom included. I wanted to give it to you until I overheard you talking with Dad. Y-You told him how much you hated… how much you hated me,” you let a tear fall down your face, as Dean’s softened.

“I always tried to do whatever I could to get you two to like me, or at least to not hate me. But nothing I ever did was good enough,” you sniffled.

“That doesn't change the fact that you abandoned us,” Dean tried to defend himself.

“The first time I left was because a vampire was trying to use me to get to Dad. He didn't want that for me, and so he took me out of the life, at least until he got a lead on Azazel,” you clenched your jaw, letting out a shaky breath.

“T-The… you and Sam used to get really, really drunk. You’d never remember it in the morning. You would h-hurt me. I covered up so many bruises because I didn't want to upset you two,” your voice broke slightly as you looked at Dean.

There were visible tears in his and Sam’s eyes.

“I never knew why you hated me so much. W-Was it because Dad treated me differently? Was it because I’m the youngest? Was it because I reminded you of Mom? Was it because… was it jealousy?” Dean took a step forward, while you quickly took a step back.

“(Y/N), we never meant… We never meant to hurt you,” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“That’s all you have? Really?” you scoffed.

“Sam, just… (Y/N). Listen to me,” Dean started.

“I was jealous of you. Dad always treated you differently, always treated you specially. I was stupid, and wrong. Every time I did anything for Dad, I would only get into more trouble. Whenever you disobeyed him, he would ignore it. I’ve been jealous of you my whole life. Even now. Y-You have a kid, you have a family. You got out. I’m sorry, kid. I’m so sorry for everything,” you wiped away your tears as you kept a strong face on.

“I need you both to leave,” you said.

“I’m sorry-” Dean said.

“The door. I need you both to leave. Now,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)...”

“You’re about 34 years too late for an apology. I want you to leave. Don't come back here, stay away from me and my family,” the two of them looked at you in shock, before walking to your front door, while you held it open to them.

Dean gave you a small hug, while you remained stiff.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo,” he gave you a small smile, before walking out of your house.

You closed the door behind the two of them, immediately falling to the ground as you let out a loud sob, feeling your heart racing as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Your sobs died down as you leaned against the door, wrapping your arms around yourself. You needed to stay strong, and they needed to stay away.

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rustys-lodge · 3 years ago

Text

Periods.

request : Heyy Could you do a sister Winchester fic?Pretty please🥺Okay so basically she is like a teen and she gets a first period and she is scared to tell sam and dean cause she thinks that they'll be disgusted by her or something.But like she finally very hesitantly tells sam and he comforts her and tells her it is okay and urges her to tell dean too and she does and he is also really supportive and allAnd just a bunch of fluff✨I'm sorry if it's too derailed! I really hope you consider writing this! Thank youu.

Warnings : a whole talk about menstruation ??

----

"What do you want for dinner ?"

"Nothing..Not hungry."

The most dramatic squint was thrown your way. "Not hungry..Hmmm...That's suspicious. How can a monster like you not be hungry,huh ?" Sam took a heedful step towards you, abruptly seizing you up off the ground.

suprised, you gasped as you felt blood gush down. “Put me down.” You almost shouted, startling your older brother, who started apologizing as your feet were back on the floor.

“Honey, i’m sorry, did i hurt you or something-i’m sorry-i dind’t mea-”

“I’m okay, just leave me alone.” You wiped at the tears overfilling your eyes.

“What’s with you, today, honey ?”

you sighed loudly, hoping it’d get him away from you, but it only worried him more.

“Come on...You can tell me.” Sam rubbed your arm encouragingly.

You opened your mouth to talk but it was as if your voice drowned in your thoughts. You got your first periods that day. And you wanted to tell Sam and Dean but you were too scared to disgust them. The last thing you wanted was for them to hate you and judge you. and although you knew your brothers weren’t that type of people, it still worried you sick.

“Say it, baby. I know you want to”

You wrapped your arms around your waist as your stomach, along with the cramps, started hurting from how nervous you were. They love me...They wouldn’t get mad or disgusted..They love me..

“I prom-”

“I got my periods!” You blurted out, your eyes widening as you weren’t expecting yourself to say it. And neither was Sam, whose eyes widened as well.

He froze, mouth agape. ��I...I...”

For a second you felt as if you were as light as a feather but it all faded away as Sam kept quiet. Was he starting to hate you ? was he disgusted ? Did you do the right thing ?

The tears that welled up in your eyes pulled Sam’s attention back to you. He chuckled, hugging you and rocking you side to side rightly before letting go. “I’m so sorry, baby, i didn’t mean to make you cry. I wasn’t expecting that i’m sorry.” He sat on the bed, pulling you to stand in between his thighs.

“How-umm..How are you feeling ? Are you okay ? Do you need anything ? Does Dean know ?” Sam’s questions piled up but all you could think about was Dean. Sammy was the easy part. Dean felt more like...Hell. “Honey ?”

You snapped back to life. “Can we..keep it between us?”

Sam frowned, leaning back a little. “No...Y/n...He has the right to know. He’s your big big brother, why would you not want him to know ?”

You shrugged, glancing all around to avoid Sammy’s eyes. You felt humiliated enough. “Because he’s...he’ll get disgusted by m-”

You got interrupted by the door being yanked open.

“Speaking of the freaking devil.” You mumbled.

Dean’s eyebrows frowned at your words. “Is that how you were taught to greet people, kid ?” A little too loud apparently.

