#but come on dean knew what he did was wrong and regretted it but sam was so blinded by his rage he killed his own niece to spite dean

[whimsyfinny]

How to Avoid the Love of Your Life

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) had spent the last four years of her life avoiding him, but when her and Dean inevitably cross paths again it could go one of two ways - either really good, or really bad.

Warnings: Language, angst (so much fucking angst I'm sorry), Smut, PinV, Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Overstimulation, Dean being a sex God, reader being anxious, bad breakup, reader having a gun

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 8200 (wtf I'm sorry I got carried away)

A/N: Here it is! I'm sooooo sorry @jackles010378 that this took so long. I would've had it up last week but my kid got sick and I had to learn how to solo parent hahaha. Anyway, this is the final competition oneshot, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A voice that I knew all too well reached my ears through the crowd of people in the bar. The deep tone of his voice immediately brought goosebumps to my skin and a small smirk to my lips. I straightened where I stood besides the pool table, lowering the cue and leaning on it lazily as I turned to the direction the voice had come from.

“Dean Winchester,” I let my eyes travel over his rugged form; taking in the faint new scars on his face, his weather-beaten jacket and distinctive choice of plaid and denim. He looked virtually the same as he did when I last saw him four years ago - just older. His eyes now holding more haunting memories than any man should ever have to keep locked away in the depths of ones mind.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with the tilt of my head as he took a step closer, ignoring the bustling of people trying to get past him to order more drinks.

“You know why we’re here,” he pushed his hands into his pockets as he took another step, slowly creeping closer.

“Hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my beer and taking a sip, letting the bitter bubbles sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing them down.

“So, I take it this has nothing to do with coming for that falsely promised personal visit, and all to do with the pack of werewolves that have moved in across town?” I jabbed the beer bottle in his direction, feeling the smile on my face lose its warmth. Dean sighed and looked at his boots, and when he’d pondered on his answer, ready to verbalise it, I cut him off.

“Jody has been doing her fucking best to keep shit safe around here with the skills you taught her. The least you could do is check in a couple of times a week - visit once a month.”

“Listen sweetheart-”

“I don’t need to hear how you saved the world five hundred times this week. I don’t need to hear it second hand from other hunters. I need to hear it from you. She needs to hear that you’re ok. We all do.”

Dean looked up, his eyes meeting mine, clouded by a regretful shadow.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. Life has been so fucking messed up and sometimes I don’t even know what fucking month it is. I’ll do better. Me and Sam - we’ll be better.”

I stared at him intently, reassuring myself that he wasn’t saying ‘he’d be better’ if he didn’t mean it. He’d fed me empty lies wrapped in colourful silk in the past and I’d unwrapped every one with a hopeful heart, disappointment following every single one of them. People live and they learn, and I was no exception.

“If you’re not better, for Jodys sake - for Claire and Alex and even Donna - then I will never forgive you.” I stared at Dean long enough to feel the frustration towards him start to simmer in my veins, reminding me why I did what I did all those years ago. I was willing to endure him for my family’s sake despite hating that stupid pedestal they’d put him on - hating how in their eyes, he could do no wrong.

If only they could see him through my eyes.

The sound of long-strided footsteps and a familiar voice exclaiming “oh shit” snapped me from my festering thoughts, and I looked up to see Sam walk up and stand next to Dean.

“Sam!” I smiled, his face the picture of apprehension as he nervously smiled back.

“H-hey (Y/n), it’s been a while. I’m surprised to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked around the room incredulously before locking eyes with him again.

“Surprised to see me? Drinking in a bar, in my hometown? Where you guys know that I live? I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it.”

Sam shifted nervously, like he wanted to whisper something to his brother or simply whisk him away to a booth where they could sip beers, work a case and ogle waitresses. I sighed out a mentally exhausted breath - the presence of the Winchesters flooding my mind with memories of a better time - a simpler time. Dean was right about one thing - that life was messed up.

“Look, I’m clearly keeping you boys from your secret club meeting. I promise to behave if you do too,” I eyed them, waiting for them to accept the proposal of peace. Sam nodded, offering a few lacklustre words of poor convincing whilst Dean just stared at me, his lips twitching into a slight smirk, his eyes swimming in defiance.

“You’ve never been one to behave yourself, have you? Let's see how long this lasts.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

Sam pulled Dean away before any more weaponised words could be fired, Deans lips forever holding that slap-worthy grin as he eventually turned his back and headed to the other side of the bar.

For the whole evening I could feel eyes on my back and a prickle on my skin. No matter what I did or how much I tried to distract myself - I was so hyper-aware that the Winchesters were sitting at a table just across the room. Every time I turned my back or walked to the bar, I could feel myself scrutinised under an unwanted observation. As I politely turned down the offer of a drink from a handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I reached to answer it, my palms growing sweaty when I saw the name flash on the screen.

“Hey Jody,” I fought to keep my voice steady, my previous frustrations starting to bubble to the surface again.

“Hey (Y/n)! You’re never going to guess who’s in town!”

My teeth immediately clenched and I shot a glare over to where the brothers were sitting, watching Dean tuck his phone back into his pocket and drop his head into his hands.

When I failed to utter a single word at Jody’s excited proclamation, she instantly caught on.

“Oh shit, you know already, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I feel like I spoke at him, which counts I guess.”

Despite knowing my inner conflictions, she chuckled slightly.

“You give him a piece of your mind?”

“Yup,” I sighed, running a hand over my face, “I think I’m going to have to keep my distance from him, Jody. Just seeing him - looking at him after all these years - it hurts. It fucking hurts and he doesn’t realise how much he messed me up with everything that he did and said,” I could feel that all too familiar burn in my eyes as I fought desperately against the tears; biting my lip to stop it from trembling. When I gave my emotions away with a not-so-discrete sniff, Jody’s more sympathetic side emerged.

“Aw sweet girl, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to come and get you?”

I shook my head despite knowing she couldn’t see me and wiped away a rogue tear.

“No it’s ok, I think I just need to be alone. Plus I know you - you want to spend some time and catch up with them, which is fine and I get it. It’s just not something I can be there for right now,” I lifted my head and looked through the crowd of people, watching how Sam talked to Dean and Dean fiddled with his beer bottle again. I looked down before he could see me, though I knew he would be able to pick me out of any crowd anywhere within a matter of minutes. I hated that he knew me so well.

“If you’re sure, you know where we are if you need anything.”

“I know, thanks Jody. And… I’m sorry for making this so complicated for you. I know you have no reason to hate him, and I don’t like putting you in the middle like this.”

“(Y/n) I get it sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for. Just…” she paused, as though debating if her words were worth saying.

“Just what?”

“Just don't do anything stupid,” I could hear the slight amusement in her voice despite her words of caution. I chuckled slightly, wiping away another tear.

“You know me - I can’t make that promise. Bye Jody, see you later.”

After the farewell I hung up the phone, deciding some fresh air would help me to cool my head.

I'd barely taken five steps out the bars entrance and into the parking lot when the harsh sound of rowdy chatter drew my attention. Snapping my head towards it, cold blood filled my veins at the sight in the shadows - the gut wrenching sight of a small group of men huddling together and attempting to steal a car.

To steal Baby.

The cold sensation of dread quickly transformed into the heat of fury as my blood started to boil at the sheer audacity of the thieving group, now doing their best to stay out of the glow of the street lamp. They were lucky it was me that had found them and not Dean, as the latter would have dropped every single one of them by now and not left a soul breathing. I know Dean and I no longer had any sort of relationship, but when we did, this car had been witness to every moment. Baby saw every smile, laugh, and happy tear shared between Dean and I, along with petty lovers quarrels and raw moments of lust filled passion. I'd lost count of how many times we'd steamed up those back windows since we were teenagers and Dean stole the car from his old man for our first date. Then there were the long rides from case to case - Sam and I arguing over who rode shotgun - with Metallica blasting from the speakers, windows rolled down and the wind wisping every worry away as we belted our lungs out. Those were the best moments of my life. In that car. And I'd be damned if I let some dive bar fuckheads steal her.

With zero hesitation I pulled out the gun tucked into my boot and fired three warning shots to the sky before aiming my piece at them, wary that they might also be packing.

“Get away from the FUCKING car - NOW!”

The anger in my voice was a deadly warning as the group turned to me like rabbits in the headlights before turning tail and bolting - one of them dropping a hefty crowbar in the process. As I lowered my gun when they fled, I turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps thumping on the gravel behind me.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean had arrived at my side before Sam and he reached to rest a hand on the small of my back; guided by muscle memory. I turned to face him, a small crowd gathering outside the bar to witness the fleeting commotion. As Sam arrived I explained, my voice harbouring a slight tremble of adrenaline and frustration.

“Some assholes tried to steal Baby-”

“WHAT?!” Deans voice filled with horror, yet his hand remained on my back.

“But you- you're ok right? They didn't hurt you?”

“What? No, I'm fine.”

With my confirmation he withdrew his hand and doubled over, resting his palms on his knees and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ugh thank fuck - you scared the shit out of me.”

Sam, who appeared shortly after Dean, patted him on the back and flashed me a split-second grin, the glint lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I don't think I've seen Dean move so fast - like… ever.”

I couldn't stop the soft, airy laugh leaving my lungs, a memory flooding my mind.

“I think the fastest I ever saw him move was when we used to hunt with your dad, and Dean took the car without permission. John ended up stranded at that god-awful motel for six hours after we accidentally fell asleep in the layby-”

“Oh god, was that the motel with those raccoons?” Dean stood up straight, the memory seeming to light up his face as he looked me straight in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Yes - oh my GOD those raccoons were awful,” I started to chuckle and I could tell Dean was holding it in.

“Raccoons?” Sam asked, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. I opened my mouth to explain but Dean beat me to it.

“In every corner of each room there was a taxidermy raccoon, however the person who taxidermied them obviously had no idea what an actual raccoon looked like.”

“Most of them had eyes that were too close together and their bodies were way too long - like some sort of ferret-raccoon hybrid,” I chimed in, the memory bringing warmth to my chest at the comical idiocy of it all.

“I remember dad turned his so they faced the wall and away from the bed,” Dean let out a small laugh, managing to pull one from Sam as well as we slowly made our way over to the car, my gun returned to the holster in my boot.

“I'm pretty sure that was the first and last thing that ever gave John Winchester genuine heebie jeebies,” I looked up at Sam's disbelieving expression.

“And your brother hid his in the bottom of the closet.”

Dean grimaced before chuckling again.

“They had tiny little ferret-raccoon buttcheeks.”

“Oh god yeah, they were so prominent.”

“So prominent.”

Stepping up to Baby, Dean gave her a thorough once over, running his large hands gently over the places most likely to have laid victim to the crowbar. After three laps and continuous scrutiny, he deemed her unharmed.

We stood together for a moment in silence, the conversation having bled out, leaving nothing but our prior heavy tension and my own dwelling sorrow. I looked up at them both, my gaze lingering on Dean.

“Look, I need to go. I can't- I can't be around you right now, Dean. I'm glad Baby is ok and I…” I sucked in a breath, steadying my voice, “I wish you all the best. Both of you. Stay safe out there.” with my final words I spun on my heel and left.

The motel room was pitch black save for the small box TV flickering in the corner, the original Ghostbusters playing through blown out speakers. I sat in the middle of the couch rocking baggy plaid pj pants and an old band t-shirt (likely Deans, much to my own dismay). With criss-crossed legs and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, I attempted to wallow, Rory Gilmore style, over a man who I would never fully get over. Mine and Deans relationship had ended years ago, yet here I was, the wound still as fresh as the day it was inflicted. Most days I get by, and sometimes even forget the pain he caused me, allowing me to feel light and almost normal. But seeing him in the flesh, catching the scent of him and hearing his voice had turned my defences to ash. I felt exposed and raw, my heart practically on a silver platter ready for another round of being ripped to pieces. I thought I would be able to handle it if I ran into him. I knew deep down in my gut that it would happen eventually, that it was unavoidable given my living arrangements. That he would likely come and visit Jody and the others, and I would have to pretend that everything was ok - that my heart wasn't still breaking over him. I'd avoided him for this long, always able to find the perfect excuse to not be around when he showed up. It was about time the avoidance streak ran it out.

The sound of his laugh earlier this evening had tightened every muscle in my chest, reminding me of every blissful moment we'd spent together - obsessed with each others company and craving nothing else on this fucked up Earth. His smile had made me want to weep, knowing I no longer got to wake up to it every morning or let it be the last thing I witnessed before sleep. The smile that got us both into so much trouble, both as teenagers and adults alike. The smile that always made arguments feel absurd half way through. No matter who I encounter in life or how many people God throws at me in an attempt to fill the void left behind by Dean, it's an incurable hole in my soul that can never be healed.

