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kaleldobrev · 1 month

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Getting Back into the Swing of Things (1) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years) & Minor controlling behavior

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Don't worry, as Dean and reader meet in the next chapter! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read the Prologue

Dean tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite what seemed like hours trying. He smelled blood in his nose, felt it on his lips and tongue; smiling with pure bliss. He could feel his hand gripping the First Blade, and he could hear the heart beats of people fading fast as he looked into their eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself.

Removing the covers from himself, he swung his body, his feet flat on the floor as he rubbed his face. Letting out a huge sigh of frustration, he got up from his bed and made his way to his bedroom door; deciding that maybe a few drinks could make him get a bit sleepy. But he knew deep down that wasn’t going to work — he just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.

As Dean started making his way toward the kitchen, he noticed that Sammy’s door was open halfway, the light of the room still on. A puzzled look appeared on Dean’s face, surprised that Sam was still up. He figured after curing him, he would be knocked out for the next couple of days, or at least taking it easy.

He heard drawers opening and closing, not remotely quietly. Standing in the doorway, he saw Sam packing some clothes into a duffel bag, slightly struggling as he did so, as he was down an arm. “Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked, after knocking on the doorway.

Sam looked up, barely smiling. He looked almost half asleep. “Uh yeah. A hunter friend of mine asked me to help her with a poltergeist case. Should be only a few days.”

“A poltergeist case uh?” Dean questioned, intrigued. “Where at?” He scratched the back of his head as he walked into Sam’s bedroom, trying his best not to sound too excited about the case.

“Tulsa. It’s about a five and a half hour drive from here, and I promised Y/N I’d meet her at the motel in town,” Sam said, zippering up his duffel.

“You sure you’re good to go Sammy? I mean, your arm is still broken,” Dean said, pointing at his arm. “Why don’t I go instead? I could use a nice and easy case to get my sea legs back.”

Sam looked at his brother with a bit of hesitancy. “I don’t know Dean…” his voice trailed off. Even though Sam had talked to you about Dean, he wasn’t sure how you would react to Dean showing up instead of him. Based on the short amount of time he had known you, he feels that you and Dean would get along really well as your hunting styles were scarily similar at times, and your personalities rivaled each other. But yet, you didn’t know Dean, and he knew you’d rather hunt alone than hunt with someone you didn’t know.

“Sammy, your arm is broken. No offense, but how much help are you really going to be to her? She might as well just do it by herself,” Dean said, and Sam knew that his brother had a point. He was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

Sam sighed, almost defeated. “Alright, alright. You’re…you’re right,” he said, slightly swinging his casted arm. “Just let me give her a heads up first okay?”

You looked out straight in front of you as only darkness could be seen for miles and miles. Your hands had a tight grip on the wheel to the point that your knuckles were almost pale and white. The loudness of your windshield wipers drowned out what you were currently listening to — The Clash.

There was no traffic, no cars— just you, the rain, and the complete darkness except for your headlights. You sighed, thinking about your boyfriend, how conflicted you felt about the whole thing. On one end, you were tired of the bullshit and were ready to call it quits with him. Why be with someone who makes you miserable? You heard your mom’s words echoing in your brain, so loud as if she was sitting right next to you. On the other end, you wanted to give him another chance as people who understood the hunting life was few and far between.

You didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but it was something that started to look more and more appealing. You were 22, still young and had time to find someone. But who? Another hunter? A civilian maybe? No, no civilians, you thought. Too risky. You needed someone that knew the life.

As if snapping you out of your current thought, your phone started ringing, the buzz of it slightly vibrating your seat. Since there were no cars on the road, you pulled off to the side, and answered the phone. "Hey Sammy," you said, "where are you?"

"Hey Y/N, I'm uh...still back at the Bunker," his voice sounded so tired and defeated.

You raised a brow in confusion. "What do you mean you're still back at the Bunker? You're not coming to help me?" You would be lying if you weren't disappointed. Although you had only known Sam for a short amount of time, he was someone that you genuinely enjoyed hunting with; not only because he was a legendary Winchester, but because he treated you like his equal, despite your age.

"Remember when Cas helped me on a case a while back and I ended up breaking my arm?" He said, and you nodded, even though you knew he wasn't able to hear you. But he took your lack of an answer to continue speaking. "Well, it's still broken. And I didn't want to say no when you called for help because you were such a big help to Cas and me, especially me, when Dean were gone."

You didn't want to give the impression that you were disappointed, even though you were. But you understood where Sam was coming from; and the last thing you wanted to do was force him to drive all the way to Tulsa just to sit in the motel room. "I really appreciate you saying yes, even though you're kind of out of commission. It...it really means a lot."

"Listen, I know you can pretty much solve this case in your sleep but..." he paused, sighing, almost as if he was afraid to say the next few words. "Dean offered to help you."

You were completely silent, which was a rarity for you. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate the help, but you were iffy about it as you didn't really like working with people that you weren't really familiar with. Yes, you've heard countless stories from Sam about his brother, and knew he was a good hunter; but the thing that scared you was, when it came down to it, would he just leave you for dead to save himself?

"I know you don't usually work with people you aren't really familiar with but," he sighed again, and you knew if he was in front of you right now, the puppy dog eyes would be in full force. "He's a great hunter, Y/N, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. If something bad happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself."

How could you possibly say no when Sam was practically telling you how good of a person his brother was? "Sam —"

"You'd be doing me a big favor, Y/N. I think this case would really help him get back into the swing of things," Sam said. Now you definitely couldn't say no.

You took a deep breath, sighing. "Okay," you said simply, giving in to Sam’s plead.

"Thanks Y/N, seriously," his tone sounding a bit happier now that you agreed. "I already gave him the address to the motel we agreed to meet at. He should hopefully be there right around the same time as you are."

"But you guys are almost six hours away," you stated with a raised brow. "Is he teleporting there?"

Sam chuckled at your comment. "No, no. He uh...he's a bit of a speed demon," Kind of like you, he wanted to add.

"Ah, so like me," you said. Sam couldn't help but smile at the comment, finding it funny that you had thought the exact same thing as he had. "Alright. Um, does he need my phone number or?"

"I kind of...already...gave it to him...sorry..." his words trailed off, almost embarrassed, like you had caught him red handed. You sighed, slightly annoyed. You didn't like when others gave out your phone number without asking you first, but then again, your boyfriend — which was soon to be your ex — was something he did quite often behind your back.

"He still driving the impala?" You asked, but before Sam could answer you, you continued with your thought, answering your own question. "Never mind, that was a stupid question," you slightly chuckled to yourself. "Of course he's still driving the impala."

Dean held the steering wheel tightly in his hands, loving the feeling of the leather at his fingertips. It had been far too long since he'd driven Baby, and it was one of the things that he truly missed while he was gone. "It's just a car Sam," his words rang out; and those words gutted him, because Baby wasn't just a car: she was home.

As he drove, his music was low, not loud like he usually preferred it, as he was currently admiring the simplicity of his surroundings. The rain hitting the windshield and being quickly wiped away, the darkness of the road that was only lit up by Baby's headlights. He felt comfortable and at ease; something driving always helped him to feel. He felt at home right now.

You didn't really know what to feel right now as you were debating back and forth on how your first meeting with the infamous Dean Winchester was going to go. According to Sam, the two of you would get along great, as he's made comments along the lines of, "You sometimes scarily remind me of Dean," which you weren't sure if you should take as a compliment or not.

Some of the stories Sam had told you about Dean impressed you, but then there were some where you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupidity. With some stories, you wondered how he wasn't dead already, then again, both Winchester's have died and came back countless times as death didn't seem to stick. You couldn't help but wonder what made them so special. Maybe they are God's favorites, you thought; and you couldn't help but chuckle.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, you let out a small laugh, seeing Dean's impala already in the parking lot. He really is a speed demon, you thought. Wonder what time he got here? You wondered.

As soon as you parked your vehicle, your phone began buzzing, and you looked at the name on the caller ID. Your blood started boiling seeing your boyfriend's name. "You have to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled to yourself.

At first, you were going to ignore the call, as maybe he would think you were still driving. But there was no way you would be able to give that illusion as there was no traffic on the road when you left because of the time. With gritted teeth, you answered the call, trying your absolute best to remain calm. "Hey," was all you said.

"You get to the motel yet?" He asked, his tone implying that he already had that knowledge somehow.

"I just pulled in," your answers were short, as you were still mad at him from before. Although driving was one of the things that calmed you down and made you feel at peace, for some reason, this argument in particular really made you angry.

"You said you would call me when you got to the motel," he sounded mildly annoyed, but disappointed at the same time.

You rolled your eyes. "Fucking hell," you mouthed. "I just pulled in. You didn't give me enough time to even call or text you." You took a deep breath, feeling yourself getting ready to boil over. "This is me telling you that I have reached the motel and may not be able to talk to you over the next couple of days, okay?" You weren't asking him; you were telling him; trying to make it clear that you couldn't talk to him. Of course you would be able to, but you didn't want to, as this case was a way for you to get the edge off. It was a way to kill something without killing him.