Dean set a beer case and a brown bag on the table before he slumped down on the sofa. Sam walked over to the bag, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“So, what’d you two do while i was gone ?”

Your eyes darted back over to Sam, who turned out to be watching you. You didn’t need words to communicate. His encouraging eyes and intimidating posture were enough to tell you what to do.

You tilted your head to the side, pleading him to give you more time. But he refused, tilting his head in Dean’s direction.

“Umm..” You both turned over to the latter. “Do you have something to tell me ?” He got up from the soda, burrying his hands down his pockets as he stood in front of you.

“N-”

“Yes, she does.”

“I um...” You lowered your eyes to the ground, embarrassed but Dean pulled your chin up, kneeling down on one knee. “You can tell me, buddy” He flashed you a comforting grin when he realized that it was a serious matter.

You thought for a second, realizing that he was going to find out anyways. So you leaned closer to his ear, whispering the news, as if Sammy didn’t already know.

He pulled away, his eyes widening as his lips twitched. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to react for that matter.

He chuckled nervously. “So you’re a big girl now, huh ?” His over enthousiastic voice caused you to supress a laugh. Poor men.

“You...You’re not disgusted by me, Dean ?”

“What, no, baby, of course not.” Dean placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’d never get digusted by menstruation, let alone by my baby sister.” He waited for a response but you kept looking into his eyes, doubt present all over your face. “Hey, nothing about periods is embarrassing, honey. Plus, Sammy and i are your big brothers, we’d never ever judge you or laugh at you about natural things like periods, alright ?”

You nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, D.” You muffled into his flannel before you shifted to sam, burrying your head into his shirt, “Thank you, sammy.”

“It’s okay, baby. Does it hurt ?” You looked up at Sam, nodding. He caressed your hair and then walked over to the edge of the bed. He patted the spot beside him, motioning for you to go sit there.

You waved him off and shook your head, deciding not to take the chance. You could end up with a crime scene, for all you know.

“So, what do you know about periods ?”

You scratched your head...” I was hoping you’d tell me about it!”

“How the hell would we know ?”

you scuffed. “You’re a nerd” You pointed at Sam. “And you’re a sex addict.”

“A what” Both brothers asked in unision.

Your eyes widened as you pointed an accusing finger at Sam. “I learned it from him, he said it. I heard him.” The latter choked on his own spit.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, i did.”

“Oh yeah ?”

“Yeah”

“Then go find some other nerd to help you with your periods, because im out.”

-----

Heelllooo, my girl. I’m soo sorry it took so long, i wrote it a few days ago i was gonna post it then, but then it got deleted and i forgot what i wrote so i had to come up with a WHOLE new thiing. ‘Hope you liike it ❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹

#little winchester #winchester sister #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #dean winchester #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister

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nalledimessi · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter one: Back Home.

Hello there friends! Sorry for not been here so often now but i have somethings to deal with, but I'm glad to be back and with a serie of my own. I hope you like it, love it, share it and comment. Feedback, reblogs and you keep me going and is love for me!

Before we start I want to leave special regards to my friend @imgoingtofreakoutnow because without her this serie couldn't be possible. Annie, friend, I love you and I'm still can't thank you enough for help me with this. Also thanks to @elijahs-wife hope to see you soon and I hope you're taking care of yourself.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Tag's @valsworldofcreativity @avala-moon

You stop the engine once you are in the driveway of your home, the same house you shared with him not long ago. You hesitate for a few minutes, playing with the keys in your hand. If only he was here, you think for yourself before taking a deep breath and opening the door. The dark surrounds you while you close the door behind you, leaving your keys and purse on the side table to then walk towards the counter leaving the take-out food on it.

“[Y/N]” his voice coming out of the shadows.

It would never stop to amazed you how he pronounces your name, so soft and so intimate. You sigh resting your hands on the counter, closing your eyes trying to stop the tears that want to get out desperately. “What are you doing here, Elijah? You made it clear you wouldn’t return” you question him before turning to see him.

“The truth of the matter is…” he says, taking his hands to his trousers’ pockets and standing straight, “I still have feelings for you and no matter how hard I try,” —he drops his gaze momentarily to then fix it in yours— “a part of me just doesn’t want to let go” he declares. “[Y/N] I give you…”

“Don’t you dare to finish that” you interrupt him with crystal gaze and anger in your voice, “we both know that as soon Klaus needs you, you won’t hesitate to leave everything behind” —you sigh— “including me, to run to him.” You closed your eyes trying to stop the tears at their edges. “I can’t do this anymore, Elijah” you sob, opening them again. “Please leave” you beg him.

He walks towards you and stops a few inches away, enough for you to inhale his scent. He leans over and deposits a kiss on your head. “I will leave for now.” He lingers close to you a few more seconds to then announce you: “I love you [Y/N] and that is why I have to leave” he confesses before walking out of the door and disappearing in the night.

You know you should’ve told him before, but you know him better than himself; if you had mention it, he would have been torn between choosing his brother and his unborn child.

“We’ll be fine” you say, moving your hand to your abdomen. You take your phone out of your pocket and call the only one you could count on now.

“Are you alright? Where are you?” he picks up alarmed.

“I’m fine, New Orleans” you rush to answer his questions. “I need a place to stay for a few months” you continue.

“Say no more, your room is still the same way you left it” he expresses.

“Thank you, Dean” you say relieved.

“That is what family’s for, we will be waiting for you” you hear him say before ending the call and walking upstairs to pack and go back to Lebanon, Kansas.