I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth as I watched the movie unfold - desperate for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to reach through the screen and devour me along with my melancholy attitude. Too preoccupied with the film and the strange attraction I seemed to be harbouring to men in boiler suits, I almost missed the low rumble of an engine pull into the motel parking lot outside my room. An all too familiar engine. My ears pricked before reality dawned, the blood draining from my face.

“That son of a bitch.”

I scrambled off the couch and ducked behind it, popcorn flying, knowing all too well that he'd come peering in through the gaps in the blind - which my dumbass had left open so I could watch the rain. Heavy rain and self pity went together like jack and coke after all.

There were a few breaths of silence after the squeak and slam of the impala door, and I thought maybe I'd gotten away with it. Perhaps he was staying in a room further down? Fate was forever against me though when there was a loud knock on the door. I flinched, anxiety dampening my palms as I tucked my knees into my chest and held my breath, praying to Chuck himself that Dean would leave. That he'd convince himself that he was making a reckless decision by being here, or that he had the wrong room. I almost jumped out of my skin when he rapped on the window and his voice boomed through the pattering of rain and static-y TV audio.

“I know you're in there (Y/n), now open the door.”

Even if I'd wanted to move, the ability to do so had fled my body, my muscles petrified at the thought of confronting him. I jumped again when he hammered on the door this time, the cheap wood rattling on its hinges.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)! Your truck is parked outside and I can see your hunting gear on the table. Open the fucking door!”

“Go away!”

“Not until you let me speak to you!”

“No!”

There was a loud THUD as his boot collided with the door and I heard him growl in frustration. I could just picture him pacing in a circle, running a hand through his hair.

“(Y/n)-”

“Please, Dean, just… just don't. I can't look at you.” I felt my voice shrink as I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, unsure if he caught my words. He did.

“What- why not?” His voice was a wretched mix of desperation and confusion, cracking between words.

I was quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang thick in the air before I pushed myself to my feet, instantly missing the comfort of the upright foetal position. I wandered over to the door, my fuzzy-socked feet padding on the thread-bare carpet.

“Because,” I leant against the wood, my heart aching at the thought of him being so close yet so devastatingly untouchable, “if I open this door I'm going to undo all the progress I've made with getting over you, Dean.” His name was bittersweet as it slid off my tongue. The quiet sound of Dean sucking in a breath hissed through the gaps in the wood.

“Please, sweetheart. I need you to open this door.”

The softer tone of his voice made him infinitely harder to resist, but I had to stand my ground.

“Dean, you know I can't,” my eyes burned as the tears started to well, my voice objecting to my words with a pitiful rasp.

“Yes you can,” he paused, “you have to, otherwise I'm going to kick this piece of shit down.”

My eyes flew wide.

“No-no Dean-”

“Stand back.”

“Don't!”

“Three…”

“Stop-”

“Two…”

“Dean-”

“One-”

“Fine!”

I grasped the handle and flung the door open, my heart dancing with my stomach when I finally caught sight of him. There he was, soaked through from the rain and giving me that woeful Mr Darcy stare. The water droplets clung to his lashes and trickled down his cheeks, the breathtaking beauty of him erasing the pre-prepared sentence from my mind. Now, all I could think at that moment was to get him warm and dry. The noose around my heart tightened when I reached a hand out to grasp his, pulling him in out of the downpour. As the door closed behind him there was a pause, my quickly dissolving self restraint making it agonising to be in his presence. And Dean seemed to know that, yet he remained.

“(Y/n)-”

“Don’t,” as the cold water started to pool around his boots, I paced over to the bathroom, quickly emerging with a fuzzy towel in hand. I passed it over to him slowly, treating him like a wild, unpredictable animal that could pounce at any moment. He took it gently from my grasp, his fingers softly brushing mine. His skin was cold and damp from the outdoors. We stood in silence for a few moments whilst Dean dried his hair as best as he could, shortly after shrugging off his jacket to hang on the dining chair beside him. As he continued to ruffle his hair dry, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why are you here, Dean? What do you want?”

He lowered the towel and hung it with his jacket, sighing from the pit of his stomach.

“Me and Sam went to see Jody and the others. I was hoping to run into you again - I wanted to talk to you. But when you didn’t appear, Jody said you’d checked out for a few nights - said you wanted to be away from the house when… uh…” his voice faltered and something akin to guilt flashed in his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence he leant on the table, staring intently at the pile of hunting gear I'd dumped there.

“When you arrived,” I finished it for him, “Yeah, that’s right. And I told  her not to tell you where I was.”

“She didn’t,” he stood up straight again, holding his hands up, “I knew you wouldn’t have gone far, so I drove around until I spotted your truck,” he admitted, gaze flitting down to the floor. More silence followed, the atmosphere thickening as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean,” my voice was small as my anxiety spiked again, the question ready to spill from my mouth though no matter what he said, I knew I wasn’t ready for the answer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me? You say you want to talk, but you’re the one who ended everything. You ended our decades-long relationship out of fucking nowhere. What could there possibly be to talk about anymore. It’s been four years.” My voice trembled and he clenched his teeth, looking away from me before setting his eyes back to the floor. He dragged his gaze back up to mine, and something burned deep in those evergreen irises that took my breath away. Yet he remained silent.

“You crushed me when out of nowhere you said we were over - that we had no future. That you couldn't imagine growing old with me, like we'd always talked about. You have no idea how much you broke my fucking heart, and then you just expected me to live alongside you in the bunker like nothing was wrong? In my own room, far away from you? Why did you think that I would be ok with that?” I felt the familiar drip of hot tears and they flooded down my cheeks and rolled off my chin, the dam I’d fought so hard to contain now bursting wide with vengeance.

“You think I wanted you to leave?” Dean spoke up finally, his voice deep and gravelly, like it always was when he was upset. “You don’t think that telling you that everything was over wasn’t the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do? That I was happy watching you pack your bags and walk out without so much as a goodbye?”

“You didn’t love me, Dean, so why would you have cared? You obviously didn’t love me the way that I loved you.”

He flinched, but took a step closer. 

“You think this is because I stopped loving you? (Y/n)... it wasn’t safe- you weren’t safe in the bunker. You weren’t safe with me…” his expression turned to one of pain as his brows pinched and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath. “I thought maybe if you just stayed in the bunker with little to no association with me, then it would be ok. I mean, I'd still get to see you, talk to you. Be in your fucking presence. I never expected you to- to…” he took another deep breath, his lungs almost stuttering. “I didn’t think you would leave.”

He never took his eyes off mine. I saw the years of hurt and heartbreak intertwine with glimmers of green and gold, the emotions I always knew he’d struggled to cope with were swimming in a pool of desperation and fear. On the outside, Dean Winchester was the strongest there was. He was an undefeated and undisputed leader of men. He was the King of hunters. The Alpha. The man who could make you wish you were dead. Yet here he was, wearing every vulnerable emotion on his sleeve as he stood before me with anxious breaths and fearful eyes. The sight made my heart break all over again.

“Dean,” his name was like a quiet prayer as he moved closer again, “I don’t think you understand…”

“Understand what, sweetheart?” the rasp in his voice pebbled goosebumps on my skin, and when he reached for a lock of my hair to twirl around his finger, I had to fight off every instinct to just throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent floated through the air and wrapped itself around my senses, and when I breathed him in the aroma of old leather and gunpowder went straight to my brain like a hit of cocaine. The pleasant hum from my chest was involuntary. 

“I don’t think you understand that… that…” I sighed a woeful breath, looking up at him and seeing nothing but a warm, expectant gaze.

“That I’m still in love with you.”

The finger Dean had looped around my hair froze in place and I heard him suck in a breath, his lips parting. He remained unmoving, as though every thought racing through his mind had taken precedence over his body. It was a moment before he blinked, coming back down to Earth. When he looked down at me, all of the desperation, hurt and heartbreak dissipated from his eyes and in their place was the blazing heat of hope, accentuated by a small upturned twitch of his lips.

“You do?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Before I could react Dean had scooped me into his arms and crashed his mouth onto mine. The urge to push him away and tell him to get the fuck out bubbled up inside me, however when his familiar taste graced my tongue, a taste that was home, every desire for him to leave evaporated. The years of being apart, of being unable to touch him had made every caress electric, no matter how feather-light. My hands had tangled in his shirt as he pressed his mouth harder onto mine, pulling him crushingly close. His embrace was almost suffocating before he gently slid his hands up and threaded his rough fingers through my hair, and I lifted my own hands to do the same. I took my time with the motion, reminding myself of what he felt like - not that the memory of him ever truly left. I remembered how the muscles across his stomach and chest felt hard beneath a soft layer of skin. I remembered the way they quivered at my touch, and how my touch always pulled soft moans from his lips. My hands crept up to take hold of his face, the familiar feeling of his rough stubble beneath my fingertips ever present, a reminder of how that rough stubble felt when it tauntingly brushed against other parts of my body. I cupped his cheeks, feeling my own tears dampen his skin. He kissed me in a way that said I’m sorry, a kiss that held four years of pent up emotions with a desire to be released. A kiss that I knew was designed specifically for me. Our breaths and lips became frantic, the pace in which we were now devouring each other was still not enough to soothe the wounds in our hearts that were so desperate to be healed. Dean pulled away and held my face in his hands, running his rough thumbs over the soft skin under my eyes to wipe away the tears.

“I miss you, so fucking much,” his voice was low, his words for my ears only - not that anyone else was listening.

“I miss you too,” I sniffled, resting my palms on his chest again and relishing in the heat seeping through his shirt.

He leant down and rested his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. The atmosphere shifted however when he dipped down lower and pressed a hot kiss to my cheek, then to my ear, and then to my neck - each press of his lips drawing a shiver from my spine. I gasped when he nibbled my pulse point gently and my hands flew to grasp the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, my nails dragging over his scalp. He groaned against me at the sensation, one large hand moving to grip my hair at its roots whilst the other slid to my hip - squeezing the soft flesh. A moan of his name slipped past my lips and it was like a switch was flipped as he pulled away suddenly. He turned to take a few steps across the room, attempting to put some distance between us. I stood, baffled for a moment, but when he turned back to me and his vibrant eyes were now black with lust, I almost knew what he was going to say.

“Do you really want to go there sweetheart? Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” he started making slow strides back towards me and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. 

“Yes,” my voice was more breathy than I’d anticipated.

“No regrets?” he was almost within reach again.

“No regrets.”

When his hands landed on my waist again, his frenzied kisses on my lips, I was expecting to be able to ravage him equally; but when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing I let out a shocked yelp. 

“Dean!”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest as he strode over to the bed and threw me down, the impact on the mattress knocking a breath out of me.

“I’ve not been able to fuck you sensless for four years, there ain’t no way I’m going easy on you tonight sweetheart.” I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he tore his top from his body. I barely got a glimpse of his rugged physique that I’d so terribly missed before he all but pounced, trapping me beneath him. My hands immediately clung to the tight muscles of his back, my nails digging in and drawing a hiss from his clenched teeth before his mouth pressed to my neck right below my ear.

“Do you remember how you used to scream my name?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to make you scream much, much, louder than you ever have before. I’m going to make all past encounters feel like a warm up compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.” I shivered at his words as his hot breath fanned over my skin. His hands were fast, desperately tugging on my pyjama pants to slip one inside the soft fabric, not bothering to remove them entirely. There was an urgency to his movements like nothing I’d ever seen, the air leaving my lungs on a gasping moan when his fingers grazed my underwear. He chuckled slightly, pressing a series of searing kisses down my neck to my collar bone. 

“Well, aren't you sensitive? How long has it been, darlin’? Since someone else touched you - since someone else made you cum?” The heat rose to my already flushing cheeks at his words and I tried to cover my face with the back of my hand. My attempts to hide were futile as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pinned my arm above my head. 

“Well?” he pressed, a smirk on his lips.