"I love you," he said, and for some reason him saying those three little words surprised you. He rarely said them to you, even though it was something that you had said to him regularly. The only times he ever seemed to say those three little words to you was during or after sex, or when the two of you had gotten into a rather nasty argument.

You didn't want to say it back to him, as love was the very last thing you felt for him in this moment. But you almost felt like you needed to, so he wouldn't feel like anything was wrong between the two of you. Then again, you didn't want to gaslight him the same way he always seemed to gaslight you. "I'll see you in a few days," was how you decided to answer, as those were the most genuine words you felt you could say to him.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 2

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #the 15 year problem

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prentissluvr · 21 days

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gas station, 3:04 a.m. — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, platonic realtionship!, 615 words. requested ! for my 800 followers event [ open ] .

summary : dean cares for you in the ways that he knows how; snacks and star gazing.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the open windows of the impala help. the whooshing air and slight chill to the wind keeps you feeling something that isn’t crushing and punishing. at least the moon is out and the stars are bright out in the middle of nowhere. you don’t look at dean as he drives so that he doesn’t look at you. of course, you can feel his eyes on you sometimes, but he respects your silence and your avoidance. he does his fair share of that too.

but he does worry. he does care. and he thinks that he actually knows what’s wrong. dean has trouble dealing with emotions. his, yours, sam’s, everybody’s. but you’re his best friend, and he knows you. you’ve been quiet since yesterday, so it’s not hard to follow the clues.

maybe the gas is low when he pulls off the highway to a twenty four hour gas station to refill the tank. maybe not. either way, he stops, and there’s no maybe in whether or not it was for you. he wants to get you out of the car, into the air, and maybe make you smile somehow.

he fills up the tank in silence, but doesn’t get back in the driver’s seat when he does. he rounds the car instead, opening your door and holding out his hand.

“c’mon,” he urges, voice not too loud or gruff in the three a.m. air. he motions with the hand he holds out for you, and it’s clear he won’t budge until you accept it and leave the car. so you relent, taking his calloused hand and stepping out onto the asphalt.

the night is crisp, but your thin jacket is the perfect layer for the mid-spring temperatures. it’s quite dark out, the town that the exit dean took still a bit of a ways away from the gas station. the only light comes from the flickering flourescents of the service area. they cast harsh shadows on dean’s face, and you imagine your own features look similar, eyes looking extra haunted when they’re shadowed.

the ground under your feet is good. it’s solid, and so is dean’s hand. he let’s go once you’re standing, but he swings his arm around your shoulder after shutting your door. you don’t resist when he leads you into the small store. inside, he slips away from you because the aisles are too thin to walk side by side. he fills his hands with your favorites, so you grab a few of his.

he pays with a fake credit card and smiles at you secretly when he sees that you grabbed his snacks too. you’re watching the second hand of the clock in the corner go tick tick tick, then the minute hand shifts to read 3:04 a.m.

dean doesn’t touch you to get your attention, just in case it startles you. he just gathers the snacks in his arms, hoping that the loud crinkling of plastic is enough to get you to look at him again.

you turn and give him an unconvicing smile, and he sends you a wide grin back. he’s got an arsenal of bad jokes to tell you once you’re settled. dean makes it seem like you’ll snack in the car; he pulls out of the gas station, but stops further along the road, where it’s darker and even more secluded. you don’t question it when he turns off the engine and gets out. you follow, sitting on the hood of the car with him.

the stars are bright, like he knows you like, and he watches them with you. he tells you those stupid jokes, and you laugh for real. dean cares.

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samsno1 · 8 months

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Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials.

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty.

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry.

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

#supernatural #writers on tumblr #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural angst #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki

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choerypetal · 5 months

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Pink Laptop / Sam Winchester

summary: Sam and you attempted to conceal your relationship out of fear of his brother. However, you both decided to subtly hint at it through small gestures, like borrowing his flannel shirt. Him reading the books you like. But what happens if during one of these covert acts, while on a scavenger hunt at your campus, Sam unveiled an unusual shade of pink laptop. That happens to be exactly yours.

ps; english ins't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistake!

enjoy xo'

The boys were on a mission, an unexpected one unfolding right in the heart of your campus. Despite your adamant stance against urban legends the night before, fate seemed to have its own ironic twist. As they escorted you to college that morning, whispers of a tragic incident—a student's demise in the restroom—rippled through the air. You recognized the familiar expression on their faces all too well. "You're not suddenly interested in what is being brought up now, are you?" you quipped, stepping out of the Impala. Dressed impeccably, the boys offered no protest, simply acknowledging your annoyance at their presence on campus. Sam, in his typical teasing manner, assured, "Fear not, we're here to work, not to distract you," playfully tousling your hair before heading inside to meet the college director.

Throughout the day, the Winchesters traversed the college grounds, their first stop being a discussion with your director, proposing an investigation at the scene of the crime. Meanwhile, you found yourself engrossed in midterm studies, only to realize that Sam had commandeered your laptop for further research. This left you with a choice: either borrow a library laptop or abandon studying altogether in favor of grabbing lunch. Just as you were contemplating your options, a familiar face intercepted you, halting your movement with a friendly grip on your arm. "Y/N!" she exclaimed, her smile wide. "It's been ages... well, two weeks," she teased, keenly aware of your recent absence. Sensing an opportunity for a chat, she suggested lunch at the college's balcony café, an offer you couldn't refuse. "Lead the way," you replied, grateful for the chance to catch up.

The presence of the brothers didn't escape the notice of the students, particularly those of your age, who cast admiring glances toward the pair. Dean, ever the flirt, couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the waitress, much to Sam's annoyance as he diligently typed away on your laptop. "You know," Dean remarked teasingly, his attention still fixed on the waitress, "if Y/N has friends..." Sam's expression twisted into one of irritation, anticipating his brother's predictable banter.

"So... your sole reason for this hunt was to flirt with the waitress?" Sam shot a brief glance back, acutely aware that using your laptop, with its bright pink cover, did nothing to enhance his flirting abilities. "If it weren't for that damn laptop cover..." Dean's comment only served to further irritate Sam, who chose to ignore it, opting instead to retort, "She offered it," though Dean's skeptical expression made it clear he found this explanation unsatisfactory.

As you and your friend strolled toward the college café, they made it quite clear they wanted to sit near the Winchesters. You were oblivious to their presence as you were engrossed in chatting with your friend. Faced away from where Dean and Sam were seated. Your friend, however, couldn't resist ogling Dean, who, to your surprise, refrained from returning the teasing glances. "Earth to Beth," you joked, waving your hand in front of her face. Following her gaze, you turned to find Dean and Sam behind you. What caught you off guard was how charming Sam looked holding your laptop, dressed sharply in a suit, while Dean awkwardly munched on his burger. No distraction, Y/N. "Oh my god," you interrupted Beth's thoughts as she realized you knew them. "Seriously?" you teased, feigning disgust and enjoying Beth's blush. "Wait– You know them? Why didn't you tell me you were acquainted with these two handsome gentlemen? Let's go join them!"

You were tempted to go along with the plan. Knowing that the boys were solely focused on their work meant that interactions would be slim, and you'd only be back in the Impala at the end of the day, as per Dean's suggestion for the hunt. However, Sam wasn't keen on the idea, as it meant he'd have to sneak out. Not only to avoid making your relationship too obvious but also because you agreed to let him borrow your laptop, much to Dean's suspicion when he noticed the pink hue. "Pink? Seriously?" he had remarked that morning when Sam used the excuse of needing a new lap top case, to protect it.

Little did you realize, within the blink of an eye, Beth had linked her arm with yours, flashing a joyous yet subtly seductive smile. Just as you turned your attention towards the boys, you could almost lip-read Dean's warning: "They're coming, stay professional." Without hesitation, Beth took the lead, her demeanor becoming flirtatious, her gestures deliberate, and her movements suggestive, embodying the quintessential flirt. This made Dean even more intrigued, while Sam and you felt increasingly uneasy as you confessed how you knew them. Of course, Dean graciously extended an invitation to both of you, much to Sam's amusement, who observed you squirming uncomfortably beside him.

"Hey, isn't that Y/N's laptop?" Beth asked, prompting Dean to shoot Sam a disdainful glance. "You son of a bitch—" Dean began, already aware that the laptop belonged to you as he retrieved it from Sam's hands, noticing the familiar stickers adorning the back. Sam nervously swallowed, watching as you attempted to discreetly excuse yourself. "No, no, no, sweetheart," Dean interjected, his gaze hardly leaving you before shifting to Sam. "Explain."

"Well, I guess that's my cue to leave," your friend Beth said nervously, rising to give you a kiss on the cheek. Dean couldn't resist sneaking his phone number in the palm of her hand, eliciting a blush from her cheeks. You reassured her that you'd call her back tomorrow. With that exchange, you could tell that Sam and you were in for a long discussion based on the look on Dean's face.