You rush to pack up the most essential and everything that could be used to track you down.

You look back through the rear mirror, glancing one last time at what you have called your home with Elijah these last months. -It’s better this way- you say, before starting your way back to your brothers, the Winchesters.

You reach Alexandria, wishing you could keep driving and be far away from New Orleans, Elijah and the chaos that came with being a Mikaelson, but you need to think of the safety and wellness of your child. You decide to spend only the night in Alexandria, stopping at the first motel you saw, and to continue driving at the first light of the day, obviously after breakfast.

“A room for the night” you say as soon you get to the manager office, cap over your head and a big hoodie covering you, making sure to avoid the surveillance camera that was pointing to the door.

“Card or cash?” the old man behind the counter asks while removing the room key off the board keychain.

“Cash” you respond. No way to track you that way, for anyone.

“60 dollars and I need an ID, sweetheart” he grins at you. You place your ID and money on the counter “Room 10 for [Y/N] Winchester, 2nd floor to the right”

“Thanks” you utter, taking the keys and ID from him and following his directions to your room.

Once you settle on bed, your phone starts ringing. You look at the name on the screen and pick it up.

“Hey Sammy” you greet him.

“Dean mentioned you’re coming back, is it true or he’s just playing with me?” The hope in his voice makes you smile.

“It’s true Sammy, I’m on my way. I’m spending the night in Alexandria but will hit the road first thing in the morning after breakfast” you assure him.

“It’s everything alright?” he asks concerned. He knows you after all and even if he was the youngest, he had always been the smart one.

“It’s complicated” you confess.

He chuckles. “I’m starting to think that word means Winchester”

You chuckle back. “Yeah, I think you’re right” you mention playing with the sheet of your bed.

“Alright, be safe. See you when you arrive. Love you [Y/N]”

“Love you too Sammy” you add before hanging up and plugging in your phone next to the Colt M1911A1 that Dean gave you before departing.

Standing in front of the house, Elijah notices that your car isn’t in sight and that the curtains you always keep open are closed. He walks to the entry, using his key to access the house. Looking around the first floor everything was as usual but there was no sight of you.

“[Y/N]?” he calls you from the stairs but no respond. He vamp-speeds to your room to find it completely empty; the closet without a single piece of clothing just like your drawers. The only clothes left are his, with the only exception of his dark blue dress shirt, your favorite. He takes a seat on the bed, taking his head in his palms. If only I had fought for you, he thinks for himself.

He raises his gaze at the sound of the entry door and vamp-speeds downstairs, only to appear in front of his sister. “What are you doing here Rebekah?” he questions, confused and disappointed.

“I came to see [Y/N].” She looks around. “Where she is?” she asks, setting once again his sight on her brother.

“She is gone” he announces, sad and avoiding eye contact with her, “and it seems to be my fault” he adds, taking his hand to his trousers’ pocket. “I apologize Rebekah”

“What happened?” she questions him, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you let her go”

He looks at her. “If I admit to you that it’s complicated, would that suffice? Or, are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?”

She shakes her head. “Did you push her away?”

“I came last night to arrange things between us, but she asked me to leave and so I left” he vaguely explains.

“And she was gone when you returned.” He nods.

“We should go,” he told her walking to the entrance. “There’s nothing for us here anymore” he concludes, looking around one last time before leaving the house.

It takes you more than you wanted to arrive to the bunker, but finally you are back.

“I’m home” you shout as soon you are inside, your voice followed by the sound of footsteps.

“[Y/N]! Glad you made it kiddo” you roll your eyes at Dean.

“I’m not a kiddo anymore” you say while walking down the stairs.

“You’ll always be to me.” Taking the suit case from you, he pulls you into a hug “I missed you [Y/N]” he whispers in your ear.

“I missed you too” you whisper back, hugging him.

Sam takes your bag from your shoulder and pulls you apart from Dean to crush you to his side “Glad you’re back.” He releases you a little to look at you. “You’re staying longer this time, right?” he inquires.

“Definitely” you smile, pulling back from him. “Where is Cas?” you ask after looking around the room and not seeing the angel with the trench coat.

“I’m here” he appears in front of you, looking directly at yourself. “There’s something different about you [Y/N]” he notices, squinting his eyes while scanning you.

You smile nervously. “I can assure you Cas, the same old me I was when I left. I did cut my hair though, must be it!” you rush to say.

He shakes his head “Perhaps it is.” He gives you one more look then adds “Welcome home”

“Come on,” Dean says, passing his arm over your shoulders, “unpack and refresh yourself and we will be waiting for you in the kitchen.” Dean walks you till your bedroom door.

“See you in a few” you say, taking your suit case from him and dragging it inside.

Chapter Two: Confrontations >

#waiting for you #nalledimessi #mikaelson x winchester #elijah mikaelson x winchester sister #the originals #supernatural #elijah mikaelson #winchester!sister #winchester sister #pilot #elijah mikaelson series #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fan fictions #dean winchester #sam winchester #rebekah mikaelson #always & forever

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myhumanweakness · 4 years ago

Text

I don’t want to be a huge asshole, but...

There are a lot of people trying to find a modicum of positivity in the finale. It’s not about this Destiel-Bibro war that’s happened over the years, it’s not about Cas, it’s not about any of the superficial drama. This finale was the weirdest mixture of OOC and in character writing I have ever seen.