“Four years,” I all but squeaked. He thought for a moment before his smirk evolved into a widespread grin. “Don't let it go to your head, Winchester,” I did my best to bite out my words yet my voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. My head rolled into the quilt and my back arched when he pushed his finger against my clit through my underwear a second time, this time harder, more purposeful. His own breath was shuddering as he continued to plant hot kisses against my skin, the slight dampness from his lips cooling quickly when he pulled back to sit on his knees. My heart didn't know if it wanted to stop dead in my chest or palpitate itself into oblivion when he looked down at me. Dean eminated a dark, primal hunger, glazing his eyes with lust as he gnawed his bottom lip. There wasn't a part of me that he hadn't seen before, and despite my current lack of nakedness it was as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. He made a noise in his chest that seemed to roll up his throat, like a growl of approval as I lay like prey beneath him. Dean may be older now, but he was bigger. Broader. Larger. The years of saving the world and fighting every abomination in his path had forced him to bulk up most exquisitely. With my free hand I traced over the scars adorning his shoulders, chest and abdomen: some old and silver, some newer and pink. There were even a fresh few, still scabbed over, and he shivered at every gentle touch. His gaze, however, was unrelenting. Without uttering a word he yanked my pyjama bottoms from my legs and tossed them into the depths of the room, immediately doing the same with my underwear. Instinctively I attempted to pull my knees together despite him being planted between them and he laughed softly, dragging his dark eyes over my slightly squirming body. He clutched my hand that was touching his chest and pinned it with my other one above my head, leaning down to lift the hem of my t-shirt, to gather above my breasts with his teeth. A shiver tore through me as his hot breath dusted the soft skin of my stomach and ribs, perking my nipples instantly.

“I think your body missed me sweetheart.”

“Definitely not just my body,” I panted. He breathed over my lips for a moment, every possibility of tonight's endeavours flashing before his eyes before he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth moved slightly slower this time, like he was desperately trying to control the beast inside and make every moment count. To make every moment memorable.

“Do you remember Oasis Plains, Oklahoma? With that fancy house we borrowed?” His voice dropped an octave, eyes hooded as he recalled the memory.

“Yes,” I practically clenched, remembering the late night escapades from all those years ago. In my mind it was like yesterday - the way his lips felt on my skin, how his strong fingers bruised my thighs, and how he brought me to total completion no less than three times. His lips twitched up as he slid down my body and off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor. He roughly gripped my thighs and threw them over his shoulders before slowly, tantalisingly sliding his hands up the supple flesh to grasp my ass and pull my whole body towards him.

“I’m gonna make you lose your fucking mind, just like you did back then. Maybe I'll even beat that record.”

My eyes could've disappeared inside my skull with how far they rolled back, his mouth's quick descent over my most intimate area - a soft kiss placed just above my clit - had me gasping in anticipation. Without a second to gather my thoughts he pressed his next kiss to that bundle of nerves; the wet heat of his mouth sending a pulse after pulse of fire through my veins as I twitched at his touch. He was an expert. Every flick of his tongue was practised and calculated, knowing which way to swirl, to caress, and how much pressure to apply. It was only a matter of minutes before my hands plunged into his hair and I grasped desperately at the soft strands, feeling that tidal wave build, and build, and build before he daringly grazed his teeth over my clit and it sent the wave crashing down around me, my body arching off the soft mattress as I came undone in his arms at the mercy of his mouth. 

“F-FUCK- Dean-”

My limbs twitched as they relaxed on the come-down, Deans tongue softly tracing up and down my opening. Without pulling away, he spoke in a husky tone:

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how many times I've reminisced about you moaning my name like that.”

The breath from his words made me shiver, and I moved to prop myself up on my elbows. 

“Ready for round two?” His voice remained low, not waiting for my inevitable confirmation before slowly dipping a finger into my still-clenching walls. The moan that slipped past my lips pulled a groan from Dean, a second finger joining the first as they curled up to push against the soft cushion hidden in the depths of my core. He knew where to find it with zero hesitation - his fingers seemingly acting on muscle memory as he beckoned another orgasm from me. He coaxed it forward, my inner nerves dangerously sensitive as the pleasure began to pool for a second time. With every motion of his finger, again and again, I started to feel the coil twist. I was in two minds on whether to be mortified by how easily he could pull a climax from my very soul, or impressed by it. Either way, he had me teetering on the edge a second time before a single flick of his tongue snapped the coil and euphoria claimed me once more.

His name merged with the endless moans spilling from my mouth, my hazy brain struggling to differentiate the two.

“Shit, you taste so good baby. I could devour you all night.”

“I wouldn't stop you.”

He grinned.

“As much as I would love to indulge you, I need to fuck you. Now.”

He pushed on the backs of my thighs, urging me to centre myself on the bed before he climbed back over me. I could feel myself salivating at the sight of his broad shoulders flexing under his weight, his skin damp with sweat from being trapped beneath my thighs.

He leant down to capture my mouth again, a kiss fueled with raw, carnal desire as he struggled to hold himself back. He shuddered under my fingertips as I trailed them down his torso to his belt, hastily unfastening the buckle and top button of his jeans. It was a joint effort to push them off his hips and down his thighs, but that's as far as they went. The feral need to be inside me had consumed him, and I'd barely withdrawn my hands from between us when he lined up and buried himself to the hilt. 

The burn and stretch was immediate - knocking the air from my lungs as I clutched his solid biceps like a lifeline, my nails indenting his scarred skin. He had the common decency to stay still for around ten seconds before his self restraint diminished yet again and he withdrew slowly. I could feel the divine ridges on his length through the immense build up of my slick and his spit, and as he eased back in he dropped his head into the crook of my neck with a gasp and a groan. A large, rough palm glided down my thigh, goosebumps in its wake as he grasped beneath my knee to rest my leg on his hip. Another moan filled the air between us at the new angle, the top of his cock kissing the soft, sensitive cushion inside. His mouth was hot on my neck as his hips found a rhythm against mine - a rhythm that gradually increased in speed with the intense pleasure unrelenting on my over-sensitive insides. My next impending climax swiftly appearing on the horizon.

“Dean,” I pleaded, my eyes cracking open to look up at him through welling tears, “I'm getting close again-”

He lifted his head, that play-boy grin finding his lips as he saw the mess I'd become at his touch; the mascara-stained tear tracks smudging on my cheeks and the unruly sex-hair was always a good sign of a good time.

“I need you to let go sweetheart - cum for me. Please…”

His words were the cherry on the cake for my undoing yet again and I felt my whole body explode with pleasure and tense up around him. The third orgasm of the night had my vision blurring when he cursed under his breath at my contracting walls, yet he didn't let up. He fucked me through the mind blowing bliss, not letting me catch my breath as a fourth climax hit me out of nowhere, the torturous attack on my g-spot making me feel close to blacking out.

“F-FUCK- Dean- Please- I can't,” my voice was hoarse from the moans and ragged breaths ripping from my throat every other second and my whole body trembled, slick with sweat from both myself and Dean. Despite the death grip I had on Deans cock, every involuntary clench making my knees twitch, he still wasn't finished. His powerful thrusts stuttered slightly before he pulled out, causing me to suck a breath through my teeth. Before I had a chance to query his actions he flipped me with ease, landing me flat on my stomach, my face buried in the soft quilt. Much like before, he didn't wait for an invitation to push back in, the overstimulated nerves in my core sending a jolt through every aching muscle in my body. The deeper angle pulled a cry from my lips when he bottomed out, and if I didn't know any better I would've said that his cock was in my ribcage. Deans large, warm hands took up residence on the supply flesh around my hips, tugging them up so my ass was in the air.

“Shit, (Y/n), with a view like this I'm not gonna last much longer- fuck,” Deans words were strained as he picked up the pace again, albeit this time there was an urgency to his movements. A desperate desire to experience the same Earth shattering euphoria that he had hand delivered to me. With my face in the fabric I snuck a hand down between my legs, finding the pleasure of circling my clit both a relief and an amplifier for the scorching pleasure Dean was inflicting. It didn't take long for him to tear my hand away, only to replace it with his own - pulling noises from my lips that were a whole new calibre of erotic that I didn't know I was capable of. My moans had an effect on Dean, and the hand that was on my hip, that was kneading my soft skin with a bruising grip had shot forwards and planted beside my head, bracing his weight above me. I couldn't see him but I could feel his solid chest against my back, his head dipping down to place rough kisses against my shoulder, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there. I prepared myself for the bruises I'd find on my body in the morning - his firm hold on me would have been almost painful given any other situation. That's not to forget the biting and sucking he was now subjecting my neck and shoulder blades to - the sensation setting my skin ablaze. Deans strained breaths were a tell for his own impending end, with his hips losing their strong rhythm as he panted out laboriously. The sound of him on the verge of bliss, accompanied by every other agonising ministration performed on my body had me unravelling one last time; one hand fisting the sheets whilst the other reached back, my nails brushing over Deans scalp and toying with his short, soft hair. The fluttering of my channel around his cock was all it took to bring him to his long awaited fervid finish. I trembled beneath him as he groaned into my ear, the sound something primal, something almost unhinged. We remained still for a moment, waiting for the post climax clarity to come along and make us regret our decision. He pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from both of us at the loss of warmth and intimate contact. The simultaneous feeling of emptiness and relief was an odd feeling, as I know full well he’d ruined me for anyone else - no one in Heaven or Hell could compete with that. Not that I wanted them to in the first place. Every nerve ending in my lower region fizzled with overstimulation, yet I couldn't have felt more relaxed; more satiated. For the first time in a very, very, long time, I felt complete. 

Dean grabbed the towel he'd left on the back of the chair and used it to catch the evidence of our intimacy, the wetness cooling quickly on my thighs as I pushed myself to sit on my knees. I turned and looked up at him, watching as he stood beside the bed, eyeing me nervously. I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.

“What's wrong? Regretting the whole ‘No Regrets’ thing already?” 

He shook his head.

“Do you?” His voice held a crackle that equaled his nervous expression.

I shook my head. He looked down at his clothes on the floor.

“No, although I'm getting the impression from you that this was a one time thing,” he must've heard the disappointment when I spoke, his eyes flying up to meet mine.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you're picking your shit off the floor like you're about to leave, that's why.”

“You…want me to stay? I thought-”

“Did I fucking stutter when I said I still love you, Dean? Because I do, and it's all-consuming and to be totally honest, I never want to leave your side again.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks at my sudden proclamation. Deans grip on his clothes slackened, letting it all fall back to the floor. From the look on his face it was like I'd just declared him King of the world; like a light switched on behind his eyes and a smile threatened to spread across his face.

“Yeah?” 

I fiddle with my fingers in my lap, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Yeah-whoa!”

I didn't get the chance to feel bashful or embarrassed when Dean tackled me onto the bed. At first he peppered my still-damp skin with small kisses that tickled with his stubble, before placing his mouth over mine. I couldn't recall a time that he'd kissed me so softly, and accompanied by the gentle embrace of his arms with his fingers carefully threading through my hair, it was enough to bring me to tears.

“I've missed you so much,” my sniffles brought an almost relieved smile to his features as he pulled back and stroked my hair with overwhelming tenderness.

“I've missed you too, sweetheart.

So fucking much.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

One Big Family

Team Free Will 2.0 & Winchester little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

It was impossible, crazy, ridiculous.

But it was also happening. After over twelve years, the Winchesters finally got to see their father again.

It wasn’t what Dean had meant to wish for, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, especially not now, with what was happening in front of him.

You, his twelve year old little sister, were basically meeting your father for the first time. You were mere months old when he died, so you knew him from pictures only.

After everything had been explained to John, his first request had been to re-meet you. Sam had gone to your room to explain what was going on, and when he returned Dean and John watched as you shuffled along behind Sam, his jacket gripped in your small fists as you hid behind him.

“That’s her?” John breathed, and Dean turned in surprise to see tears welling up in John’s eyes. “She…she’s so big.”

“It’s ok,” Sam whispered to you, trying to coax you out from behind him. You peeked around him to see John getting down on one knee to be less intimidating.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted with a wide smile, and between his soft eyes and the way he said “sweetheart”—just the way Dean said it—you felt your shyness ebbing slightly as you stepped out from behind Sam’s legs.

“Hi,” you mumbled shyly, shuffling your feet as you approached John.

John reached his arms up slowly, hesitantly, as if waiting for your approval. You, never one to turn down a hug, gave it readily and melted into your father’s arms.

Dean had never seen his father smile like he did as he held you in his arms.

“It’s good to see you,” John said quietly as he pulled away. You didn’t seem to know what to say, so Sam spoke up.

“Honey, how about you show him your room?”

You lit up with excitement, snatching up John’s giant hand in your small one and practically dragging him towards your room.

“Ok, ok,” John laughed. “I’m coming!”

“I guess she’s warming up to him,” Sam chuckled to Dean after you disappeared with John in tow.