The ride was quiet. The hunt was over, Sam and you had no choice but to comply with the silence. "Now," Dean's irritation was palpable. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, stealing glances at you to ensure you were alright. "Since when?" Dean's gaze remained fixed on the road, yet he managed to sneak a glance at you through the car's rear view mirror. "Since the beginning of the semester..." you murmured softly. "At first, it was just reading books, then..."

"To him using your stuff?" He almost took offense, but you sensed something amiss. There was a hint of amusement in Dean's disgust and envy, as if he couldn't believe how adorably silly these actions were, and how he hadn't noticed them before. Whether it was you borrowing one of Sam's flannels under the guise of it being a size too big or Sam unexpectedly diving into fantasy books, it was all too amusing. And now the pink laptop. "I can't believe I never saw it," he sighed, prompting both of you to burst into laughter before Dean could even try to silence you. "Shut up," he grumbled playfully.

"You still have Beth’s awaiting call," you teased, leaning on the two boys and pinching Dean's cheek. "Ha ha, very funny," he retorted sarcastically. You glanced at Sam, relieved by his brother's reaction, albeit a bit peculiar, and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "And don't even think about making out in the Impala," Dean added with a playful smirk.

You could feel Sam's lips curve into a sly smirk as he looked at you with doe eyes. "We never know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn imagines #spn x y/n #spn x reader #spn x you #jensen ackles x reader #jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 11 months

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Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader Jack x teen!reader (all platonic)

Requested by @little-bug-butt

Synopsis: just some little shorts about the Impala being the best place on earth.

You turned the back of the Impala into your own personal sleeping quarters and got comfortable right away. Sam had dragged you out of bed far too early, insisting that it was time to move on, since the hunt was over. You had been asleep by the time the boys had gotten back from a quick vamp job, and they woke you after showering and getting about three hours of sleep.

Despite your grumpy exhaustion, the thrum of the Impala’s engine starting up brought a smile tugging at your lips. In most cases, sleeping in a car was incredibly uncomfortable, but not in the Impala. The backseat was large and fairly accommodating, and the purr of Baby’s engine was better than any lullaby.

It still wasn’t a bed, but it was warm and it was safe, and that was all you could ask for.

“Do you think we’re doing this right?” The sound of Sam’s whispering caught your attention, but you kept your eyes closed as you attempted to sleep.

“What, the job?” Dean asked. “We haven’t even gotten there yet.”

“No, not the job, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Dean’s voice dropped in volume.

“I mean, we’ve been going from job to job nonstop for a while now. I don’t wanna wear her out.”

“She’s fine, look at her. She’s out like a light.”

You struggled to hold back your smile at this. You hadn’t realized that your feigned sleep was so convincing.

“You sure? I mean she’s been kinda quiet lately.”

“I’m sure she’s just tired. She’s gonna be alright, we all are.”

“I just don’t wanna screw this up, you know? With dad gone, I’m not sure I know how to—“

“She doesn’t need a replacement for dad, Sam. Just be a good brother and she’ll be alright.”

The car lapsed into silence after that, and you found yourself drifting in and out of sleep until the sun began to rise. It was still early, and you were still tired, but you shifted in your seat to watch the sunrise anyway.

When Dean saw that you were awake, he reached up and turned on the radio. You craned your neck to see Sam dozing, but he could sleep through anything, so Dean’s Metallica tape wasn’t a problem.

Neither of you spoke to break the still, silent morning, but you still felt connected to your big brother as the two of you watched the sun cast it’s pinkish glow over the black hood of the Impala. The air was crisp, but the light of dawn brought with it a warm blanketing shine that brought an easy smile to your lips. You took a deep breath, and somewhere between Dean’s cologne and the smell of fast food you could smell the fresh air of the morning. Or, more likely than not, you were imagining it, and the only fresh smell was the little green tree air freshener that you had hung up to make the car smell better, and Dean had immediately taken off and flung into the backseat.

“Good morning,” Dean finally broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “I’m doing just fine.”

…

“Ow! Cas, that’s my hand.”

“Sorry, but you’re in my space.”

“So not true! Jack, close the window.”

“But it’s hot in here.”

“If you kids don’t shut up, I’m going to turn this car around!” Dean snapped from the front seat.

“Did you call me a child?” Cas complained.

“No more talking, that’s the rule for the next hundred miles,” Dean grunted.

Sam said nothing, just smirking as Dean went to turn on the radio.

“What?” He snapped when he saw Sam’s face.

“Oh I’m not saying a word,” Sam said before sliding his fingers in front of his lips in a “zipping my lips” motion.

“Smart,” Dean grumbled, changing his mind on the radio and instead opting to watch the scenery.

After a few minutes silence became comfortable, and the five of you continued like that for hours. You were smashed up against the side of the Impala, Cas and Jack taking up most of the space, but once your leg went numb you could kind of ignore it.

The silence was peaceful, the most peace all of you had had in a while. You watched the sun dipped below the horizon with your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. Once the sun was down, however, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against Castiel’s shoulder as you began to nod off. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shift in his seat so that you could lean more comfortably on him. You didn’t often get this close to the angel, and if you’d been fully awake you would’ve probably been too self-conscious to take up so much of his personal space. But Cas didn’t mind, in fact he was almost flattered that you felt comfortable enough around him to sleep on him.

When the Impala reached its destination and Dean said, “Alright, let’s go,” he was surprised when Cas shushed him, gesturing to you.

“Should we—“

“Don’t wake her,” Sam said. “She hasn’t been sleeping too well lately. I’ll get her.”

“No I’ve got her,” Dean said, opening the backseat door and easing you away from Cas, lifting you easily into his arms.

“Cas?” You mumbled, stirring in Dean’s arms.

“Shh, go back to sleep kid.”

You didn’t argue, and within seconds you were dozing in Dean’s arms as he carried you into the motel room.

…

The five of you had to start early the next morning, but when Cas entered the room that you and your brothers were sharing, he found you still asleep.

“Can you get her up?” Dean called from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Y/N?” You groaned as Cas shook your shoulder. “It’s time to go, c’mon.”

“I’ll stay here,” you mumbled before turning over and pulling your pillow over your head.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” Cas frowned.

“Cas,” Sam sighed. “You can’t wake her up like that.”

“Then how—“

“Alright, up!”

“Wait—“ you groaned as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you out of bed, an “oof!” Escaping you as you landed hard on your back.

“Let’s go,” Sam insisted, stepping over you to pack his bag.

“Jerk,” you grumbled as you started to get ready.

Twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, and the gentle lull of Baby’s engine had you dozing again.

“You sleep a lot,” you lifted your head at the sound of Jack’s voice, who was now sitting next to you instead of Cas.

“It’s the only way to cope though Dean’s playlist, if I was conscious I’d have to listen to it.”

“Hey, I can hear you!” Dean protested.

“Good, then maybe you’ll update your collection.”

The two of you bickered for a while before eventually giving up, and the car once again lapsed into comfortable silence. You leaned against the window, the purr of Baby’s engine and the miles of fields bringing a calm to you that you hadn’t been able to feel lately. It blanketed the car, creating a vortex of protection from the chaos that enthralled the lives of the people inside.

It felt as though as long as they were in the Impala, nothing could touch them. They were together, they were warm, and they were safe.

They were home.

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 2 years

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I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.

but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.

also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....

ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.

#jack kline #destiel #spn #supernatural #deancas #molly mumbles

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wellofdean · 2 months

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Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

#anti-trashnatural agenda #spn #supernatural was good actually #it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer #destiel

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queenendless · 11 months

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👻🦇🎃 Spooky Lovin' (Various JJK ft Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Female!Reader) 🎃🦇👻

A/N: Just my headcannon on an imagined scenario with the JJK cast celebrating Halloween together and they're all A-OK and happy and 😭🤧❤️‍🩹 There are ships/pairings in this here and there plus the costumes I thought of for them all that took forever to think of! Spooky romantic fluff. Cause writing that vampire AU 18+ piece is ... hard.

Pairings: Yuji x Megumi, Nobara x Maki, Yuta x Rika with hints of Yuta x Toge, Kokichi x Miwa, Shoko x Utahime, Nanami x Haibara, Mai x Momo, Yuki x Choso, and Satoru x Suguru x Fem!Reader at the end.

All credit for JJK cast goes to Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy. And —

HAPPY HALLOWEEN~!

THE CAST'S HALLOWEEN ATTIRE!

🎃Yuji in a tiger onsie and his usual sneakers with black face paint on for the whiskers and the nose.

🎃Megumi as wolf boi with just a wolf ears headband on … he was willing to put those on for his Yuji bae and that's all you're getting.

🎃Nobara as OUAT Aurora with a sword because she is a cute badass.

🎃Maki as OUAT Mulan because I like her warrior armored suit. Blame the fanarts I've seen.

*Plus seeing fanart of those OUAT girls together made something click.

🎃Toge as the Mummy. Better that than automatically putting him in a sushi roll suit.

🎃Panda as Frankenstein's Monster. In the torn up black Frankenstein jacket, stitches painted on, Frankenstein bowler head wig, and bolts in the neck. It was either this or Killer bear.