Things that are in character:

The brothers put each other first. They are each other’s safe place and stability. Up until the very end. Sam respected Dean’s wishes, stayed with him in his last moments, and let him go gracefully. Sam even went on and had a full life so Dean’s sacrifices weren’t in vain.

For Dean, Heaven wasn’t perfect without Sam there. And he had this huge sense of relief and happiness when Sam arrived.

Jack deconstructed the walls of Heaven so that it was a vast place where everyone could be together. They weren’t living out their “best memories” anymore. They were creating new memories eternally with each other. And Bobby recognizing that Jack is like Dean’s son by saying, “That boy of yours...”

Cas helped build the Heaven that he always dreamed of. Cas always had such a high standard for Heaven, and it always fell short. He helped Jack build a home that was warm and comforting and beautiful and open and loving and true. Everything Cas stood for.

Bobby, the man Dean adopted as his father, was there to share a beer with him (just like Dean shared with his dad in his childhood). And Bobby was happy and confirmed that Dean is in a Heaven he deserves.

Sam mourning Dean’s death for the rest of his life, but also living his life to honor Dean. Classic Sam.

Dean using his last moments to tell Sam how much he loves him and how proud he is. Sam deserved to hear that because we all know Sam looked at Dean as a parental figure.

Things that are OOC:

Sam not marrying Eileen. The show created this HUGE story arc around Sam and Eileen and their real love and connection. And then they shoot this finale and couldn’t even get an actress that looked like Eileen to stand it the blurry background. Like, I don’t care what you say, it’s NOT open to interpretation. Sam did not end up with Eileen. All of you people who are Sam stans, who say you want your character to be happy and live a full life should be livid. Sam ending up with Eileen wouldn’t have canceled out the fact that Dean was/is his number one person. Dean gave his blessing for Eileen, and he loved her and welcomed her into their lives because he knew Sam loved her and had a genuine connection with her. Having them together would not have ruined the ending in any way. Sam still could have ended up with Dean on that bridge.

That woman with the blonde/light brown hair is NOT Eileen. They couldn’t even get an actress with dark brown hair to keep hope alive that they ended up together. Absolutely awful.

Dean just accepting Cas’ death and not even talking about it, other than to say, “Yeah I think about em’ too.” I don’t care if you don’t believe in Destiel or that the love was reciprocated. Dean EXCLUSIVELY said multiple times that Cas is a member of their family and a brother to the boys. He said the words, “YOU”RE MY BEST FRIEND.” I’m not saying Dean should have scarified himself to go pull Cas out of the Empty (because we had 40 minutes to wrap up 15 years). But the fact that Dean was like: I’m gonna eat some pie and just not acknowledge any feelings or thoughts and act like nothing ever happened is SO OOC. If your best friend died tragically, you’d have something to say about it or act like you had something to say about it. And that’s not to say I wanted Dean to be miserable and hurting. I’m happy he got a dog and found some normalcy. But they lost SO many people, and he’s just walking around cool as a cucumber? When every other season/episode where they lost someone important to Dean he was a mess. And I’m not just talking about Cas- we all obviously know how Dean behaved when Cas died/was missing/Lucifer was controlling him. But even when Jo and Ellen died. Even when Mary died. Even when Bobby died. Even when John died. Even when Crowley died. Even when Jack died, Dean was shown hurting. Suddenly everything is cool and normal there’s no pain or anything? The fuck? A brief moment of acknowledgement. That’s all it needed.

I will never forgive the writers for ending Dean’s story that way. A rusty nail impaling him (probably in his pulmonary arteries/aorta based on the angle) on some random hunt after he finally exhaled the episode before and said, “We’re finally free.” He sacrificed his ENTIRE childhood and life for his brother and the world and so many other people, and he didn't even get to enjoy being a human on the Earth and living a life for more than a week. What! Dean was always a character filled with tragedy, and yeah, maybe he did have to die. You can make that argument. But like that?! AND. AND! Sam held a funeral for Dean and DIDN’T INVITE ANYONE! What!!! No one was there to toast to Dean and share their memories and give him the send-off he deserved. Sam just burned his body alone. Never. That would have NEVER happened. Sam loved Dean SO much and looked up to him and thought the world of him. Dean was his big brother who was fearless and strong and the best hunter on this Earth (and probably every other planet), and he didn’t celebrate his life in the end?

Cas not showing up in Heaven is absolutely insane. INSANE. It doesn’t matter what you think of their relationship, the show has proven that Cas is important to Dean (even if you think Cas is way at the bottom of the list, he’s on it!). Dean’s ideal retirement/endgame was him, Sam, and Cas on a beach, drinking cocktails, with hula girls. That was the future Dean wanted for him and his family. And you’re telling me that Cas helped Jack build the best version of Heaven possible, and the minute Dean Winchester arrived Cas wasn’t there to greet him. Even just to say “Hello, Dean.” Even call Dean’s phone and say, “Welcome home.” Cas would have been the one greeting Dean in Heaven, with Bobby. Requited or not, it’s canon that Cas is in love with Dean. You don’t just ignore the opportunity to see the person you’re in love with. And... and! Even if Cas didn’t greet Dean in Heaven immediately, he would have appeared in the Impala during the drive. He would have met the brothers on the bridge to welcome them both home. Cas loved Sam too. He would have been there. The three boys together again. Team Free Will!