“We should probably join them,” Dean said. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

…

“Wow.” John laughed. “You’ve gotta lot of toys in here.”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Daddy bought me most of them, he’s really—“ you trailed off when you saw the look of shock on John’s face.

Sam and Dean entered your room before John could ask what you meant, and as soon as they came in you ran to Sam, suddenly shy again in John’s presence. You didn’t know how he would feel when he found out about the angel that was like a third dad to you.

“Hey, something wrong?” Sam glanced between you and John.

“Um, no,” John spoke up, recovering from his shock. “We were just catching up. Dean, can I talk to you?”

Dean nodded, and he and John stepped out of your room.

…

“Kid, did something happen?” Sam asked gently.

“I—um, I mentioned daddy,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes.

“Hey,” Sam coaxed, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “He’s not gonna be mad, ok? He’ll understand, you didn’t do anything.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Sam said with more assurance than he felt.

…

“What happened?” Dean questioned.

“It’s nothing, just…” John cleared his throat, and Dean had never seen him so hesitant. “I just wanted to know…does she call you two her dads?”

The question threw Dean a little.

“I…”

“Look, I get it,” John cut in. “She hasn’t seen me since she was a baby, it makes sense. She just, she mentioned ‘daddy’ and I…I was curious.”

Dean nearly cringed, but he kept his face in check. ‘Daddy’ was your moniker for Cas, and Dean wasn’t too sure how his father would react to the knowledge of angels.

“That’s a really long story,” Dean sighed. “I think maybe we should all talk about it.”

…

“So…angels,” John said quietly about an hour later. “And…the apocalypse?”

“Yeah, more than one,” Dean scoffed.

“And an angel, and the son of Lucifer are living with you,” John added.

“Jack,” you corrected with a smile. “He’s my big brother,” you added proudly. With the less-than-welcome greeting Jack had gotten when he entered the world, you had taken it upon yourself to make him family, and even though you were technically eleven years older than him, he always felt like a big brother to you.

“I see,” John said, smiling softly at you. “You three have been busy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sam said.

…

The four of you spent all day together, and John did all he could to get to know you.

You hit it off well with him, rambling non-stop about everything he’d missed, and he listened with wrapt attention.

You got to experience a lot of firsts with John—he gave you a piggyback ride, you had a pillow fight, and to cap it all off, the whole family sat down for one last meal. But all too soon, it was time to say goodbye.

The moment the boys found out that John had to go, they decided that you shouldn’t be around when it happened. So, at the end of the night that had ended way too soon, John pulled you into his arms for a final goodbye.

“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he said with finality. “These three dads you got here are raising you right, so you listen to them, ok?”

“Ok,” you promised through your tears.

“Hey,” John pulled back, framing your face with his large hands and using the pads of his thumbs to brush away your tears. “It’s ok, sweetheart. We got this day to remember, yeah? That’ll have to be enough for us.”

You nodded, leaning forward for one last hug. John reciprocated, squeezing you tightly.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” John breathed. Just as he was about to pull away, you stopped him with a tug on his arm and a gentle whisper in his ear. At your words, he smiled and picked you up, and Sam and Dean trailed behind as John carried you into your room…

Where John Winchester got to tuck his little girl into bed for the first time, kissing her head and wishing her goodnight. He closed the door with great hesitation, giving you one final, longing glance before shutting off the light and closing your door.

“You’ve got a good kid in there,” John said to his sons, no longer able to hold back the tears.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean smiled.

“You tell that angel friend of yours thanks for me, ok?”

…

You awoke the next morning to a quiet bunker.

“Daddy?” You began. “Are you back yet?”

With a flutter of wings, Castiel stood in front of you.

“Hello little one,” he greeted with a smile. “Yes, I got back last night after you fell asleep.” Cas grinned when you launched yourself into his arms. “I’ve heard you had quite the eventful day.”

You recounted every moment of the previous day with your father, and Castiel watched with a patient smile, glad that you got to meet John, even if just for a day.

“Well, after such an exciting day I’d say you need a lot more sleep,” Castiel said with a frown when he noticed the early hour.

“Can you tuck me in?” You asked shyly.

He smiled, “Of course little one.”

“You’re awake.”

The two of you turned at the sound of Jack’s voice in the doorway.

“I’m putting her back to sleep,” Castiel informed him.

“I wanna say hi to Jack first!” You insisted, jumping out of bed and running to hug Jack. He laughed and hugged you back tightly, before lifting you in his arms and carrying you to bed.

“Castiel is right, it’s far too early for you to be up, little sister. Get some rest.” He set you down gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, an action mirrored by Cas.

“Sleep tight, little one.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[scoobydoodean]

hot take ig but… dean wanting to contain jack was not cruel or even a bad idea…

first, it was not just dean’s idea. sam agreed, and cas had basically the same idea, just using the cage instead. but for some reason everybody ignores this!! second, containing dangerous people is what they always do. sam and cas have done so to dean. the s5 finale was all about locking up a dangerous powerful being. and there are other examples! third, jack was the most powerful being in the universe and had no soul meaning no ability to discern right from wrong. he was killing people! and they’ve always seen soulless people as dangerous. dean was willing to let sam die via the process of returning his soul bc he saw that soulless sam was not sam. and sam agreed!

like. yes dean was not handling the situation well, let alone gently, so i understand why sam and cas were frustrated. but his mother had just been killed (and ftr i do think cas was being kind of insensitive about it), and jack was still killing other people. dean’s allowed to be angry. he was being outwardly meaner, but sam was agreeing with him (he said a part of him wanted jack dead!) up until the point that dean actually agreed to kill jack for chuck.

idk i just feel like people really exaggerate dean’s actions in this situation especially in comparison to what sam and cas were saying and/or doing too. so i’m just wondering what you think of all of this? do you think dean was “right” or was he overreacting? or do you think the audience is too hard on dean (as always :/) about this? could this be another version of samdela effect? cause i feel like people misremember what the others were saying/doing in order to put more on dean…

also omg i just realized how long this became, so so sorry for the long rant!! if you can respond, thank you!

*opens my coat* would you care for some memes?

I will take your hot take and flambé it. When it comes to this subject, I don't feel inclined to be patient with fandom or carefully lay anything out piece by piece. I'm sick and tired of hearing about what a betrayal it was to put Jack in the box and how mean and evil and abusive it was blah blah blah cry me a river. I was there watching when that episode aired and saw how stupid everyone was about that episode in real time and it was annoying then and it continues to be annoying that almost no one seems to bother putting a single granule of thought into this episode or what Sam and Dean were thinking or what the stakes actually were. And yeah—it was not just Dean who did that despite the samdela effect hard at work causing people to insist Dean somehow forced Sam to go along with him when that categorically did not happen.

People act like Jack was just standing there shitting rainbows and unicorns out of his ass and Dean turned around and strangled him to death for it. What happened was Soulless Jack killed Sam and Dean's mom and then went off and turned someone into a pillar of salt for being an atheist and filled someone else's body with worms to punish them for not wanting to be turned into an angel. Then he showed up at the bunker trying to make nice in the most hauntingly emotionless way possible—calling killing Mary an accident and then in his next breath saying he snapped and killed her because she threatened to reveal that the manner in which he killed Nick was scary and disturbed. In other words—he made it very clear to Mary's sons that murdering her was not actually a fucking accident at all even while he was calling it one.

Jack: I know -- I know things have been bad. A-And, if it helps, I regret it. The accident. Sam: The -- The accident? Jack: What happened to Mary. She kept talking about my soul, t-that I didn't have a soul, and she kept pushing. Dean: Oh, so she made you do it. Jack: No, it -- it was me, but I didn't want this no-soul thing to become an issue between us. I guess I snapped. Before I knew it, it was all over. Dean: "It" being the accident.

So Sam and Dean tricked him (the most powerful being in all creation) into getting in a box and he sat in there for 10 minutes. Oh no. How horrible.

A lot of the stupid fandom response to this is rooted in the babyfication of Jack that ran rampant within fandom at the time and continues in many circles. I happen to like Jack, and when I say that, I mean that I actually like him, and not the fanon adultbabydestiellovechild the fandom invented who has the emotional and mental capacity of a two year old and can't understand the difference between right and wrong. The real Jack did understand, and the real Jack would be (and was when he returned) horrified by what soulless Jack did (and for more than just how it would impact him). Jack was always an emotional person who struggled to control great power, but he had a strong moral compass and he loved people. That Jack would never have subjected someone to the twisted biblical punishments soulless Jack did for the crime of not believing in god or in him???? That Jack would have thrown Dumah into a wall in a rage for the mere suggestion he kill people over their beliefs and said, "You're hurting people". That Jack also would have wanted Sam and Dean to lock him up to protect others.

Some of the fandom problem with this also has to do the soulless lore as a whole and the constant usage of Donatello as the "soulless people can manage" poster child. Which ignores not only soulless Jack's actual behavior and how deeply dangerous his powers make him, but... pretty much every other soulless person we ever saw in the series, from soulless Sam, to numerous victims of Amara who turned into raging murderers in season 11 after she ate their souls. Hell though—the same people who insist soulless Jack was some poor little baby who just needed gentle parenting probably also think there was nothing wrong with soulless Sam despite the fact that he watched his brother be assaulted multiple times and seemed to actively enjoy it. Just normal Sam things, right? Donatello is the exceptional soulless person—not the rule—and it's because it isn't in his best interest to make trouble.

The idea that soulless Jack could be molded was suggested by Cas, but he also (as you pointed out) ended up inquiring about putting Jack in The Cage, instead of the Ma'lak box (and after the Ma'lak box was destroyed, so it wasn't an option anymore).

Lbr—the misogyny also jumped out in this string of episodes. Countless posts one after the other about how stupid Mary was and how it was all her fault and Jack did nothing wrong. How dare she make Jack angry. God forbid. What a stupid, frail, illogical woman. She deserved to die long before that anyway because she was a terrible mother, right? I mean it was obvious this sort of nonsense would come from the fandom in advance, given how many people had meltdowns over Dean shooting Jack in the back (something that didn't hurt Jack in the least) to get him to stop strangling a black store clerk to death in 13.23. As always, the imagined frail little fee fees of the white adult baby that fans invented must supersede other people's lives. Jack should be allowed to throw whatever tantrums he wants and kill anyone he wants during them and in response, Dean should shush him and start singing lullabies and carry him to a rocking chair to nurse.

[justkending]

It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created. 

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me. 

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?” 

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt. 

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.” 

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare. 

He ignored him and rolled his eyes. 

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already. 

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately. 

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.” 

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs. 

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen. 

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets. 

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror. 

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself. 

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed. 

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips. 

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me. 

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage. 

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far. 

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside. 

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around. 

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way. 

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.” 

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands. 

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it. 

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it. 

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean. 

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself. 

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on. 

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders. 

He was in the perfect position for my plan. 

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him. 

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place. 

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it. 

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me. 

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it. 

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months. 

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold. 

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited. 

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him. 

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath. 

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off. 

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute. 

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly. 

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him. 

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them. 

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge. 

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better. 

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust. 

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.” 

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before. 

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.” 

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over. 

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game. 

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs. 

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him. 

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly. 

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs. 

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt. 

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.” 

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own. 

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back. 

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head. 

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure. 

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power. 

Two can play that game. 

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips. 

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect. 

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips. 

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit. 

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet. 

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me. 

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it. 

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately. 

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about. 

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed. 

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed. 

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled. 

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places. 

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up. 

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily. 

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered. 

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued. 

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.” 

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.” 

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.” 

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of. 

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier. 

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me. 

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.” 

“What side?” I looked up at him. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?” 

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back. 

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

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[winchesterwild78]

Hunters and Secrets pt 3

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (dating), Sam Winchester x Reader (friends), Eileen

Warnings: fluff, mentions of hunts, pregnancy

A/N: Last part of this short story. I hope you like it.  Things are just so crazy right now in my head, I needed to write. I truly appreciate all of your love and support with my writing. 

This is a short series I’m working on. Does not follow the Supernatural storyline. Inner dialogue in italics. This is a work of fiction, not a reflection of real life. No disrespect to anyone. 

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump 9 months*

You stood at the mirror and cradled your pregnant belly. Your son was growing quickly and Dean couldn’t be more proud he was going to be a father. Dean came up behind you and snaked his arms around you, holding you and your belly. “Hey sweetheart, how are you two feeling today?” “We’re good, Dean. My back hurts, but that’s to be expected at 7 months pregnant.” You smiled. 