🎃Yaga as Dr Frankenstein. Labcoat, gloves but with his shades still on. Makes perfect sense.

🎃Yuta as Bendy the Dancing Demon.

🎃Rika as Alice Angel

*They both start off cute then become quite terrifying but in the best way.

🎃Kokichi as Victor from The Corpse Bride.

🎃Miwa as Emily THE Corpse Bride.

🎃Nanami as Captain America cause I got the idea from @TimieTate on twitter. But he keeps said cap off. He'll keep the shield just to see the fanboy within faces Yu, Yuji and Ino come to life.

🎃Yu Haibara as Iron Man cause I like Stony and it all fits now. Also he used face paint to add in the beard goatee combo.

🎃Ino as a zombie with the usual horror makeup with green skin, bloody cuts, and he's a cutie wanting brains~

🎃Shoko as Sally

🎃Utahime as Genderbent Jack Skellington with a Zero plushie.

🎃Momo as Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Just the poofy velvety black dress, witch's hat, It was the broom's fault.

🎃Mai as Salem Saberhagen/Cat. It's just in a velour jumpsuit with an attached tail, layered choker necklace, cat ear headband, and ankle boots.

🎃Todo as a crossdressed Takada … cause why not.

🎃Choso as Netflix's Castlevania Dracula, with his hair loose to match. Also because of the whole blood thing.

🎃Yuki as Lisa Tepes also from Netflix's Castlevania cause they're both independent and stubborn and it just made sense to have them pair up.

🎃Riko as Wednesday Adams

🎃Kuroi as Morticia Adams

🎃Toji and Shiu as Sam and Dean Winchester. Just wearing leather jackets, rustic shirts, torn jeans and boots for the rugged look. Doesn't matter who's dressed as who. They can both make either roles work.

🎃Noritoshi Kamo as Hellsing's Alucard

🎃Junpei as Ash Williams. OG Classic. With detachable chainsaw toy hand.

🎃Nanako as Mitsuri Kanroji

🎃Mimiko as Nezuko

🎃Tsumiki as Shinobu

*They all got the wigs and custom made toy Nichirin swords. Also because Tsumiki and Shinobu share the same seiyuu. It was either her or Yor from SPY X FAMILY. Lord knows Gojo, Geto and Megumi would never want to see this girl in that kinda getup; overprotective they are.

🎃Mei as Disney OG Ursula. They both have white hair and do business with high rewarding profits. I had trouble figuring out a costume for Mei, okay!?

🎃Ui as a Flotsam Jetsam Mashup. Devoted brother/minion, so be it.

🎃Kusakabe as a Scarecrow. Apparently he's a fearful man that is courageous when it counts. It all fits.

🎃Akari Nitta as OG Disney Cinderella. Cause why not? It's cute!

🎃Ijichi as Zorro. Be a brave badass, my man!

*Those two are doing a callback to A Cinderella Story; the OG one, where Sam is Cindy and Carter is Zorro. Ergo, neither pair are couples.

🎃Arata Nitta as just a bedsheet ghost. He's timid as hell according to his wiki so there.

🎃Satoru as Wassup Ghostface

🎃Suguru as Viper Ghostface

🎃You as OG Ghostface

*Cause I gotta put my favorite horror character of all time in this and seeing fanart of them as Ghostface is a big turn on~! Plus Gojo gives Wassup vibes. And Viper looked so cool for Geto. And yes you be representing the OG!

🎃👻🦇 🎃 👻🦇🎃 👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃

Fall has come.

Warm colored leaves whisking in the cold blowing winds.

And so much rambunctious chatter teemed the atmosphere.

The annual Halloween carnival fair has arrived.

"Fushiguro! Let's go on that ride next!" Yuji cheered enthusiastically as the pair rode the flaming pumpkin head shaped go bumper car.

"Fine fine! Just keep your eyes on the – ACK!" Megumi grabbed those mochi cheeks of Yuji's to make him face forward, both jerking forward as they got slammed in up front by another go cart.

"Itadori-kun! Eyes on the road!" Junpei laughed.

"You two can get it on later, ya know~" Ino teased, grinning, innuendo jokes going hard.

"Ino-san, please don't egg him on." Megumi grumbled, bashfully avoiding eye contact.

"If he wants to, sure." Yuji made it all seem so simple.

"WHAT!?" All three exclaimed in shock, startling the other drivers and passerby, earning him a hard yank on his tiger hood.

Mingling outside a food booth

"Mmm, umai~!" Nobara's eyes lit up with actual stars in them as she eyed her crepe with bat and spider sprinkles paired with chocolate sauce. "Delicious and Insta-worthy~! Maki-san, what do you think?"

She smacked her lips in afterthought, eyeing the"With the black and orange dyed cone, matching sherbert ice cream gave off that spooky pizzazz to put one in the festive mood "Not bad. Too much though."

"Hmm … then finding the best cammable sweets for Maki-san is our goal for this all Hallows Night!"

"Don't go overboard, baka." Maki bopped her on her crowned head, endearingly smiling. "Cause we're burning all this sugar in our workout tomorrow."

Nobara saluted. "Yes ma'am!"

From down the road, sitting at a mini table set up outside another food both, Mai scoffs at the sight. "Maki, what do you see in that girl?"

Giving heated glares to some passerby that were giving cat calls to Mai, Momo "Your envy is warranted but not tonight. Now have a spooky berry." Momo plopped a bloody frosted one from her decorated strawberry coffin into her partner's mouth.

"Out of all the people, she chose to date … her." Mai muffled through her full mouth.

"I heard that, you know." The Kyoto pair looked up to see Mai's twin and her bae standing there; Maki a bit facially irked whereas –

"We BOTH heard!" Nobara's seething face was too close for Mai's comfort; Maki restraining her from going feral, though Mai looked undisturbed.

Oh? I didn't see you there." Mai's false smile had Nobara shooting steam out of her nostrils.

"She means well." Momo; understanding Mai's protectiveness over her twin, just sat there and ate those berries away.

The baseball struck gold as the bottle tower collapsed with ease.

"Alright Nanami-san! Perfect aim as always!" Haibara cheered, clapping before pointing at the prize he wanted hanging above their heads. "How many prize booths does that make now?" Haibara beamed, arms full of stuffed toy prizes.

"This would be the fifth one. I believe we've reached a moderate amount at this point." Nanami stated, adjusting the strap keeping the star spangled shield on his back, as they walked off with their reward.

"Yeah. This is more than enough for my sister. Thank you. So here." Picking up his latest prize, he handed the Iron Man chibi doll to his beau. "As a token to remember this night."

Nanami was so taken back by the gesture. "Then you keeping this one would even things up." He plopped that Cap chibi plush right on Haibara's face.

Haibara nuzzled the Cap plush with his cheek. "I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth … Kento."

God, Nanami's heart was getting ready to burst right outta him! "Yu …" Looking straight ahead, he shyly blushed as he kept a hand on Yu's back just in case. "I'll never forget."

On a park bench, viewing the fair from across the way, the two ruggedly dressed drinking buddies were hogging the bench.

"You know spying is a bad look for you, Zen'in."

"Shut it. It's Fushiguro now, remember?" And yet, propped against the back of the bench, Toji kept glancing at his wolf eared teen son walking with his fellow sorcerer buddies through the festive grounds evidently content regardless if he was smiling or not.

"Just go say to your kids already, you big old wuss."

Downing some booze, Toji sighed. "Nah. It's better this way. Besides, his two new papas would kill me in cold blood if I got even close."

"You're actually pissed you didn't get invited to their group gathering." Shiu drolled, getting bonked in the back of the head by Toji's half empty bottle.

"Still though, nothing like a drink and a smoke outside to spend the night away." Shiu mused, smoke slipping through his lips.

Toji's semi bored eyes suddenly became focused as they trained on a former target that now alluded to his sights after slipping inside one of the many houses of horrors littered around the fair grounds.

Holding hands tightly, Riko and Kuroi jolted and squeaked among the many other costumed attendees from every jump scare triggered by the gory horrifying figures coming every which way.

"Riko-sama, it's okay if you don't want to keep going."

"No! I can be brave through this! Just to rub it in those two's smug ass faces! I can do this – mmph!" She bumped into someone's back amiss her self encouragement. Looking up into the blackest eyes of Count Choso who bluntly uttered.

"Boo."

Riko's terrified screams didn't startle Choso in the slightest as she flailed, losing balance, and falling into Kuroi's arms.

"Sorry about him, Amanai-chan. Just trying to get him in the spooky spirit is all." Yuki's head popped out from behind him, apologetically smiling.

"An incarnated object … in the flesh!" She was as terrified as she was astounded at being in his presence, especially when he punched a screeching animatronic that got too close for comfort.

"Another former Star Plasma Vessel." Choso pointed out dryly.

"I chose my own path going forward of my own free will, same as you. No need to be so blunt about it." Riko stuck her tongue out at the somewhat irked hybrid man.