I love Cas, and I know a lot of Cas stans feel buried and betrayed and hurt over the show doing a “is he there or isn’t he?” thing. And that is completely valid. I can’t even express to you how sorry I am that so many of us in the fandom are hurting. But I know this show. And this show has always made it clear that it was/is always about two brothers. Fine. But Dean Winchester, the most caring and loving human in the entire universe, deserved better. I am so sick to my stomach that Dean’s whole life was him convinced that there was only one way for his story to end and it was him dying tragically. For years he never let himself even entertain the thought of living a life because he 1) didn’t think he deserved that or was worth it 2) it just wasn’t in the cards. We watched Dean grow so much, SO MUCH, that we finally saw him talking about the future and having hope for the future. And yeah, maybe he wouldn’t get the future he talked about with the retirement on the beach, but he would have lived long enough to experience life outside of just “playing whack-a-mole” and being God’s favorite story and puppet. Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his freedom and humanity. They took a character that they purposefully pushed through so many stages of character development to attain hope and faith and self-worth and promise, and killed him.

What the fuck!

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years ago

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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.

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #dean and john #dean and sam and john #dean and chuck #dean and god #spn 11x20 #spn 11x21 #spn 14x20 #spn 12x22 #et alii #spn #long post

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whelvenwings · 4 years ago

Photo

who will fall beside you, if you fall

Dean Winchester's been loved in a lot of different ways throughout his life. He was shaped by that love, changed by the expectations and hopes and hurts of the people he cared about. He learned fear and silence and caution. But Castiel's confession, free of expectation, might undo those lessons.

Tags: Fix-It Fic, Endgame Castiel/Dean, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Lisa/Dean Snippet and Minor Cassie/Dean Snippet, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Fallen Angel Castiel Word Count: ~4k

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” Dean said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me.” The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

“It’s not…” Dean muttered, a broken-off answer to a thought inside his head. “Just – I don’t know what you want me to do. Can you hear me thinking about you? ‘Cause it’s all the time, man. I don’t know what to do. Last time I saw you, you told me… but now you aren’t even…”

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

“If you’d just come here. You could tell me what I’m supposed to do. All I want is…” Dean’s eyes searched the backs of the cars he passed as if their number plates were esoteric texts with all the answers, all the things he needed to say. He breathed out. “I don’t know how, man, I don’t know what to do.”

Read the whole thing below the cut!

Dean was three years old and not quite steady on his feet, still, when his father took him outside to help shovel the snow. In his coat and hat he was a little duffled-up sweetheart, to whom nothing particularly bad had ever happened.

Red-cheeked and grinning, he left small bootprints in the snow.

“Come over here, Dean.” John stood behind Dean and lowered the shovel down to Dean’s height, so that they could hold it and move the snow together. Dean pressed his lips together and frowned as he followed his father’s movements. John’s coat smelled like smoke and the outdoors. They moved one, two, three, four, five big shovel-fulls.

“That’s enough for one day,” said a voice from the porch – Mary, smiling down at the two of them. John carefully lifted the shovel out of Dean’s reach, standing up to his full height. They’d managed to clear just a short stretch of the path that led up to the house.

“But Mom, there’s loads more!” Dean said, pointing to the rest of the pathway.

“Your dad can clear that. You need to come in and have some lunch,” Mary said. “Come on.”

Dean looked up to his father with wide eyes, but John put his hand on the top of Dean’s head and ruffled it so that his hat almost came off.

“Listen to your mom, Dean. In you go.”

Dean’s eyes travelled from his father’s face to his mother’s.

“There’s your favourite for dessert,” Mary said, coaxing him with a little smile.

“Yes!”

Dean made a sudden break for it towards her, running down the path he’d just helped to clear. After the crunch-crunch-crunch of the snow, the cleared pathway was hard under Dean's feet. Hard, and unexpectedly slippery.

“Whoa, there,” said John, as Dean felt his balance go, his feet skidding out from under him – and suddenly he was being lifted, one hand on either side of him. John pulled him up out of the fall, and set him back down in thick snow.

Dean blinked. It had all happened very fast.

“Next time,” John said, giving Dean a little push indoors, “I won’t catch you. You’ve got to learn, Dean.”

–––––

And now Dean was eleven years old and trailing after his father down a quiet midnight street, with a sleepy little brother in tow.

“Dad… are we nearly at the motel?”

“Nearly.”

He’d pay for that question later somehow, and Dean knew it, but because he’d asked there was a new purpose in John’s step. They didn’t stop at the liquor store that Dean knew John had been weighing going into. Walking past it, Dean felt a little break of relief in his chest. They’d get out of the cold sooner, and Sam could get to bed.

“Dean?”

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, keeping walking. Sam was wearing Dean’s coat, swimming in it, the hood pulled up and the elastic tight so only the round circle of his face was visible. It was nearly funny, but they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the humour was shaved off everything.

“Come on,” Dean said.

“I’m cold.”

“I know.” Dean cast a glance forwards at his father’s back. He lowered his voice. “It’s okay. Just a little bit longer.”

Sam made a miserable face. Their breaths were puffs of air between them. Underfoot was the hiss and crunch of melting, slushy snow.

“Can I have soup when we get there?”

“It’s late, Sammy. We’ll have something in the morning.”

“But I can’t sleep when I’m hungry…”

“Okay.” Dean cast another worried look towards his father, and then made a meaningful face at Sam when he looked back around. “I’ll find something. I think we have some of that apple juice left over.”

“That’s cold,” Sam said, but he’d quietened his voice, too. “And a drink.”

“You didn’t know?” Dean said, making sure his face was completely straight.

“Know what?”