Dean kissed your cheek. “Come on baby, let’s get you sitting down and I’ll bring you something to eat. Sam and Eileen are coming later today for dinner.” “Oh, that’s great. I can’t wait to catch up with her and see how the wedding planning is going.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe my baby brother is getting married.” Dean smiled softly. “Well, you better believe it. It’s only fair he gets to live happily ever after, you’re married and we’re having a baby.” “Yeah, sweetheart. We are finally getting our apple pie life.” Dean hugged you and kissed your lips softly. 

“Well, with a monster on the side.” You chuckled. Dean laughed his deep, hearty laugh. The one where his smile went to his eyes, you saw his teeth, and his head tilted back. You always loved seeing him laugh. 

*about 8 months ago*

You got pregnant not long after you and Dean got married. It wasn’t planned, but you both got drunk off your ass after a hunt one night and one thing led to another and a few weeks later you found out you were pregnant. At first you were terrified to tell Dean. He thought you were sick with the flu. You called Eileen in a panic when Dean and Sam went on a hunt and you stayed home. She came over with 3 different brands of pregnancy tests and she held your hand while waiting for the results. 

Since she and Sam got together the two of you became close. When the lines, plus sign and word “pregnant” all popped up you gasped and she was quick to pull you into a hug. You both cried and then reality set in. You had to tell Dean you were pregnant. 

When the guys came back from the hunt Dean knew something was wrong by the look on your face. Sam and Eileen excused themselves to the kitchen and you and Dean went to your room. 

You and Dean sat on the bed. Dean took your hand, “What’s wrong sweetheart?” He looked worried. “Dean, I’m…um…pregnant” you said barely auditable. Dean’s eyes went wide, “You’re pregnant?!” You pulled your hands back and fidgeted nervously. Looking down, you bit your lip. Dean lifted your chin gently with his fingers. “Sweetheart, look at me, please.” You looked at Dean and you didn’t see anger or regret in his eyes, you saw love and excitement. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”

Dean smiled and pulled you into his arms. “We’re having a baby. Wow! I have a beautiful wife and now I’m going to be a dad.” “You’re not mad?” You bit your lip. “Mad?! Why would I be mad? I’m over the moon.” He pulled you in for a soft kiss. 

*current day*

Eileen and Sam had come over to the bunker for dinner. Sam decided to move in with Eileen to give you and Dean, and the baby space. He felt it was time for the two of you to finally be alone. They lived not far from the bunker and were there more than away, so having them over wasn’t anything new. Since you were pregnant you no longer went on hunts with them. Eileen would go in your place while you stayed at home and did the research from there. 

You were sitting at the table in the library with your hand resting on your growing belly. You could feel the baby kick and you smiled. Dean looked over and watched your shirt move as his son moved and wiggled inside your belly. Sam noticed Dean watching you and leaned over. “So, how are you liking the apple pie life?” Dean smiled at Sam “Not bad, Sammy. Not bad at all. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.” 

Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, “you deserve this, you deserve to be happy.” Dean smiled and nodded. The conversations flowed effortlessly as the night wore on. It was getting late, so Dean insisted Sam and Eileen stay in Sam’s old room. 

Your eyes were getting heavy so Dean helped you up. You hugged Sam and Eileen, “Good night guys, I’ll see you all in the morning.” You looked at Dean with heavy eyes, “You coming to bed soon?” “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll be there soon.” He kissed your lips softly. “Good night, Dean, I love you.” “Me too, sweetheart.”

“Me too” that was as close to "I love you as you were going to get from Dean. Still after all this time, marriage and now having a baby he couldn’t say it. You sighed and walked to your room. You got ready for bed, brushing your teeth, changing your clothes, and trying to make yourself comfortable. You felt off tonight, more tired than usual. Maybe it was staying up later or being on your feet more today. Whatever it was, you were exhausted. 

Your eyes slowly closed and you dreamed the most vivid dreams of past hunts with Sam and Dean. You dreamed about hunting vampires, werewolves, djinn, and putting angry spirits to rest. The dreams played more like memories. You’d hunted all these things before so it made sense to relive it through dreams. Something just felt off. 

When Dean came to bed he saw how restless you were. Moaning in your sleep, face contorted in almost pain or anguish. When he saw you breathing heavily and tears streaming from your closed eyes, he decided to wake you up. “Hey, sweetheart, wake up. You’re okay. It’s just a dream.” Your eyes flung open and at the sight of your husband you sobbed into his shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe, it was just a dream.” He held you and rubbed your back. “Oh Dean, it was awful. We were on hunt after hunt and I couldn’t keep up with you guys. Then I was attacked and you couldn’t save me.”

“You’re safe, baby. I’ll always save you and our son.” Dean placed his hand on your belly. Dean held you tight as you both fell asleep. You don’t remember dreaming the rest of the night, but you could feel his arms around you in a protective hug. 

The next morning the four of you were awake early. Sam and Eileen were on their way to help a friend of hers with a case. You could tell Dean really wanted to go. “Dean, why don’t you go. It sounds like it’s a quick case and it’s not that far away. We (you rubbed your belly) will be just fine.” You kissed his lips. “You sure, darlin?” You shook your head yes. 

Dean went to pack a bag and get his stuff. Sam put his hand on your shoulder, “You know, this means so much to him.” You looked puzzled, “What does?” “You two being married, you pregnant and he can still hunt. It’s in his blood to protect. You’ve given him a renewed sense of purpose.” “Thanks Sam. That means a lot.”

Dean came back to the war room and dropped his bags by the table. He helped you stand so he could hug you. Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. He could feel his son kicking in your belly and he beamed with pride. You looked up at Dean 

“Please be careful and come home safe to us.” You pulled him into a kiss. Dean pulled back hesitantly, “I gotta go, baby. I’ll be home soon.” He grabbed his bags, Sam and Eileen hugged you and the three of them left. Leaving you standing in the bunker by yourself. 

You tried to busy yourself with any and everything you could think of. First you cleaned the kitchen, the bathrooms, your bedroom, and the library. Then you started organizing books in the library. When your back started to hurt you went to the “Dean Cave” and laid on the couch, watching tv. 

You quickly fell asleep and again had a restless sleep. Your dreams were plagued with visions of monsters, Sam and Dean being too late to save you, or you being too late to save them. The dream that woke you up with a scream was by far the worst. 

Sam, Dean and you were hunting a Djinn and Dean was taken. You were desperate to find him and save him, but Sam didn’t seem to listen or understand that Dean was in danger. Sam kept saying over and over that Dean was getting food and would be back soon, that you worried too much. “Dammit Sam! Something is wrong, Dean is missing.” You cried, begging him to help you. Over and over “Please Sam, help me….help me”. 

The sound of your scream woke you up and then your phone rang. You tried to steady your breath before you answered it. Looking at the caller ID you saw it was Dean. “Hello” your voice was shaky. “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” “Um, yeah just another bad dream.” “Oh I’m sorry, well maybe it’s the pregnancy causing such vivid dreams.” “Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask the doctor when I see them next. When are you coming home?” “I’ll be there tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “Yeah, just missing you. I love you, Dean. Hurry home.” “I will get some rest.”

You slowly got up and started to walk towards the kitchen. You were hungry. Walking in the kitchen you still felt like something was off. Something didn’t feel right. You weren’t sure if it was just you being alone or if it was something with the pregnancy. You made a quick sandwich, grabbed an apple and sat at the table. 

You ate your food and as you got up you felt really dizzy. Oooh I guess I got up too fast. Slowly walking over to the sink you placed your plate down. You called your doctor to talk to them about your feelings and dreams you’d been having over the past few days. She assured you it was perfectly normal and everything was going to be okay. “Just rest” she told you, “Your body is growing another human. It takes a lot out of you.” You thanked her and hung up. 

A few hours later you were feeling worse. More than exhaustion, it was like your whole body ached. Maybe you were coming down with something. You heard the bunker door open and Dean announce his presence. As you walked toward the war room you felt even worse. Dean saw you and ran over to you. “Hey, Y/N. Are you okay? You look like you’re feeling horrible.” “Yeah, I’m not feeling the best. My doctor said it’s normal, but it doesn’t feel normal. Something’s wrong Dean.” 

“Okay, I’ll call the doctor and let them know.” Dean said as he helped you towards the bedroom. “You lay down and I’ll call them.” “Dean, wait.” “Yeah, sweetheart, what is it?” “I love you, Dean, more than anything.” “I love you too, Y/N.”

Your eyes went wide. Something isn’t right, Dean doesn’t say that. You tried to get out of the bed and Dean stopped you. “What are you doing?” “You’re not my Dean, he doesn’t say that. Who the hell are you?!” You screamed with tears in your eyes. Dean crossed the room, “Sweetheart it is me. I thought it was time I said it to you.” You shook your head, “No! Something’s not right..something’s not right…” You collapsed in his arms.

The room went dark, but you could hear Dean and Sam. “Sammy! Get the hell over here. She’s hurt.” You heard Dean yell. You felt cold and your body ached so bad. “Come on, stay with me baby. Don’t leave me.” You felt his lips gently kiss your head. “Dean, I got it, we need to get her to the hospital.” 

Your eyes started to flutter open, looking around you realized you weren’t in the bunker. What?! This didn’t make sense, where were you? “Dean…where….am…I?” “Shh, I’ve got you sweetheart, just hold on. I love you so much, Y/N.” You smiled softly, “My Dean doesn’t say that, but I love you too.” “Dammit, Sammy. Help me! She’s lost too much blood. I can’t lose her!” “Dean..I’m so cold.” “I know, baby. We’re gonna get you out of here and to the hospital. Just hang on. We got him, we got the Djinn.”

Everything started to click into place. Sam, Dean and you were on a hunt. Hunting a Djinn. You had been captured, and nothing was real. You and Dean married, the baby, every deep desire was a sick twisted game the Djinn used to drain you dry. 

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at Dean. You slowly touched his face, “I love you Dean Winchester, now and forever.” Your eyes closed one last time and everything went dark.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2

[beansmack2021]

Scrambled Eggs (Pt. 2)

TW: Mentions of abandonment/neglect, screaming matches, not totally canon

Y/N is 15

She tried to pretend she couldn't hear her brothers screaming at each other. Warring with their words had always been their specialty when things went wrong. At least they were in the bunker, and not some dingy motel. If this were years before, she'd have to sit in the corner, drawing or doing her homework with some music playing through her headphones and try not to cry while they just went at each other in the tiny space.

At least now that Y/N had her own room in the bunker, the sound was muffled. She could still hear a decent bit of what was being screamed, but if she put her headphones on, she would be able to tune it all out.

She didn't want to tune it all out, though. She wanted to hear everything. She wanted to know why Sammy left her even more than Dean did. She'd strain when they'd quiet down for a moment or two. Sam's mumbled responses only seemed to make Dean angrier though, because he'd start yelling something along the lines of "she's 15! I don't care what the hell your problem was! You were supposed to be here! We made a deal!"

She knew what the deal was, even though they'd never said anything about it whilst directly before her. It was an unwritten rule: if something happens to me, it's your job to watch and look after Y/N.

Y/N decided she'd had enough of trying to melt into the walls to hear their conversation. She opened her door as quietly as she could, practically tiptoeing down the hall. Her brothers' voices became louder and clearer the closer to the library she got.

She'd caught the tail end of Sam's soft response to whatever question Dean had screamed moments before. "She looks like you, she acts like you. She missed you so much but it was like she didn't notice how much being around her felt like someone twisting a knife to me." Y/N's stomach plummeted. Her heart caught in her throat and tears welled up in her eyes. She'd chased her brother away and didn't even have to do anything.

"I don't fucking care what she looks like or what she acts like. It doesn't matter! She's our little sister, and she needed you and you fucking abandoned her. You're a coward, Sam." She sniffled, and both of the men snap their heads in her direction. She tries not to cry, but the tears come rolling down her face.

Dean crosses the room without saying anything, picking her up. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist, laying her head in the crook of his neck. She breathes deeply, taking in the smell of his shampoo, and noting that even though he'd taken a shower, she could still faintly make out the smell of dirt.

Dean put a hand on her back, whispering to her. "It's okay, peanut. I'm here." He hadn't called Y/N peanut since she was much younger. At the moment, though, she was frail and teary eyed like a little kid. "Do you want to go get some food?" She nodded at his offer and he started walking, refusing to put her down.

She lifted her head as they were leaving the room, locking eyes with Sam. He had tears running down his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted, and he emanated regret and self-loathing.