"Riko-sama, let's get going. We're holding up the others behind us." Kuroi cautioned.

"Yes yes, we're wasting precious time here! The night is still young after all!~!" Not wanting to get kicked out and sued by those running the house, Yuki dragged those three out to the exit, barreling through puzzled exclaiming normies.

In a mock up Haunted Mansion ride, Kokichi stayed stiff but flustered as Miwa held his hand, hugged his arm, and cuddled up next to him in their automatic carriage seat for two.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She curiously wanted to know.

He nods, fidgeting a bit. "And you?"

"Yes … I'm with you, after all." Miwa's genuine smile spoke volumes to how true she meant it.

"Good." He kissed her cheek all feather-like, earning a glow from her face before she peppered his face all with lipstick kisses, to his dopey smiling face.

"Oh my precious students!" That alerted the two as they spotted their sensei tearing up, to which her date used her Zero plush to pat away those tears.

"Just ignore us. We'll keep mingling with our brethren, that's all." Shoko waved to them, lounging in the fake graveyard setting.

"Not if we get kicked out over it!" Utahime panicked.

"Eh, no big deal." Shoko's usual apathetic shrug.

"You promised me you wouldn't act like THOSE TWO – MMPH!" Utahime got shushed by a smooch. Zero's nose lit up red, smooshed in between them, pouting as they parted. "You don't play fair."

Shoko rubbed her nose against Utahime's, mixing her faded blue powder with her white face powder, smiling proudly. "You make it too easy."

Outside, in a corn maze, Toge was looking ahead over the tops, carried on Panda's shoulders,

"Tsuna Tsuna."

"Go right?"

"Shake."

"Got it. Oh, Yuta, why must you leave us in your wake!? We barely see him anymore! Now he left us behind in this maze!" Panda dramatically tearfully shouted to the heavens.

"Mentaiko."

Turning this and that way, they finally found Yuta. On the hay covered ground. With Rika laying atop him.

"T–Toge! Panda! Uh … I can explain everything! I – It was just a slip –!" Yuta sweated bullets.

"He still cushioned my fall. You're always looking out for me, Yuta, my love~!" Rika gushed.

While he remained calm on the surface; that and his mouth was covered in wraps, Toge was irked at seeing his close friend being smothered by his lifelong love.

"If you two wanted to be alone, all you had to do was say so." Panda suggestively said.

"Uh, that's not – AH!" Getting pulled up to their feet, Yuta blushed at how intense Inumaki's gaze held him with such devotion. Ruffling his hair, Toge was now turning red from what those wraps didn't hide, Yuta laughed a bit at the cute sight, before Panda bear hugged them all. "I – I missed you all too!"

Leaning against the fenced borders of the exit, Kusakabe-sensei stood beside his fellow Scarecrow; a display maybe but still, staying steer clear of any unwarranted hassle.

"Kids … naively enjoying normalcy despite our true reality. As long as I don't get screwed over in the long run, I'm –!"

A clown faced balloon got thrusted in his face.

"Take one. Enjoy yourself. I mean it."

Principal Yaga, handing out spooky themed balloons to adorably costumed kids passing by with their parents, still noticed the somber fear in his eyes. Speaking of kids –

"Come on, uncle! Mom is waiting for us!"

Yaga smiled at seeing Atsuya being dragged off by his Batman dressed nephew, willing to let his guard down for the little guy, a bat shaped balloon in his small gloved hand.

Mei cackling as money rained the sky. "Thinking you can trick me out of my wits," Men with wounded pride crumbled around her. "Only to be treated to my heart's content." They should never have bet straight outta their wallets. "Now that's what I call the best treat ever~!" She was that good at the shooting ranges. And darts. And slamming the hammer to ring the bell.

"Nee-sama, on top, as always~! Perfection~!" Ui applauded in his own odd unsettling way that only his elder sister enjoyed as she laughed madly.

Noritoshi hoped Miwa and the girls' choice of costume for him wouldn't make him feel so … out of his comfort zone. And yet, the various fangirls that adored the character he portrayed had them taking him up on both sides, hugging him arms and giggling nonstop at how fine he looked. Guess letting his hair down and loose made the look really sell. Still …

"I cannot tell if this is better than dealing with curses … or worse."

Getting dragged off to God knows where, an overwhelmed Noritoshi passed the masked Ijichi-san who was mesmerized by Nitta-san as the princess she is inside and out, twirling on the bridge. "I'll make sure not to lose my glass slipper~!" She cheekily jokes.

"I'd gladly carry you should you ever lose them." Ijicji bravely offered.

"Oh thank you Ichiji-san, but I'll manage. Right, Anata?"

All she got from the tarp draped ghost of her teen brother was jerky nodding and an "Eep!"

"He's really shy. But that makes him that much more precious to me~!" She hugged her startled embarrassed tarp brother.

It brought tears to Ichiji's eyes, sniffling. "Ah sibling love … so pure!"

And for Todo. Yeah, a Takada-chan Halloween themed concert was happening nearby. And yes he got tickets to see her. Cross dressed as his #1. The man will wear it with the utmost unbridled pride and joy for his Takada-Chan. And he'd lose it seeing her dressed as the best half angel half devil in history. "Pure and forbidden to all … the perfect balance … that's my Takada-chan~" He'd be on Cloud 9 yall!

SNAP!

"Ooh, another one!" Nanko cheered.

FLASH.

"New pose time." Mimiko softly suggested.

CLICK!

"Okay, one more!" Tsumiki added.

Posing and taking photos with cosplayers of their fave online idols in their demon slayer outfits was too much fun for all those involved.

"PHOTO BOMB!"

A Wassup Ghostface popped up above Nanako's head. Followed by a Viper one appearing between Mimiko and Tsumiki's faces. Startling away their cosplaying acquaintances.

"Our own papas giving us heart attacks, unbelievable!" Nanako complained.

"It was a good scare, though." Mimiko clapped a bit.

"It made my heart jolt right out of my chest!" Tsumiki exclaimed.

"Huh? Where's Mama, though?" Nanako asked.

"She's missing." Mimiko noted.

"I thought you three would all arrive together." Tsumiki reminded them.

Gojo pulled up his mask to beam at them. "Not to worry, girls. The Mrs is fine. Quite fine, actually~" Gojo's purring tone at how fine you looked in your costume did not go unnoticed as the girls mock gagging into their hands.

Geto also pulled his mask up to peck their foreheads. "You girls keep having fun…not too much, though." Geto wanted the best for his girls too, but not around unsavory company.

"Yes, Geto-sama." The twins kissed his cheeks before dragging Tsumiki off to rendezvous with Megumi's group.

The big question.

Where are you in all this?

Photographing the moments, of course.

Entrapping these precious once in a lifetime memories.

Looking over them all from afar, your tender smile gave way to a wave of attachment as tears pricked your vision behind that mask.

This fragile tender peace amiss this cursed world was what you sought-after.

Swaying from the overflow of sentiment, empathy and affection you felt for this found family had you shaking in your actual costumed boots.

"Tell me …" You felt his cursed energy appear immediately, hovering right behind you. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

You felt giddy, butterflies flocking your nerves, smiling nervously underneath your mask. "This one." You pointed at yourself. "Duh." You giggled as he glomped you from behind, lifting your mask off to see your red cheeked beauty. "Lord forbid I wanna remember this night, digitally and soulfully. Doing group hangouts takes lots of planning, coordination and effort – AAH~!"

You squealed as Satoru lifted you up bridal style, spinning you around, marveling at your form highlighted by the moon while the fair lights made your e/c eyes sparkle like the universe laid in your gaze. Matching his Six Eyes perfectly, hypnotized by them as ever, as he kissed you openly.

"Heaven sent … you truly are." Tuffs of his snony bangs tickled your forehead and nose as his face beamed with pride and joy, unbridled love stretched from both ends of his wide smile, all for you.

"An angel for our depraved souls," Feeling those giant clothes hands cup your cheeks from behind, your toothy smile looked up to see Suguru sharing the same twitterpated expression.

"Ghosts having guardian angels … huh. Who'd have thought?" Your attempt at joking only made them give loud, slobbering, open mouthed smooches all over your face as you became a flailing giggling mess.

"Selfie time~!" Satoru chirped as he took tons of them with his phone, lots of laughs and kisses exchanged amongst the many goofy, creepy, and ecstatic faces you three made.

When midnight would soon be upon you all.

"Looks like we're right on schedule." Suguru mused as you three saw everyone that you personally invited eventually convening where the end of the fair grounds and the park meet, fairy lights hanging among, between, and around the tall hanging trees, various spooky tune favorites playing in the background to set the mood.

"Precisely." You threw the heavy ginormous bag you brought with you.

You popped it with the signature cursed energized finger gun.

It rained candy for all assembled.

While some – Yuji, Panda, Toge, Yuta, Rika, Junpei, Ino, Nobara, Miwa, Riko, Yu, Todo cause his lovely Takada-chan's concert had ended early, Nanako, Mimiko, Tsumiki, Satoru who yes scrambled over to get some too – clamored for every piece they could get their hands on.