“That’s the best part,” Dean said. “Cold drinks make you warm up faster.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, and Dean cursed internally. Every day Sam got a little smarter and a little harder to keep happy.

“That’s not true,” Sam said.

“It is,” Dean promised. “You’ll see.” He thought for a few seconds, and then said, "Maybe we can heat up the apple juice."

“Keep up, boys,” said John’s voice, from too far away. Dean realised he must have slowed down as he’d talked to Sam, even though he’d been trying to hold a steady pace. He reached for Sam’s hand, turning his head at the same time to call back to his father – and as he did so, he felt his balance betray him. His feet slipped in the slush, and in a rush he was a jumble of elbows and knees hitting the ground in all the wrong places.

For a second he sat still, assessing the damage. Nothing broken.

“Are you okay?” Sam said, the dish of his face looking pale and worried above Dean.

“I’m fine… ugh.”

“Get up,” John called, and when Dean turned his head to look, he saw that his father was turning away to keep walking. Dean scrambled to his feet, hands out for balance. His hip ached – he’d landed on it.

“I’m alright,” Dean said to Sam, pulling on a smile. “Let’s go.”

He hurried after John, making sure Sam was beside him, going as fast as he dared until they were right behind their father. His knee was starting to throb, too, and he kept it off his face carefully, because Sam was still glancing up at him.

“Saw you reach for your brother when you were falling,” John grunted. “Don’t do that. If you two’re on your own and both of you go down, you’re both dead. If Sam’s still up, he can go for help.”

“I wasn’t –” Dean tried to say.

“Don’t do it,” John repeated, more forcefully.

They walked on in silence.

––––-

And now Dean was twenty-one years old and stepping out into the brisk air of a winter evening, with his head a little light from the drinks he’d had in the bar at his back.

“Come on,” Cassie said from beside him, her eyes bright with laughter. “You can tell me.”

“Hey, we’ve been through this,” Dean said, as they began to make their way down the street, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“As if you could,” Cassie said.

Dean glanced over at her smile, and thought about the way the shifter he’d taken out earlier that day had looked at him, right before he’d swung the blade through her neck. He swallowed hard.

“I might,” he said, and held his arms a little out from his body. “How long can I contain this much raw aggression, you know?”

“Stop," Cassie said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Seriously, okay, just tell me what your job is.”

“Is it really worth your life?” Dean asked, putting on his most serious face.

“You’re really trying to tell me you’re, what – a spy? A fed?” Cassie asked. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to believe that. With that face?”

“Hey,” Dean said, mock-offended, as they passed closed-up stores and parking bays. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing,” Cassie said, “that’s literally the problem. The FBI don’t hire people who look like you, do they? This is real life, not HBO.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his face working not to look too pleased. Underfoot, the pavement was shiny with ice. Dean started to walk a little slower. “So, if this isn’t the face of a fed, what is it the face of?”

“Mmm. Radio show host?” Cassie laughed when Dean threw her a look. “Well, c’mon, how am I supposed to know? Third date and you still won’t tell me?”

“Just trying to keep the mystery alive,” Dean said, faking an absent kind of tone in the hope that Cassie would drop the subject. The sidewalk was getting more and more treacherous, each of his steps sliding just a little.

“The mystery is too alive,” Cassie said. “It could die a bit. I’d be okay with that.”

“Whoa… careful.” Dean’s foot slipped out from under him, and he only managed to keep his balance by grabbing onto a parking meter that happened to be close by.

“Easy, big shot.” Cassie watched him start to move again, even more tentatively. “Wouldn’t wanna lose the deal with HBO if you fall on that perfect face.”

There was an edge of hurt to her tone of voice, and Dean jaw tightened. Was he ever going to tell her, he wondered. Surely not. She’d hate it. Spending time with Cassie was like visiting a parallel universe. That world didn’t have room for monsters under the bed.

And so Dean kicked them back underneath as hard as he could, and smiled at Cassie, and held out his hand.

Cassie looked down at it, and then back up at him.

“Really?” she said, a smile waiting at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s slippery,” Dean said, and wiggled his fingers temptingly.

“Yeah,” Cassie said with a laugh, pushing his hand away, “it is, asshole. That’s why I’m not letting you take me down with you.”

––––-

And now Dean was thirty-one years old and watching a soccer game, gloves on, hat on, clapping along with the dark-haired woman next to him.

“Come on, Ben!” called Lisa.

“Like we practised, okay, kid?” Dean added, and watched Ben’s face relax into concentration as he placed the ball for his free kick, just a yard outside the penalty box.

“You practised free kicks with him?” Lisa said to Dean, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. Dean glanced down at her; she had her eyes on her son, but there was a little smile on her face.

“A couple times,” Dean said. “He asked.”

“That’s sweet. And I thought you two just watched TV and ate too much pizza together.”

“We do that too,” Dean said. “When I have a say in it.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. On either side of Lisa and Dean, also at the edge of the soccer pitch, were other parents all waiting on Ben to take his kick. They were standing on wet grass, a few of them stamping their feet to keep them from going numb.

Ben took a short run up, swung his leg, made contact. The ball sailed high, dipped – and the goalie caught it neatly.

“Next time,” Dean called out when Ben’s face fell, and gave him a clap. The game played on.

“God, it’s cold,” Lisa said.

“You want my coat?”

Lisa looked up at him, her big brown eyes soft.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“... Right.” Dean smiled awkwardly. Lisa’s would-be compliment hung in the air, sounding more incongruous the longer Dean stood tense and unmoving.