She didn't care. He left her.

She nuzzled her forehead back into the crook of Dean's neck, sighing in relief. She had her big brother back. She knew he'd never leave, at least not willingly.

[wormstacheangel]

Day 1: Family Reunion #spnadvent2024

Dean sat out on the deck, staring at the snowfall as the beer warmed up in his hand. Sam had decorated back here with twinkling lights across the whole place, a little winking Santa statue in the corner, and some other small Christmas decorations scattered around. He liked how the rocking chairs had big huge ribbons on the back, he was sure he saw that somewhere on Pinterest and knew that was all Jessica.

Dean was lost in thought, just one that bounced around his head like an echo chamber when he heard the click of the sliding door open and close. Muffling the Christmas music all over again but he didn’t look to see who it was. He didn’t need to. 

The chair next to him was quickly occupied and started to rock back and forth. Dean noticed the holiday socks peeking out from under the black dress pants and he couldn’t help but smile at those.

“Are you going to ignore me all night?”

Dean shook his head, eyes traveling back to the falling snow above him. “Not all night.”

He heard a low chuckle. “Not all night.” They repeated with a sigh before relaxing back in their chair like Dean was. 

They both stared up at the night sky silently for a bit. Letting the cold creep up on them for a little longer while Dean tries to silence the echo in his head. 

Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas.

“Cas.” He let the name slip through his lips in a low whisper but it was still heard. 

He expected a sarcastic response but all he got was, “I’m here, Dean.”

He turned to meet those sad blue eyes. “You sure are. Why?”

This was supposed to be a family reunion for him. He hasn’t seen Sammy since they were teenagers. Dean moved across the country for college, occasionally visiting for holidays, but then Sam went to study abroad and they lost touch until recently. Now they call every day and Sam’s back in Kansas, starting his life with his fiance, and ever since Dad died they became close. More open. 

Such as letting Sam know about his sexuality and his ex-boyfriend.

“Sam invited me.” Cas said casually. “Said you wanted to see me.”

He wasn’t wrong but still, “Why?” Dean repeated. He leaned forward on his chair, elbows on his knees as he scrapped the paper off the bottle. “I hurt you so much, Cas.”

Dean almost gasped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I knew it wasn’t you who said those words that night, Dean. I knew that you loved me and I love you so when Sam reached out to me I just…I had to come see you.”

Dean placed a hand on top of Cas’s own. “That night it was–I was so lost and my Dad just…I was a mess,” Dean looked at him again. “I’m sorry, Cas. Hurting you will always be my biggest regret in life.”

Cas smiled softly at him. Letting their hands fit together as they fell on Dean’s lap. “I found out later why you did it.”

Dean's face froze as he squeezed Cas’s warm gloved hand. “You do?”

“After your Dad died, I wanted to check up on you but knew that wasn’t what you needed right now. So I came by weeks after you left to check up on your Mom, we had lunch and talked all day. When I brought her back home she told me what happened with you and your Dad that night we broke up. You saw no other way…you protected me.”

Dean shook his head, gently letting the beer on the floor as he wiped his face. “You know that man never made empty threats and when he threatened you I just…I just lost it.” Dean brought Cas’s hand to his lips. “I lost you and myself that night. So I left again.”

“No goodbye.”

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me after that.”

“You’re probably right.” Cas chuckled. “Would have turned on the sprinklers on you.”

They both laughed before Dean stood up, leading Cas to the end of the deck where they could see the snow not stick to the ground. They faced each other, smiles warm and eyes still sad. 

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he slowly talked. “Cas, you deserve so much better than I could ever give you and now you’re this big important person but there hasn’t been a day that I didn’t love you. Even looking at you now,” Dean reached to hold Cas’s face gently in his hand while he still didn’t dare let go of his hand with the other. “I feel like that 18 year old that followed his best friend to college and fell in love with him.”

Cas smiled, turning his head just enough to kiss Dean’s hand. “Just spit it out already. We’re turning blue.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him in from around the waist and holding him close. Their lips are just mere inches away. “If it’s warming up you need, I got you.”

“Use your words first and then we’ll see.”

Dean could feel himself warming up as his heart hammered in his ears. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry for everything. I missed you so damn much, Cas. I love you. I lo–”

Cold lips pressed against his own. Warming him up so quickly it felt like he was on fire. But it was a burn he’ll gladly feel again. 

This time Dean wasn’t listening for the click of the door opening but he sure heard the Christmas music get louder and saw the flash of a camera go off. 

“And here we have what we like to call a Christmas miracle.” He heard Sam say as Cas pulled away from the kiss. They heard cheers from the family and another flash blinded them. 

“Oops.” He heard his Mom say. “Just needed another one for the family newsletter. I told your Aunt that I could get you two together again!”

“Okay! Okay, show over now!” Dean sent everyone back inside, before taking Cas’s hand. “You okay to come in?”

“Yeah,” Cas’s eyes sparkled this time. The sadness was gone. “Let’s get some hot chocolate.”

[monstermoviedean]

hey loving your commentary. I wanted to get your opinion on something about cas as a careful watcher. because as almost equally as frustrating I find him, I pity cas. I think I have a slightly more generous interpretation of Cas's intentions than you tho. I think each time he's landed in this situation he's genuinely shocked that he did it again and each time it's worse because each time he thought he tried harder. But I watched the show in a blur not taking notes or anything so that might just be a hc I'm projecting onto the story. Even if that's the case I genuinely have a lot of sympathy for how hard it must be for him to adjust his manner of being and so I was patient with this being a reoccurring problem. Maybe it's because Misha Collin's got so good at looks of painful regret as the seasons went on. Is this your first time watching or is this a rewatch for you? I'm curious what you think about cas and cas and dean during season 15.

i do want to be clear - i love cas. i have a ton of sympathy for cas. i am feeling particularly frustrated with cas right now in a way that i haven't at other points in the series, specifically because of the surrounding context. and i'm struggling between feelings of "cas never learns his lesson and everyone else pays" and "the writers don't allow cas to learn this lesson and keep falling back on the same plot point." (under the cut because it got long)

my context: in short, i watched seasons 1-7 back in the day, watched 8-10 live, watched 15x18 shortly after it aired and 15x19-15x20 live, and am now watching seasons 11-15 in full for the first time. but i know the big plot points and have seen quite a bit of discussion around the episodes i haven't seen. specifically i've seen a lot of discussion about how every negative thing that happens between dean and cas is dean's fault, which is generally something i don't agree with. so in part i'm coming in hot because i'm reacting to the difference between that interpretation and what i'm seeing on my screen.

and back to the show context: i'm feeling frustrated because i know where this is going in season 15. i know dean and cas are going to fight, dean will apologize and take almost the entirety of the blame for the hurt between them, and then cas will die sacrificing himself for dean, sealing his fate as "the guy who makes big sacrifices for everyone else and doesn't tell them." and i'm feeling frustrated that this jack situation is happening in part because cas made the empty deal and didn't tell dean or sam, and because cas knew about jack and felix and tried to "fix" it himself without telling anyone. (his plan for fixing it is also so indirect as to almost be laughable, but that's a different rant)

dean is being harsh in 14x18. no doubt. it's awful to watch. i can also understand where he's coming from, especially because 1) cas keeps doing this and 2) when dean tried to do something similar to what cas just did (execute the ma'lak box plan alone), everyone, including cas, eviscerated him for it. and while i don't think cas intends for things to go awry, and he does the "lone wolf" thing out of a desire to protect others, i think he does recognize what he's doing. he intentionally chooses to keep lone-wolfing, even when it has gone wrong before, and even when others (especially dean) have begged him to stop doing this and just tell them what's going on. secretly working with crowley re: the alphas and purgatory in season 6, running away with the angel tablet in season 8, working with metatron, building an angel army in season 9, running off with kelly and the colt in season 12. it's a lot. and this was kind of my last straw.

tl;dr this all just hit at the same time and compounded. i think/hope i'm usually nicer to cas. i do have a ton of sympathy for him but i find myself frustrated that he makes the same choices (even when people ask him not to) and is surprised by the same results.

[allthesmutl0vers]

The Fate Of Us: Sam/Dean/F!Reader/Castiel (Part Thirteen)

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💖

Masterlist

Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/F!Reader, Dean/F!Reader, Castiel/F!Reader, Dean/Castiel, Castiel/F!Reader, Castiel/Sam (Coming, I promise)

TW: Mentions of Wincest, Wincest (Kissing)

Chapter Thirteen

Sam

Y/n fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. I make my way out of her room and walk into the kitchen, where Dean is sitting with two beers in front of him. I don’t really know what to say to him now that it's just the two of us. I kissed my brother. My head still reels with that fact. I don’t regret it unless Dean didn’t want to, then I’d feel like shit. 

Does he regret it?

I pop the top off of my beer and toss it in the trash can, taking a long pull off of the bottle before finally setting it back onto the table. What do I even say to him now? Do I ask him if he enjoyed it like I did? I’ve known Dean was bi-sexual for years since he and Cas finally came out to me. But I never thought I was before. My head is swimming with questions that I can’t seem to find the answer to, and that’s not something I’m used to. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks me from across the table. 

Yes. A lot of things.

“No,” I shake my head, brushing off his question. I don’t want to be the one to bring it up. 

Dean sighs and leans on the table with his elbows. “Look, Sammy,” Dean sighs again. “We should talk about what happened back there. I understand if you don’t want to. If you want to, just forget about it,” Dean continues. “But I can’t.”

Dean’s pleading gaze gives me the encouragement I need to open up. After all, he is my brother. If I can talk about it with anyone, it’s him. I take a deep breath and lean back. “Did you want to do it?” I ask, hoping he did as much as I do. 

“I never do anything I don’t want to, Sammy. You know that,” Dean says seriously. “Did you?” Dean looks at me, biting the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s nervous. 

I suck my lips in between my teeth and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I wanted to. It’s just weird because,” I lean back in my chair. “I never knew I did until she asked us to.”

Dean looks slightly disappointed, and I can’t ignore it. “Yeah,” he says shortly. “Didn’t know until then,” Dean says, taking another drink. 

 “Dean?” I grab his attention again, and Dean looks at me. “Did you? Did you want to before now?” I ask him curiously. 

Dean sucks in a breath and looks off to the side. “Does it matter?” Dean asks solemnly. 

I reach across the table with a shaky hand and grab Dean’s. “You can tell me anything,” I reassure him. 

Dean bites his lower lip and holds my hand. “I’ve wanted to do it for years. Even before Cas,” Dean explains, looking down at our hands. “Ever since I can remember, it’s been you,” Dean says in a choked voice. 

I can’t help but feel shocked. For years? Ever since he can remember? And why does none of this information bother me? It should. He’s my brother; no part of this is right. So why doesn’t it feel wrong?

“Sammy,” Dean gets my attention. He holds my hand tight as he looks deep into my eyes. “I want you to know that we never have to go further. And we never have to do it again if you don’t want to,” Dean assures me, but he doesn’t need to. 

“Dean, I-” 

Dean shakes his head. “No, listen to me. You are my first priority. Before anyone or anything, that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it will always be. So you say the word, and we will never speak about it or do anything again. You understand me?” 

I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head. I know what I want. I know I want Dean. If only he could turn off the whole big brother thing, he could see it, too. I look Dean in the eyes and give him the only explanation I can. 

“Kiss me, Dean.”

Dean blinks a couple of times as if he’s trying to make sure he heard me right. When I nod, he doesn’t waste another second. Dean stands and walks around the table. He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. My heart flutters; it isn’t hot and passionate like it was in the shower. This kiss is slower, more meaningful, the kind of kiss that only comes after years of longing. 

I place my hands on Dean’s waist, my head tilted and lips locked with his. Dean hums into the kiss when I grip his waist tighter. It’s everything I could ever want, everything I never knew I needed until tonight. 

There is one thing I can’t shake, however. 

“What about Castiel?” I whisper against Dean’s lips when ours finally part. “I want this, Dean,” I reassure him when he steps back. “But what about Cas? What will he think?” I ask. 

“I already knew,” Castiel says behind me. 

I stand up hurriedly and spin on my heels next to Dean. “Cas,” I mutter softly. 

Castiel smiles and steps toward us. “I knew already. I saw y/n’s vision in the shower. I heard her words,” Castiel explains. 

“What?” Dean asks, just as confused as I am. 

Castiel smiles and sits down at the table. “Yes, I can see her thoughts and what she sees through her eyes.”

“And this isn’t information that you thought we should know?” I ask, trying not to be too angry. 