Others – the adults at least – had restraint or not much interest.

As the fireworks went off to signal the end of the night, so much lively chatter bounced off everyone in animated mayhem, and you could only stand there and watch in amusement, content, and peace.

You wanted to freeze this moment. As well as many others. From back then to going forward.

This world – this reality – was something else.

You found more meaning, a sense of belonging, and heart in being here.

You would shape, bend and change it all to make it the kind of world you wanted it to be.

One where you could protect the smiles of those you feel attached to. Keeping this little slice of semi-normalcy intact, this somewhat safe haven of a life.

And should any curses wreak havoc upon the city – they will be most active on this night after all – this league of sorcerers would exorcise the hell outta them.

Sitting down on the grassy grounds, you were lost in the glowing sight that you got startled as Suguru slung an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling your humming self with his own.

"Truly a memorable night. Well done, love~"

You two jumped as Satoru collapsed before you two, candy stains smearing his lips, but smiling too much to care. "Best Halloween thus far! But next year we gotta top it! We should throw a bash! At our place!" Satoru's eyes were crazed and high at that point.

"Satoru, no more sugar for you tonight." Suguru lightly scolded.

"But Suguru, I feel so good right now~!" You and Sugu sucked the sweetness right off Toru's lips. "Like that but more~! Please love~?" Those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips have you kissing his lips. "Thanks you two~"

Helping Satoru sit up enough to rest on his elbows, you three spent the moment relishing the youthful scenery. Satoru's head rested on your left shoulder, Suguru's head rested on your right shoulder, and you hummed at how warm and cozy and right it all felt.

Calling out to everyone assembled to do at least one group cheer before the clock struck twelve.

Finishing the night off with one last –

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

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kieranvalentinesboyfriend · 6 days

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Sam Winchester and parallels to Christ

Despite religion and religious imagery being extremely prominent throughout the 2005 tv show Supernatural, one import figure in both Catholicism and Christianity is missing, Jesus Christ himself. I found this strange when I was watching the show and while I still do, I think that we as an audience can attribute a great many “Christ-like” traits to one of the main characters, Sam Winchester. He, just as Jesus did, must go though a great many periods of suffering in order to prove himself, with one of these periods even being referred to as a trial. However, unlike Christ, Sam is not able to attain holiness and absolution in the eyes of the Lord.

Religious symbolism is rife throughout most of Sam’s plot lines, with him often being cast as the pious believer as a character foil to Dean who is often cast as a very sinful person. This is shown when a town outlaws drinking, gambling and premarital sex in order to gain. God’s favour and Sam remarks that those things are “90%” of Dean’s personality. It’s also revealed that Sam prays every night and has done so since childhood. This connection of Sam to God s further strengthened when in season 15 Sam and God or in this case Chuck are rather literally tethered by the bullet that Sam shot him with. Another thing to note about this is that the “bullet” is made of Sam’s flesh and blood, further showing that despite Sam constantly praying and giving to God it ultimately only leads him to be harmed.

The God that exists in Supernatural is no longer the hallowed name that we all know, this version of God only takes, instead of giving like the merciful version of the Lord that children are told about who helps and cares for humanity. This God has existed for so long that he only knows boredom, and consequently created Dean and Sam to entertain him. Dean was always His favourite with Chuck intending for him to become the vessel of the archangel Micheal, a holy and noble job. Sam on the other hand, was created for only one purpose, and that was to become the vessel to Lucifer, Dean’s opposition. Sam was never created, or intended to be holy or even able to attain that title, even despite his longing to do so. He can pray and give himself to the Lord, but is unable to attain or regain purity.

Sam must, through the trials, combat evil by closing the gates of hell, in a way reminiscent of how Christ had to suffer the persecution, bearing off the cross and eventual crucifixion. Jesus was always aware of his fate, just as Sam was during the trials. They both understood that in order to better humanity, they would have to suffer and eventually die. The trials were Sam’s cross to bear, just as Jesus was only able to accept minimal help throughout his suffering. This help, for Sam comes in the form of Dean, who helps kill the hellhound and takes care of Sam, just as the bystander who carried Jesus’s cross for him for a time. They both were able to help share the load, even if it was only a temporary relief.

Sam is also referred to throughout the show as an abomination and unclean, by both himself and other characters, particularly in plot lines that are heavily rooted in religion. During the trials in season 8, Sam recalls a time when Dean was reading a book to him about the knights of king Arthur and their search for the holy grail and Sam says that despite wishing that he could go on a similar quest he knows that it’s impossible as he’s “unclean.” This further cements how despite being the most openly religious and pious character in the main cast of the show, apart from Castiel, he is not considered holy enough to serve the Lord. This is due mostly to what happened to him as a baby when he was fed demon blood by Azazel in order to groom him into becoming the antichrist and leader of the demon army. As I discussed in my last essay on Sam Winchester, this is a very obvious metaphor for CSA (child sexual assault), especially due to the line “so he could bleed in my mouth.” This quote in particular pinpoints this original “sin” as the catalyst for the subsequent events of Sam’s life.

The theme of purity and by extension, holiness is incredibly prominent in Sam’s character and plot lines, especially during the demon blood arc and subsequently any one that involved religious themes or ideals. Because of the fact that he’s “impure”, Sam is unable to reach “true holiness.” The closest that he ever came during the 15 season and 327 episode runtime of the show was during the trails in season 8. Not only do the trails bear a striking resemble to the trials that Jesus himself had to endure, specifically the 40 days in the desert, but they also help to “cleanse” him of his sins and wrong doing. Whether they were committed on him by others on done by his on hand seems to not matter to the God that exists in Supernatural as they all bear the same consequence. These perceived sins render Sam impure, unclean and unholy.

All of this is further highlighted during the season 15 reveal that Sam, Dean, Castiel and by extension all of the characters in the show are nothing but playthings for the all powerful God, or as he calls himself, Chuck. Sam Winchester is not special, not holy and not favoured by the Lord. He is but one of many, existing only through the lense of how entertaining he can be to his God. It’s revealed that he was created on a whim by a bored God who wanted something interesting. He, along with Dean and Cas, find out that they are one of the many versions of themselves that God or Chuck has created, and that they have only survived this long because they were interesting to him.

Another period of suffering that Sam goes through for the greater good of humanity is his time in the cage. During the season 5 finale, Sam Winchester, once again gives up his autonomy in order to save people. He allows Lucifer to use him as a vessel, Sam then overpower’s Lucifer and causes them to both fall into the cage the Lucifer was originally trapped in. Sam, in many ways does this as a repentance for his sins. In this case, it’s the sin of allowing himself to be manipulated and groomed into drinking demon blood and subsequently, freeing Lucifer from his cage. This action results in Sam being stuck in the cage with Lucifer, where it is heavily implied that he was not only tortured for thousands of years in every way imaginable, but also raped and sexually assaulted. When he is finally freed, it’s only his physical form, or body, leaving him soulless. While he does eventually regain his soul, he is so traumatised that he is hospitalised for a good amount of time. During this period, he is constantly experiencing flashbacks and hallucinations of Lucifer, in a manner that is heavily reminiscent of PTSD. However, like most heavy topics in the show, this is fairly quickly brushed over.

To conclude, Sam Winchester is one of the most pious and prayerful characters in the show, which is a stark contrast to his brother. However, he was never intended to be a holy man and was thus doomed from the start. Despite suffering plentifully, he is incapable of reaching sainthood or canonisation as he will never be holy, clean, or pure enough in the eyes of the angels or the Lord.

#christ!sam #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #sam and autonomy #dean winchester #castiel #demon blood sam winchester #boy king of hell sam winchester #chuck supernatural #religion in supernatural

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jackles010378 · 6 months

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Regarding Y/n

What if it was you that got hit with the memory loss spell instead of dean? Dean and Sam try everything to cure you....

(Dean winchester x y/n)

In the quiet town of Lebanon, Dean and Sam, were grappling with a challenge unlike any other they had faced before. It began when y/n Dean's girlfriend jumped in front of him to shield him and accidentally became the victim of a powerful memory loss spell.

Dean paced back and forth in the bunker, his heart heavy with concern "I frickin hate witches" he yelled. He couldn't bear the thought of y/n forgetting him and the time they had spent together. She was the love of his life, and the idea of being a stranger to her was tearing him apart.

Desperate for a solution, Dean picked up his phone and dialed Rowena's number. The powerful witch, usually a source of knowledge and assistance, was the only hope he had left. But to his dismay, Rowena informed him that she had encountered this particular spell only once before and had been unable to find an antidote.

Left with no other choice, Dean set off on a mission to locate the witch responsible for casting the memory loss spell. Sam stood by his side, ready to help his brother however he could. He didn't want to leave y/n on her own so he phoned Jody and Donna, both women dropping everything to come be with y/n, the women that once saved their lives. Dean knew it would be a treacherous journey, fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Their first lead led them to a small town on the outskirts of Kansas. The locals spoke of a mysterious woman who had recently arrived and possessed unique magical abilities. Dean and Sam tracked her down and demanded answers.