Lisa reached out, and put her hand on his folded arms.

“You wanna order in, tonight?” she said lightly. “Or I could make fajitas.”

“I can cook,” Dean said. “I’ll make burgers.”

“Mmm. Twist my arm.”

Some small burst of relief, there. Dean’s expression eased. He put his hands in his pockets, lifted his chin, as though remembering the role he was playing. Who he was, now.

He shifted his feet – and felt his right foot slide, almost right out from under him. He steadied himself, hands out to the sides, looking down at the grass.

“Careful,” Lisa said.

“Jesus,” Dean said at the same time.

“Come here,” Lisa said, holding out her hand.

Dean smiled.

“It’s all good,” he said, reaching out and giving the hand a squeeze, and then letting go quickly.

“Can’t have the head chef breaking his arm,” Lisa said, her hand still out.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Dean, would you hold my hand?”

“We’ll both go over,” Dean said.

“Mm-mm. I’ll hold you up.”

Her expression allowed no argument. Unwillingly, Dean allowed her to loop their arms together, Lisa pinning Dean to her side and turning back to the game, calling out to support Ben as he went for a tackle. Dean stood quietly. He was having to lean down ever so slightly so that Lisa could keep his arm tucked under hers.

He tried very hard not to move. Just the smallest slide of his feet and he’d be over and he’d take her with him. Every muscle in his legs was clenched, forcing himself not to slip.

After just a minute or so of stiff silence, Lisa sighed.

“Okay,” she said, “you win.”

She let go.

––––-

And now Dean was forty-one years old and walking down a street in Lebanon, Kansas, on legs that still felt a little new. The cold air was harsh; he took in a deep breath.

He went to cross the road, and a car gave a screech as it swerved suddenly to avoid him. The driver made a few different gestures at him through the window, and Dean held up a hand in apology.

It was easy to forget that things didn’t part and make way on Earth like they had done in Heaven.

“Couldn’t fix that for me, could you?” Dean said aloud. “Not that I’m not grateful for the ticket home, Cas, but Heaven had its perks.”

Silence. Dean kept walking, with only the slightest slump to his shoulders and crease on his brow. Lebanon was wearing snow like a big white coat. Dean’s boots crunched in it when he stepped off the gritted path to let a mother with a stroller go by.

“I should probably stop expecting to see you round every corner, huh,” he said. “Been a week now. And I keep wandering around thinking you might show up just ‘cause I’m looking.” Someone passing gave him a slightly frightened look and a wide berth as he walked by, talking to himself. Just another thing no one had much noticed in Heaven: the prayers. Dean frowned, and ducked his head. Tucked his hands in his pockets.

He walked quietly for some time.

Long enough for his hands to come back out of his pockets, and his shoulders to lose their self-conscious hunch. Long enough for the hurt in his eyes to seem nearer the surface.

“Might not even have been you that got me out of Heaven,” Dean said, his tone quiet, as though picking up the thread of a half-finished conversation.

A pause, in which he walked. Passed by other people, made no eye contact. Dean meandered a little as he went, as though his mind were elsewhere.

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” he said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me,” he said. The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

He swallowed.

“It feels like I have to do something, though.”

He kept walking.

“Or, I don’t know. Maybe I just want to.”

He breathed out.

Emotions were crossing his face, too fast to catch one alone, too swift to parse. He looked down at his feet, watching where he stepped.

“If I had what I wanted,” he said, “you’d be here.” After a pause, he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s news to you. Like, wow, right? Not as though I’ve ever asked, after all.” Another silence, and then he said, “But you know, I – it’s not that I just want to… fix it, or… finish things off. It’s not… I’m not…” He pressed his lips together, smiled wryly. “Jesus. I hope you can’t hear this. I’m not making any sense. I’m just trying to say, I want you here, man. I want you here to stay.”

A little flicker of light seemed to touch Dean’s eyes.

“You could stay now,” he said, “right? You could actually stay. If you wanted to. And we could…” He stopped. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

A car drove by, and the child in the backseat stared out the window at him. Dean blinked back to reality.

“We didn’t have time to think about what we wanted,” he said into the quiet of the parking lot, when the car had passed and he was walking again. “All this time. Or maybe you did. But I didn’t.” He looked upwards, towards the iron sky. “And now there’s time, Cas, and all I’m thinking about is you.” He looked down. “I said that already.”

He moved on, stepping out the other side of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

“I remember you said that the… the thing you want, you can’t have.” Dean took in a breath and let it go. “I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t. Whatever it is, man, you deserve it.”

His feet carried him onward.

“You gotta be sick of hearing me talk at this point. But I just…” Dean’s eyes glanced over the snowy Lebanon street in front of him, and he crossed the road. “I just want you here. Maybe I should take a damn hint.” His voice strained, hurt betraying the attempt at levity in his tone. “But you said… I keep thinking back on what you said. About how you feel. And I, uh. You know. If you’d just let me…”

Dean lifted his hands, a little helplessly, into the air as he walked, as though wanting to give something invisible to someone who wasn’t there. He dropped them awkwardly, his expression creasing.

He was circling back around towards the mall, his footsteps pointing him towards home. He looked heavy, weary. The lines on his face were deep, and his eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.

The people around him paid him no attention. He was just part of the crowd. They swirled across his path and around him, irrelevant to him, not seeing him. Except –

Dean came to a sudden stop. His gaze sharpened.

Twenty feet away from him, standing completely still, was a figure. Not struggling with carrier bags or strollers or wallets and keys like the other shoppers going into and out of the mall. Utterly stone still.