Castiel sighs and motions for me and Dean to sit down; when we do he explains. “I wanted to find out why she and I could, first. So, I went to talk to a few trusted angels,” he holds up a hand, telling us to let him finish. “When Chuck made her immortal, he used his grace and power to do it. And because of that, she is able to see what I allow her to see, and talk to me and Jack telepathically. Really, she should be able to talk to any angel telepathically. Maybe even Chuck.”

“Why hasn’t she told us?” Dean asks seriously as if he’s offended that she didn’t trust us enough to tell us. And I can’t say that I blame him. 

Castiel looks between us. “Because I told her not to until I found some answers. Until I did, it was a liability. If another angel, or a demon got their hands on one of you, they could easily find out. I had to find a way to hide her power from the other angels and find out why she could do it in the first place. Until now, it was a risk. I don’t even think Chuck knows that she can do it.”

I take in what Cas is telling me, and it makes sense. Am I still upset that they hid it from us? Yeah, of course I am. But if it keeps her safe, it keeps all of us safe, well… At least now we know.

“So, did you find a way to hide it from the angels?” Dean asks. 

Castiel nods. “I did. I can teach her how to block out all of the other angels instead of me. It’s going to take some work, but she can get there,” Castiel explains calmly. 

“What about Jack? You said she can talk and see him too if he finds out what Dean and I-”

“I told him to block her out unless it’s an emergency before we left Bobby’s,” Castiel cuts me off. “He doesn’t know anything.” 

“Did she know you could see what happened? Did she show it to you on purpose?” Dean asks. 

Castiel shakes his head. “No, she didn’t know. Angels can block other angels from the start; we’re made with that ability. But she is human, or at least she was human. I’m going to have to teach her to block angel radio, as well as block unknown angels that may try to access her mind. It might take a while. I’ve never done this before,” Castiel shakes his head. 

“So, um,” I clear my throat and turn to Castiel. “Are you okay with what happened?” I ask the question that’s been prodding my mind since Castiel told us he already knew.

Castiel smiles. “I’m okay with it. Dean is with me and y/n already. The more the merrier, in my opinion,” Castiel shrugs with a smile. “Technically, all the angels are brothers and sisters, and we’ve been fucking for eons.”

Dean chokes on the last of his beer, and I snicker, covering my laugh with my hand. “Alright,” Dean coughs and stands from the table. “On that note, I’m going to bed.” 

Castiel grabs Dean’s arm as Dean walks past. “Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel smiles and winks. 

Dean actually blushes and nods. “Night,” he says before walking off without another word. 

Me and Castiel laugh and shake our heads. “So, years, huh?” Castiel asks me. 

I shrug and finish off my beer. “Apparently,” I respond with a smile. 

Castiel stands and places a hand on my shoulder. “Do let me know if you ever want to be with an angel, too,” Castiel winks. “Dean and y/n aren’t the only ones who are interested.”

With that, he walks to his bedroom, leaving me dumbfounded. But I can’t say I’m not intrigued. 

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 11 | Coming of Age

changing my major | @demonmary

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,335 Main Tags/Warnings: AU: College/University, First Time, Fluff, Light Angst, Sleepy Cuddles Summary: College is supposed to change you, sure. Castiel knew that going in, he expected the typical experience of finding new friends and going through a short period of self-discovery that might end with a tattoo he’d regret later. He absolutely did not expect to be… here.

intricate rituals | @sharkfish

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,049 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Pre-Slash, Dean Winchester Has Realizations, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers Summary: “You contrive situations that allow you to touch other men, precisely because you won’t admit that you want to touch other men.”

Drag Can Bee For Everyone | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: General Word Count: 2,629 Main Tags/Warnings: Nonbinary Cas, Queer Dean, Married Cas and Dean, Drag Performer Cas, Parents Cas and Dean, references to homophobia, references to gender dysphoria, Fluff Summary: As Dean helps set up for the all age drag show his partner will be part of, he reminisces on how lucky he feels to have them in his life

Wrong Room | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13,611 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Strangers to Lovers, Sexuality Crisis, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Castiel, Implied Bottom Dean, Coming Out Summary: Since Dean is not the greatest fan of traveling for work he just wants to check into his hotel room for the night after a long day of driving and enjoy some peace and quiet. What he finds, however, is a naked man in his bed. It only spirals out of control from there.

Life Skills | @angelinthefire

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 26,052 Main Tags/Warnings: season 9, canon divergent, human!cas, F/M/M threesomes, light dom/sub, sub dean winchester, sub castiel, top castiel/bottom dean winchester, bottom castiel/top dean winchester Summary: After his grace is stolen Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human. And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

The Dream's the Thing (Wherein He’ll Catch the Subconscious of Our Dean) | @li-izumi

Rating: Mature Word Count: 30,073 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Season/Series 05 Canon Divergence, Cupid Marks, God Ships It, Dean in Denial, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Internalized Homophobia, Temporarily Female Castiel (Supernatural), References to Croatoan/Endverse, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean is forced to confront his feelings Summary: Dean finds himself in a crowded ballroom with only the sense that he needs to choose someone. In between this and other strange visions, Dean remembers that the Apocalypse is over. Sam, Bobby, and Cas are alive but going their separate ways. Dean’s dying. But if his supernatural death flu is the price for the return of his family, why does Dean get better around Cas?

[yet-another-deanw-girl]

Chapter 14: The Ghost and The Network

||The Prophecy Series||

She knew for 15 years that this day would come. She knew her destiny had already been written. That her death had been foretold.

She knew she would have to stop him. She knew she would have to kill him. And she thought she was prepared for all of it. But the day she met him she realized how wrong she was…

Set in Season 10

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Female!OC

Warnings: the usual SPN, language

Episode mapping: During episode 13 of season 10 "Halt & Catch Fire"

Note: The events of this story are following season 10 of Supernatural and are taking place between October 2014 and July 2015. I tried to make sure that all the references to weapons, tech, etc. are accurate with the time period.

AN: This is my first time writing a fanfic but the story has been in my head for too long and it just needed to get out. I hope you like it.

AN: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

"It's like I told the detective. I was drunk, but I wasn't hallucinating. The truck had a mind of its own." The college girl said "How so?" "Like, the air went full blast even though it wasn't on and the radio went crazy and so did Trini." "And Trini is?" I ask. "Ah, you have to excuse my partner. When it comes to technology, he's a little behind. Uh…he just learned how to poke on Facebook." Sammy smirks at me. "Uh, um, Trini is the nav app we were using. It..  It's like a talking map. You’re Gen X. Right."

"Alright, so big brother didn't get along with little brother, was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it." This case looks like a simple salt and burn.

Well… it's not.  It's a ghost haunting the Internet. How is this even working! The Internet! Awesome… Ema's expertise could be really helpful. All the tech and supernaturals combination is more in her alley. She would have had a really good and possible explanation and probably some clever solution, like… I don't know… like something simple and obvious… But she is still bound to the bunker… It's been almost 5 months.  How is that possible?  To know her for this short amount of time and to feel like I always have?

"I think about Andrew all the time. And I've never even met the guy."  I'm sitting with a college girl waiting for Sam's call. I didn't even bother to remember her name. She is full of regret about what happened to that guy.  "It’s pretty crazy to obsess over someone you've never met." "It's not that crazy." I try to reassure her. "The truth is, I can relate. I have made more mistakes than I can count. Ones that haunt me day and night." I confess. "So… how do you deal?" "Whiskey… Denial…" I laugh sadly. Yeah… I'm pathetic like that… "I do my best to make things right, whatever that may be. You can't just bury stuff like this. You got to deal with it."  I realize that I can't bury my problems too. I have to face this thing head on. No more running, no more denial, it's time to accept it.

Image from Pinterest

"Looks like Andrew wasn't the only one who chose peace." We are standing in front of Andrew's house looking at how his wife invites a stranger into her home so they can find peace together. "Yeah. Looks like…" I smile at the two women. "I think I'm gonna follow his lead, too." "What do you mean?" "My peace is helping people. Working cases. That's all I want to do." "Is this about The Mark?" Sam asks me with worry in his voice. "I'm done trying to find a cure, Sammy." I finally admit to my brother. "Dean, Cas is so close." "To what? We don’t even know if there is a cure. So far, we've got nothing. We have found nothing at the Men of Letters library. Metatron may or may not know something. And maybe… Cas is on to something with Cain. Maybe…" "Yeah, maybe! Nothing is guaranteed, Dean. So what? We can't just stop fighting." Sam tries to reason with me but I'm done with all of this false hope. Now I can understand Ema. I can understand why she is not fighting… why she is just looking from the sideline. "Yes, we can. We already have the solution back in the bunker. You may not like it. But it seems like Emilia was right." "So, this is it? Y… you're just gonna… you're just gonna give up." "No. No, I'm not just gonna give up." I'm desperately trying to explain myself, trying to make him hear me, trying to make him understand.  "I appreciate the effort, okay? I do. But the answer is not out there.  It's with me.  I need to be the one calling the shots here, okay? I can’t keep waking up every morning with this false hope! I got to know where I stand. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose my freakin' mind. So I’m gonna fight it until I can't fight it anymore. And when all is said and done… I'll go down swinging. But I need you to promise me something…" "Anything…" "No matter what happens to me… No matter how this thing turns out… You will not harm Ema…"

Chapter 15: Just Turn It Off And On Again >>

||The Prophecy Series||

[im-not-batman]

Tell me about the Dean/Benny fic 🤩

Oo I'm so excited about this one!! Thank you so much for the ask 💚💚

So it's an AU where Dean does the trials to close up the gates of Hell and goes to get Bobby. Sam finds Benny to ask him to go to purgatory to help Dran get back. When Benny says he's not going back, Dean just. Loses it.

"Come on Benny, your turn," Dean said rolling up his sleeve. He was about to let the knife pierce his skin, but was stopped by a hand grabbing hold his wrist, strong and unyielding. He looked up into Benny's face and found him frowning.

Dean mirrored the expression, though where Benny looked resolute, Dean was just confused, "What are you doing, man? We don't have time for this," he tried to pull away from the vampire's vice grip but it was useless.

Benny's eyes softened. Dean's stomach flipped. Not in a good way this time. He knew what was coming. He'd been wrestling down the thought, avoiding acknowledging it, like that would keep it from being real.

"I'm not going back, Dean," Benny lilted, voice silken and soft but leaving no room to be argued with.

And there were the words Dean had been hoping were never going to come. He knew from the moment Benny had appeared that there was something wrong, that he wasn't acting right.

"I ain't leaving you behind again, Benny," Dean's voice was hoarse, throat tight with dread.

"Yeah, you are," he replied, quiet and calm, as though he wasn't talking about being permanently dead. His eyes retained that usual softness, and his lip was almost curved into a content smile.

Feeling Dean's arm go limp, Benny let his grip on his wrist go, and stepped back, stood relaxed against tree.

The sight only served to incense the Winchester. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving him here to be hunted and tortured by monsters for eternity. It wasn't a thought he could stomach, and seeing Benny so at peace with his decision made Dean want to throw up.

He surged forward, barely keeping his footing on the uneaven forest floor, and grabbed Benny's jacket in a fist. He looked up at him with his eyebrows furrowed, mouth downturned in a grimace and he could feel tears threatening his sinuses. Benny just rested his hands on Dean's forearms.

"Don't you do this, Benny," he pleaded through gritted teeth, searching his friend's face for any sign of doubt, any opportunity to change his mind, "if this is about me keeping my distance topside, I regret it okay. I shouldn't have left you hanging. We were supposed to be in it together and I let you down... you're the only one I got who really gets me, man," his voice faultered and he coughed.

"Dean—" Benny started, Dean cut him off.

"I need you, okay?" The words ripped out of him. It was the most honest, soulbearing, frightening thing he'd ever said outloud.

When his brain caught up, he realised just how intensely true those words felt. He needed Benny. He wasn't quite sure what he'd been thinking when he'd said that they needed space from each other. It had felt like he'd been missing something all this time; like he'd broken his leg but lost his crutch, like he had an all-consuming habit and suddenly gone cold-turkey. He'd been too occupied to realise that that feeling had gone away the moment Benny had shown up again.

"I need you..." he repeated, weaker this time, the whirring of his mind taking up all his energy. His grip on the vampire loosened, but Benny's hands stayed holding him close, "you can't leave me."

There was a still sort of quiet between them for a moment. It was thick and heavy as molasses, Dean felt crushed under the weight of it.