The witch, Lilya, revealed that she had cast the spell under the command of a rogue coven, seeking to eliminate any traces of supernatural interference in their lives. The coven had brainwashed her, exploiting her powers for their nefarious purposes.

Determined to help y/n restore her memories, Dean and Sam convinced Lilya to guide them to the coven's hideout. They ventured into the heart of the forest, where dark magic permeated the air. The brothers had faced countless supernatural threats in the past, but this felt different. This time, their objective was not to destroy evil, but to save their loved one.

As they delved deeper into the hidden lair, Dean and Sam encountered a series of increasingly complex traps and spells meant to deter intruders. But nothing could stop their unwavering resolve. They fought through every obstacle, leaving no stone unturned.

Finally, they reached the inner sanctum, where the coven gathered to harness their powers. A battle ensued, the sound of spells reverberating through the room. Dean fought with all his might, his motivation fueled by the love he harbored for y/n.

In the midst of the chaos, Sam managed to find the original witch, the one responsible for casting the memory loss spell. Power crackled in her fingertips as she prepared to attack. But Sam, quicker than lightning, intercepted her, overpowering her with sheer determination.

With the threat eliminated, Dean rushed back to y/n, trembling with anticipation. He held his breath as he recited the reversal incantation he had discovered during the fight. And as the words left his lips, a surge of energy enveloped y/n, her eyes widening with recognition. After the spell she passed out. Sam Jody and Donna looked on, panic set in their faces. Dean picked her up off the sofa and carried her to their bedroom. He lay her gently on the bed fearing the worst.

A few days had passed and Dean was getting worried, but then she whispered his name as her eyes fluttered open, "Dean." Relief flooded through him, as though a weight had been lifted from his heart. y/n's memories returned, washing over her like a tidal wave. She held onto Dean, tears of joy and relief streaming down both their faces.

From that day forward, Dean and y/n cherished every moment they spent together. The experience taught them the importance of love, resilience, and the unbreakable bond they shared. And amidst the chaos of their hunter lives, they never took a single memory for granted again.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #jackles #jensen ross ackles #supernatural #spn cast #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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texas heat

pairing: dean winchester x disabled!female reader

summary: when the texas heat causes a bad flare up in your body, you lose your temper with dean. but that doesn't stop him from taking care of you.

warnings: swearing, angst, dean being a charming fucker, fluffy ending

word count: 2.9k

a/n: a huge thank you to my darling @mars-rants-a-lot for trusting me with this, and being so informative and helpful to make sure this was as accurate as possible. i hope this brings the comfort you were looking for. this one's for you. 🖤 as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Being in the car for three hours straight did nothing to help the sour mood that you had woken up in. Despite changing sitting positions several times to the extent your body could handle, you couldn’t seem to get comfortable in the Impala. Not only did your lower back feel incredibly stiff, like a tense rubber band that had been stretched entirely too thin, there was also a sharp pain aching in your knees. Someone might as well have taken a white hot iron to them with a vengeance.

When Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a motel, you didn’t wait for him to assist you in getting out like you normally did. Instead, the second he shifted the gear into park, you pushed open the passenger side door, antagonizing the sting of merciless arthritis even further along the column of your wrist as if you had tossed a lit match into a bone dry field. Putting your cane down firmly on the concrete, you attempted to use it along with the door handle as leverage to push yourself upwards. The Texas heat was even more unforgiving as it seared your skin without a layer of glass protecting it, and you could already feel sweat beading along your hair, like some kind of saltwater crown.

While you were struggling and sweltering, Dean had quickly jogged around to your side, pushing the door open further and ducking down to be eye level with you.

“Whoa, easy there sweetheart. Lemme help ya.”

He wore that dazzling toothy grin that you adored so much, and his subtle charming dimples that settled above the edges of his lips were on full display. Dean was already reaching out to place his hand on your waist to help you get out of the car, just like he had done a thousand times before. But between the blazing heat and the searing pain spreading throughout your body like catastrophic wildfire, you didn’t find it nearly as endearing as you normally did.

It snapped the final paperthin straw of patience that you had.

Shoving his hand away spitefully with all the force you could muster in your agonizingly sore wrist, you narrowed your eyes into vexed slits and glared up at Dean.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. I’m disabled, not helpless. Can you just back off?”

The bright smile on Dean’s lips fell harder than an angel from grace, and clouds of shock and perplexity suddenly cast over his handsome features. It was as if his crisp green eyes had turned sour with dejection when your acidic words reached his heart, leaving searing scars in their angry path. Dean Winchester, who had spent his entire life hunting monsters and demons and every kind of evil imaginable, was completely frozen on the spot. You had never lashed out at him before, and he couldn’t produce a single clue in his brain to figure out what he had done wrong to upset you.

Getting out of the Impala on your own was harder than competing in an Olympic sport you hadn’t trained for, and it only depleted your energy even further. The ground seemed to be wobbling under your feet the way a bridge in a fun house would, and you abruptly began to rue your decision to stand up so quickly after sitting in a car for three hours. The wind was knocked out of your lungs by your own impatience, and the weight of your frustration settled on your chest brick by brick with every step you attempted to take. The unforgiving stiffness in your wrist made it extremely difficult to grasp the handle of your cane. Medusa might as well have turned your hand to stone with the way you couldn’t move your fingers under the handle of the cane, or grasp it at all.

Every little thing only fueled your resentment towards your own body, and it made you want to scream. Not even three minutes of trying to walk towards the motel room on your own, and your heart was palpitating furiously beneath your rib cage while you floundered with panic trying to breathe. The sun’s rays nearly blinded you, forcing you to tilt your head down, afflicting you with a sense of vertigo that had everything around you spinning faster than a rogue carousel. A dull headache began to throb at the base of your skull, rising louder in volume the more the extreme heat depleted your body of hydration, rendering it a barren desert. The sweat streaming down your skin was almost molten, and it caused your clothes to stick uncomfortably to your body like a foreign second skin.

Dean’s name was caught in the back of your throat, but your mouth was so dry, and your tongue felt like it had shriveled three sizes, that you couldn’t get it out. The sound of your cane clamoring against the concrete barely registered in your ears, and for a moment, your vision went completely black. But as you felt yourself free falling into some kind of abyss, a pair of strong arms caught you.

Floating in and out of consciousness, the comforting pressure and warmth surrounding you made you feel like you were wrapped in your favorite anxiety blanket. But then you smelt the familiar cologne of gunpowder, whiskey, and mint. You knew exactly who that scent belonged to. You would recognize the melody of Dean’s steady heartbeat anywhere. It had lulled you to sleep on several occasions. An arctic blast suddenly nipped at your heated cheeks, and it caused you to sigh in content feeling the way it lowered your body’s internal temperature.

The moment you felt the pressure and warmth becoming faint, your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at Dean in pure panic. He took in the alarm written clearly on your features, and reached out to gently take your hand as he bent down slightly to adjust the pillows behind your head.

“I’m just gonna go get your bag, alright? Be right back.”

The soothing timbre of his unspoken promise soothed your anxiety slightly, and Dean’s protective gaze remained on you while he rounded the motel bed and headed for the door. He liked to keep an extra bag for you in the Impala just in case you were ever running low on anything. You had once made the joke that he could do a pop up weapons depot and a hospital right out of his trunk.

In record timing, Dean was crossing the threshold of the motel room and was over to you in less than four strides. Sometimes you forgot just how fast he was. Those adorable bowlegs could really move. There was a look of pure concentration embedded on his sharp features while he pulled out various items from the bag. His petal pink lips were pursed slightly in a faint pout, chestnut brows were drawn together, and the crystal green of his eyes had darkened considerably in a way you’d only seen when he and Sam were getting ready for a hunt.

“Dean-”

“Don’t talk. You need water.”

The faint croaking of your dehydrated vocal chords barely registered any volume in the quiet hotel room. Meanwhile Dean’s gruff command seemed to echo off the tacky red and orange art deco wallpaper that was peeling at the crown molding and baseboards. You watched him remorsefully as he mixed a strawberry electrolyte packet with a bottle of water and shook it mercilessly. He always remembered to get your favorite flavor.

Dean twisted the cap off the water bottle and set it on the night stand for a moment. Snaking his arm behind your back, he carefully sat you up gingerly, positioning the pillows behind your back and neck to allow you to sit up comfortably. After placing a heating pad against your lower back, he delicately lowered your back against the pillows and grasped two pain reliever pills between his thumb and index finger and held them in front of your mouth.

“Here, take these.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t argue with me when I can see how much pain you’re in. Take ‘em.”

You knew better than to argue with him when he had his mind set on something. Parting your lips just enough for him to drop the pills into your mouth, you gazed up at him softly as he brought the bottle of water to your lips and gently slipped his left hand into your hair to cradle the back of your head.

“Drink the whole thing. Take your time.”