Tall, almost as tall as Dean. Wearing a long coat. Brown-haired. Impassive.

Watching Dean as though waiting for him.

And Dean visibly blossomed. His mouth fell slightly open, his shoulders loosened, one hand reached out unconsciously.

“Cas?” he said, disbelieving – and Dean saw a slight smile appear on Castiel’s face, and the angel slightly raised one hand in greeting.

Warmth touched Dean’s eyes, rising up as though from a great depth. He began to move, at first taking care on the slippery sidewalk. But his feet hurried him, and he was walking fast and then he was almost running, caution forgotten, eyes on Castiel’s.

It was when he was only a few steps away that his foot hit a patch of black ice. His arms went out, struggling to balance him – Castiel moved forward, one hand out – Dean reached for him on instinct, grasping his arm, his body relaxing in obvious expectation of Castiel being able to pull him upright –

But Castiel’s weight tilted along with Dean’s, and the ground gave them both a hard and cold welcome. There were some muttered ooohs from people passing by, and a few of them came to awkward stops nearby.

Dean landed hard on his back, head hitting the cement. He stared for a moment up at the sky. It had all happened very fast.

He sat up, and saw Castiel kneeling beside him, inspecting his own hands.

“Fuck,” Dean said. He put a hand to the back of his head. No blood.

“Are you okay?” said someone behind Dean, and he waved them off.

“All good,” he said, seeing in his peripheral vision that the people who’d stopped to look were moving on. He looked at Castiel. “Are you… you’re…”

Castiel stopped staring down at his hands, and looked at Dean instead. His blue eyes searched Dean’s face. Under his gaze, Dean smiled – a smile that grew on his face from a tiny brightness in his eyes until his whole face was alight with it.

“It’s you,” he said. "Damn, Cas, it's really you."

“It’s me,” Castiel confirmed. His voice held a recognition of Dean’s smile, a reciprocal warmth.

“You’re here.”

“I heard you,” Castiel said.

“You heard me? Just now?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. He was breathing a little fast. His gaze searched Castiel’s face, partly seeming to be looking for something, partly seeming already to have found it. People were stepping around them to get inside the mall.

“It’s good to see you,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled too, at last.

“But you know,” Dean added, “you could’ve just appeared right next to me instead of a whole freaking mile away on a slippery sidewalk. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Ah.” Castiel, still on his knees beside where Dean was sitting, dropped his gaze. “That was, in fact, not under my control. Jack sent me down here. After I asked him to do something for me.”

Castiel looked down at his hands again, and this time Dean looked too. His expression broke into slight surprise when he saw red on Castiel’s palms, at the sight of the blood – and then the surprise came in a second, deeper wave, as realisation hit.

“Cas,” he said.

“Just a graze,” Castiel said calmly.

“But you – you’re – that’s not supposed to happen,” Dean said. He reached out, and took Castiel’s hands in his own, inspecting the little scrapes on the skin. “You can’t get hurt like this.”

“Well,” Castiel said, “I can, now.”

“But you’re…” Dean stared at Castiel, seeming suddenly caught in consternation.

“Staying,” Castiel finished for him.

Wide-eyed, still sitting on the sidewalk, Dean took this in. Something light crossed his face, then anger, then confusion.

“I heard you,” Castiel reminded him. Dean stared at him.

“What I said?”

“Yes.”

“About staying?”

“Yes.”

“And you… you want that?”

Despite the hustle of people around them, the crunch-crunch of their boots in the snow and the harshness of their voices, Dean and Castiel might have been the only two people in the world when Castiel said,

“Yes, Dean.”

“So, but – before, in the bunker, with the Empty, when you said – the thing – the thing you said you wanted –”

Castiel looked down at their hands. Dean’s holding Castiel’s.

Dean tightened his grip.

“Just that?” he said, his voice sounding thick.

Castiel said nothing, words seeming to fail him.

They stared at each other. Hands in hands, touching, Castiel bleeding. Dean didn’t let go.

“It’s yours,” Dean said roughly.

“You mean…” Castiel’s eyes were suddenly wide. “You mean that you…”

“Since pretty much day one. I just never thought you’d want that from me.”

The world moved past and around them. They didn’t notice. Castiel was radiating happiness in every body line, though he was unmoving. Dean was watching him as though afraid he might disappear in the space of a blink.

"Is this real?" he said. "My head hurts enough for it to be real."

Castiel nodded.

“You’re really staying,” Dean said.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

After enough time under the steadiness of Castiel’s gaze, it seemed finally to sink in for Dean – the truth of it, the reality of it. Dean breathed out.

He swallowed. He looked down.

He smiled.

“We should get home, then,” he said.

Castiel didn’t say anything, but he gave a nod made small by emotion.

“Oh. I’m sorry, though,” Dean said, his eyes catching on Castiel’s small injuries now that he was looking down again. His thumb lightly touched the place where blood was drying on Castiel’s palm. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have run at you.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said, getting to his feet and pulling Dean up with him, their hands not letting go.

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel said, his blood on Dean’s hands, and still holding them. “Don’t be.”

#whelvenwingsfic #destiel #destiel fic #WELL HERE SHE IS #I'll reblog in a sec with the ao3 link because tumblr hates external links #also thank you so much to sammich for beta reading this ah #also if anyone's asking if i intend to be extra #and keep making banners for even little fics that i post #the answer is YES FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE #because what is more calming than photoshop and a podcast

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