"I already did, Deano," Benny finally spoke and tilted his head trying to get Dean to look into his eyes again, "I'm already dead, I'm just askin' you to keep me that way."

Dean hadn't even noticed that tears had started to fall until Benny reached one hand up and wiped them away with a thumb. He kept his palm rested against Dean's jaw and the hunter had to fight not to melt into it.

"I'm not meant for the world up there," he tilted his head towards the portal, "everyday was a fight, trying to keep from hurtin' good folks. Dodging my past, and trying to stop the people lookin' for me from causin' too much hurt.

"I didn't know how to live, I was barely keepin' my head above water. Down here it makes sense. I know that the only people I hurt, who can get hurt, are monsters too."

"You're not a monster, Benny," Dean protested, but the vampire shook his head fondly, not wanting to re-hash an argument they'd already had so many times, "come back with me and I'll help you stay clean."

Benny just smiled, affection in his eyes, "I can't ask that of you. You've already got all of this goin' on." he grazed his hand lightly up and down Dean's right arm that currently housed Bobby's soul, "I'll get in your way."

He couldn't sensibly disagree with that. He did have a lot on his plate, and taking care of a vampire with addiction issues would distract him from it all. But he didn't feel sensible right now. He wanted to scream and shout and fight until Benny changed his mind.

"I don't care what it takes, man," Dean gritted his teeth, tears flowing in earnest now, "I'll do anything you need me to. Just come back."

Send me an ask with which of my WIPs from This Post you wanna hear about!

[ashtraythief]

I always wondered if Bobby liked Dean more because while Sam always had Dean looking after him, protecting him, caring for him, etc, Dean had nobody else looking out for him when John was on hunts, and he was a child too, which maybe made him extra sympathetic towards him.

But anyway, it’s really interesting to me to think about which of them was John’s favorite. Dean says Sam was the favorite, and Sam says Dean was. It could be argued either way. From one point of view, Sam was John's favourite because of how much he tried to protect him, through Dean. Sam was shielded from a lot more growing up whereas Dean really had to step up and be a guardian. But you can also say that Dean was his favorite son as he obeyed John's every order and was by definition a perfect son. I think he probably liked Dean better, since they didn’t fight nearly as much as Sam and him, but I think he was a broken men that loved both his sons with everything he had. I haven’t watched the later seasons, so I could be wrong. But their relationship with John always fascinated me. I’ve always wondered, if John lived, would he have killed Sam like he told Dean to do? Honestly, when Sam started drinking demon blood, I think he might have. Putting family first no matter what feels like more of a Sam/Dean thing than a Winchester thing. Not sure if John would have been down for that. Could be wrong, what do you think?

Hmm yes to Bobby I think, that could be a good reason. Also I think Bobby struggled with Sam going darkside for a bit, so I think that also might have impacted their relationship. There were moments during s5 I think where Bobby didn't trust Sam to stay clean.

Yeah the John question is difficult. I kinda agree with all of what you said. You can make the case either way.

As for would John have killed Sam. I think he might have. And I think he knew that about himself which is why he chose to deal his life for Dean's in 2.01. (he also loved Dean and probably felt some guilt and regret there too, but) Like he still gave Dean the order to kill Sam, had to account for that, but John knew that if there was anyone who could keep Sam from going darkside, it would be Dean. It certainly wouldn't be John, with a dead Dean no less. So I think John sacrificed himself to give Sam a better shot at staying good. He made the deal to save Dean's life, but it was also kind of for Sam. A two for one special if you will that Azazel never realized what it was because you can say about John Winchester and his A+ parenting whatever you want, the man was still an excellent, shrewd hunter. It's interesting to think about whether John really believed that Dean would be able to kill Sam. Yes, Dean was a good soldier, but his number one directive was always watch out for Sammy. And that clashing, Dean's purpose and John's last order, John must have known he'd come up short? I mean the show leaves no doubt about it. Over and over Dean is faced with Sam going or seemingly going darkside and he never once manages to kill him. He always tries to find another way. So did John give Dean that cryptic advice to set his boys on the right path? To make Dean go on high alert, drive home the seriousness of the situation so that Dean would stop Sam from ever going down the evil road? Or did he really think Dean would be able to kill Sam eventually? Because like, even in the s15 Sam as Boykin AU, Dean waits so long until its too late and faced with Sam he hesitates enough to get himself killed. I am intrigued what people think about John's expectations here. That to me is the most baffling question 😅

[scoobydoodean]

#people are really invested in making john the Absolute Worst instead of just letting him be a shitty dad via @swordofsun

Yeah this is what I meant much more succinctly.

And RE: something someone said where I think they were bemoaning my response to that initial addition about John... I don't think the context of the show absolves John of being a shitty dad actually. Just like the show's context doesn't absolve Sam or Dean or Cas of every bad thing they ever said or did just because it's the monster show, it also doesn't absolve John of being a shitty dad. There may be things he gets shit talked for that simply did not happen or he may be painted into a laughable caricature of himself frequently in fandom works, but it is a very well established fact in the show that he neglected his sons. That isn't something fans made up, and the ramifications of it are seen very plainly and clearly in Sam and Dean's lives into adulthood to the point they cannot be accurately analyzed without that context imo. This being the monster show actually didn't force John to be a neglectful Dad. He actually did have options that were not leaving his 9 year old alone in charge of another child. The circumstances of his life did not force him into that. His underlying issue at the core was that he refused to ever trust other people and that is the number one thing he would have had to do to make any of this work even remotely. And there WERE people he could have trusted, like Ellen and people she was connected to and Bobby and people he knew. But instead he burned bridges and isolated himself out of fear and guilt and his children paid the price. And while people do say things they regret because they aren't perfect, and John regretted what he said to Sam... instead of taking it back he let Sam believe he hated him for years and watched him from afar, because the stubborn refusal to admit he was wrong won and nothing about this being the monster killing show made him do that—in fact coming back and telling the truth and mending bridges would have set Sam up to be far better protected given John's motivation for preventing him from going to school was that he couldn't protect him there.

Anyway idk why this happened on a post that was about a very specific thing that happened on my blog a couple of months ago which no one has any context for anymore. But if tummy time post is real I wanna see it.

When you're on the monster killing show where there are monsters so you have a gun under your pillow

[horny-winchesters]

Imagine sleeping with jealous!Sam after a bad hunt.

Warnings: Dean & the reader are fwb but the reader has real feelings for him, SMUT, injury, jealous Sam, hunter!reader, fem!reader, slight dom!Sam.

Plot: After a particularly nasty hunt leaving Sam injured, all you want to do is look after him. But what happens when it turns into something more?

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll run you a bath.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“You- You don’t need to do that.”

“Sam, don’t stop me. I want to do this. After all you and Dean have been through to protect me…you deserve it.”

He nodded. As Sam lifted his shirt up, you noticed the bruises littering his torso. They were bright purple and puffy; no doubt caused by the last hunt. When you turned his face, you saw that there were more starting to form along his jawline. This was worse than you first thought.

“Oh Sam…”

Your eyes filled up with tears. The Winchesters were always ready to sacrifice themselves for you. But why? You knew Dean was sleeping with other girls as well as you. He never really cared that much, surely. And Sam couldn’t possibly like you that much, right? Sam noticed you crying and pulled you into a hug.

“Hey, hey. Shh.”

He stroked your hair gently and held you to his chest.

“I’m fine, angel. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

He wiped a tear from your eye, lifting your chin to look up at him. Sam stared at your lips. Then, without another word, pressed his lips against yours and pushed you against the wall of the bathroom, sliding his tongue between yours. It was rough, sweet, and passionate all at once. You melted, running your hands down his back and around his waist. He gripped your hips firmly.

“Sam…”

This wasn’t right. You were in love with Dean, weren’t you? You knew you were only fuck buddies and friends with the older Winchester, so why did this feel wrong…but also so right at the same time?

“Sam…”

You moaned as he nibbled your jawline. His hands wandered dangerously low across your body, brushing across your thighs and then moving to your hips, pulling you closer. Before you could say a word, his tongue plunged deeper into your mouth, caressing every inch he touched until he felt you shiver in his arms. Sam broke the kiss. His eyes darkened as they met yours.

“Sam- Dean will hear us-“

You started but he just kissed you to shut you up.

“He’s not here. He doesn’t have to know, does he? And even if he did, I don’t care. I’m tired of my brother treating you like trash. Like sex is the only thing you’re good for. He doesn’t even let you join us on hunts anymore, when you’re a skilled hunter yourself. Do you know how many other girls he sleeps with on a weekly basis? Fuck, (Y/N).“

He rambled, pressing kisses all over your face and neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist and buried your fingers in his hair, moaning as he bit lightly on your earlobe.

“I mean, my brother is a great guy...when you’re not sleeping with him.“

“Stop talking about Dean. Please. Just…fuck me.”

You pleaded. He obliged and turned on the shower head. He lifted you up and into it, before taking your dress and panties off skilfully. He slipped inside you slowly, savoring your moans and whimpers. Your eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed against his chest. He moved his hips faster and faster, watching your body arch into his every time. He kissed your cheeks, your eyelids, your nose and finally rested his forehead on yours.

“You’re mine, (Y/N)..”

Sam muttered, pushing his length deep inside you. He pulled his face away from yours and looked at you through hazy eyes. You grinned.

“Yours? What do you mean?”

You joked. Sam groaned in frustration. You grabbed his face and pulled him back towards you. He kissed you passionately.

“I bet Dean never fucked you this good.”

His breathy words sent shock waves throughout your entire body, making your heart skip a beat. Jealous Sam was something else. You knew he’d probably regret saying those things in the morning. Or, maybe not.

“Sam! You-“

Before you could get another word out, Sam silenced you by crashing his lips over yours. Your back arched, your hands grabbing handfuls of Sam’s hair as his arms tightened around you. When you both came, your bodies trembling together, unlike when you were with Dean, you didn’t pull apart.

(Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed. I could make a part two where Dean finds out the reader slept with Sam and gets upset because really, he kept pushing her away because he loves her? Let me know! There will be two endings for it!! One for Sam and one for Dean. I know Sam was OOC in this but I can imagine, lol XD)

[irishvampirelady]

Could you do Castiel x reader where they go on a hunt together with the Winchester boys to find out the reader is a demon and it changes their perception on demons for good?

Don't Judge A Book

Castiel x GN! Reader

Absolutely! Sorry this took me so long!

Warnings: angst with a happy ending

This is not how you imagined that you favorite hunters and angel would find out that you were a demon. To be fair, you had planned on them never finding out, but secrets always make themselves known, one way or another.

The four of you had been hunting a group of vampires, and the hunt had gone downhill faster than any of you had thought it would. Soon, Sam and Dean were in danger, and you flew into action without thinking, eyes as black as the pits of hell you had come from.

Now, here you were. Cornered by the three men you had called friends for years now. "Please, I can explain... I promise, I'm not going to hurt you." You insist, watching them carefully.

"How can we trust you?" Dean asks with a steely glare, keeping the Colt aimed at you, prepared to defend his family if necessary.

"Just hear me out." You assure, hands raised in surrender. "I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would freak out, but I know it was wrong of me to keep this hidden from you, and I'm sorry I did."

"Why didn't you take advantage of us then? You could've killed us at any moment." Sam frowns, confused.

"I didn't want to. You and Dean are the best hunters on this planet, and I wanted to be friends with you, and keep you safe by any means necessary.."

Castiel stares at you, unblinkingly for what feels like an eternity, before turning to Sam and Dean, "They're telling the truth. They only want the best for us."

Dean hesitates a moment longer, then nods, holstering the Colt, "Alright.. but don't make me regret trusting you, got it?"

You nod, and he cracks a smile, "Good. Sammy and I are gonna pack up, finish up anything you have to do, okay?" He grins a little, then pats your shoulder gently before taking Sam back to the car, leaving just you and the blue-eyed angel standing there.

"You stuck up for me..." You state, smiling a little at him.

He tilts his head, "Why wouldn't I? You've had nothing but good intentions toward us since we met you. You're a good person, even if you are a demon."

This makes you smile more, and you hug him tightly, "Thank you..." you whisper softly.

He tenses, startled by your actions, then he gently returns the hug, "Of course..."

"Hey, lovebirds! Hurry up or we're leaving without you!" Dean calls, grinning.

The two of you pull away from the hug, "Coming!" You call, smiling a bit.

Castiel hesitates a moment, then takes your hand, smiling a bit as you two make your way to the Impala.

This is your family, and you wouldn't have it any other way.