The juxtaposition of Dean being so firm yet so gentle with you at the same time always amazed you. It was rare you ever saw him treat anyone else like that, and it made you think he reserved it just for you. Your heart wanted to believe it was because he cared about you, really cared, and that he wanted to spark that fuse of friendship to explode into something colorful and more like you did. But your brain dismissed that it was simply because you were disabled and that you were vital to him and Sam as their person behind the scenes.

After finishing the entire water, Dean set the empty bottle down on the nightstand and turned the heating pad on medium heat. The bloom of warmth slowly started to ease the ache in your lower back, and you were suddenly aware of the pain in your jaw from clenching it so hard during your grueling POTS flare up. Dean swiftly but tenderly removed the braces from your wrists and knees to allow your body to sink into relaxation. He carefully removed your shoes and slipped tall compression socks on your feet before unfolding your weighted anxiety blanket and placing it over you delicately and tucking you in.

The air was still thick and tense with your treacherous treatment of him earlier, and the guilt pooling in your stomach nearly made you nauseous. He didn’t deserve that. He was just trying to help you. He was always trying to help.

“Dean, I'm sorry.”

Dean’s entire body language changed as soon as he heard the tears in your voice. His broad shoulders visibly relaxed beneath his forest green flannel, and his hardened features morphed into a soft look of empathy. His eyes were back to their normal shade of enchanting green, and they were shining with understanding and compassion. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, Dean took a seat on the bed next to you and hunched over slightly, resting his elbows on his denim covered thighs.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I was mean-”

“You weren’t mean. You’re havin’ a bad day, and you’re struggling, and I didn’t catch it. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Leave it to Dean Winchester to try and shoulder the blame for something that was nowhere near his fault. Emerald guilt was already forming around the outer rim of his irises, and even though there was still a lingering flame nipping at the nerves in your wrist, you stiffly reached out for one of his hands. As soon as Dean caught your fingers in his peripheral, he instinctively enveloped your hand delicately in his larger one. His hands were always so warm, and even though they were a bit rough with scars and callouses from a lifetime of trying to be the best soldier, to you they felt soothing and were a sense of tangible comfort.

“Listen to me. What happens to my body is not your fault. It’s out of your control just as much as it’s out of mine.”

“We were on the road for three hours straight. I shoulda stopped, given you breaks from sittin’ so long. I shoulda made sure there was enough refrigerant in the tank. The A/C wasn’t hardly blastin’ a damn thing. I shoulda just left you at the motel in Arkansas-”

“You said you didn’t want to leave me alone because Sam-”

“I know, and I didn’t. But better you bein’ in a nice cool motel than fuckin’ Texas. The heat here’s too much for you, sweetheart. I shoulda known how it was gonna hit you. I shoulda made sure you were drinkin’ your electrolytes the whole ride-”

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze to halt his self-condemnation, he finally met your gaze. A tender smile graced your lips as you shakily lifted your hand up to place on the side of his cheek, enjoying the slight tickle of his coarse scruff against your palm. He instantly leaned into your touch, and his body deflated slightly in content at the contact. You brushed your thumb along his sharp cheekbone to the best of your ability and let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head slightly as you gazed at him in adoration.

“You take on too much, D. The weight of the world isn’t yours to carry.”

“I’m not worried about the world. I’m worried about you.”

The firmness in his deep voice and the intensity of his gaze nearly knocked the wind out of you all over again. You weren’t used to him being so serious unless it was regarding a case or something with Sam.

“I’m alright-”

“You blacked out.”

“And you caught me and took care of me, like you always do.”

You were too exhausted to argue with over the over six feet of pure stubbornness sitting in front of you. The electrolytes were steadily getting rid of your cotton mouth and foreboding sense of dehydration, and the heating pad felt marvelous against your agitated lower back. The motel bed surprisingly did not feel like it was made of cardboard, and the pillows Dean had placed around you almost felt cloudlike. As you closed your heavy eyelids and let out a deep exhale, you could still feel Dean’s intense gaze on you, and an idea to melt the icy tension suddenly popped into your head.

“You know D, there is actually…one thing that I think would really help me right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin, hearing Dean shuffle closer on the bed. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew exactly what look of concern and curiosity was plastered on his features.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Peeking one of your eyes open, you stared up at him with faux innocence.

“Well…I mean…I don’t want you to go out of your way, you do have a case to work-”

Dean shook his head firmly and gestured with his chin down in your direction.

“Tell me whatcha need.”

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against your forehead, like a damsel in distress in an old Hollywood movie, as your lips pursed into a distressed pout.

“Salted Caramel ice cream.”

Dean’s expression of concern quickly vanished into a deadpan look that let you know he was absolutely and completely done with you, and it made you burst into stomach cramping laughter. Dean tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was silently asking God why me.

“And I thought Sammy was dramatic.”

When he swiftly stood up from the bed, you attempted to hide your grin while staring up at him in faux annoyance.

“Hey, you have to be nice to people that are disabled.”

Dean arched one of his chestnut brows as he turned his head to stare over at you in a playful look of defiance.

“Not if they’re a brat.”

When he opened the door to the hotel, you couldn’t help but giggle at the look on his face.

“Oh! You know what would also really help? Frescas con crema. But make sure it’s-”

“Strawberry. I know. Drink your damn salt water. And do not put on Criminal Minds.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know how you sweat when that one guy with the dorky haircut and permanent frown shows up.”

“You mean Hotch?”

Dean pursed his full lips in slight annoyance seeing the grin on your face and the slight purr to your voice when you said his name. Tilting your head to the side slightly, the mischievous grin stretched further over your lips.

“You know Dean, you have that exact same ‘dorky’ haircut.”

Dean let out a dry scoff and crossed his arms across his chest, face twisted up in absolute rejection.

“No I don’t. Mine is way better than his.”

“You’re kinda frowny sometimes too. And you do have an FBI badge.”

Dean’s expression melted slightly into a look of recognition, like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. Before you could tease him anymore about it, he grabbed the remote and placed it on the tv stand across the room, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction.

“No TV, take a nap.”

“But Dean!”

“Nap, young lady!”

As Dean shut the door behind him and you watched him through the window stalk over to the Impala pouting like a child, you couldn’t help but laugh. Once the roar of the engine faded down the street, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and smirked to yourself as you opened an app to pick up on the last episode of Criminal Minds you had left off on.

“Sorry, D. You’re not coming between me and Hotch.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x disabled!female reader #dean winchester x disabled!fem reader #dean winchester x disabled!f reader #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic

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pamwritessometimes · 5 days

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Roots in my dreamland

Dean Winchester x Forest Spirit!Reader

Summary: Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

Loosely based ivy by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (bring protection with yourself, yes, even to a forest), P in V, mentions of being naked in the snow, fingering, crack ending, grammar mistakes galore.

The wind howled through the towering trees, winter’s chill clinging to the air as Dean wandered deeper and deeper into the forest. He wasn’t sure why he kept on going on this path. There were no signs of danger, no clear trail to follow, yet something kept dragging him in. It felt ancient here, in this part of the forest, like time itself was buried in these moss-covered grounds.

The reports of strange occurrences in the area had led him here in the first place: people disappearing, then reappearing with no memory of where they’d been. Dean had taken it as another case, another monster to hunt… but what he found instead was something he didn’t understand, and certainly something he couldn’t really fight.

He had found her.

His steps slowed as he reached the edge of a small clearing. The pale light of the crescent moon covered everything in a soft, silvery glow, casting shadows on the ice frozen ground. And there she was, standing just beyond the oak trees, her figure nearly blending into the darkness of the brusque, winter night.

She looked at him as if she’d been waiting.

She always did.

Dean didn’t know her name. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what she was. Her skin glimmered, like the moonlight itself was part of her, and her eyes – deep and dark, just like the forest itself – held some sort of timelessness in them. Every time he saw her, he felt like something inside him was growing, something he couldn’t quite control.

“Why do you keep showing up?” he asked, his voice rough, soaked in frustration. “Every time I get close to leaving this place behind, I—” He broke off, his mind going momentarily frigid in the air. “I come back.”

Her gaze softened ever so slightly as she took a cautious step toward him with her bare feet leaving no mark in the snow. She was now close enough that he could feel the soft glow of her skin radiating off her eternal warmness and the unusual flowers threaded in her locks. “Maybe it’s because you belong here more than you think.”

Dean’s chest tightened. Belong? He didn’t belong anywhere, least of all here in this strange, enchanted place. But he couldn’t deny that every time he saw her, a part of him felt like it was coming home.

“You need to let me go” he whispered, though his feet stayed rooted to their spot.

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, she looked almost sad. “You can’t fight what’s already growing inside you.” she said quietly. Her hand lifted, brushing gently against his cheek. The warmth of her touch like fire beneath his skin.

Dean stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. “What is this?” he rasped with eyes wide, his hand instinctively catching hers, holding it against his face. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to pull her closer or push her away. “Why can’t I…?”

She smiled softly, but there was an edge of sorrow in her eyes. “You’ve planted your roots here” she whispered. “And so have I.”

He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to believe that he was tied to this place — to her — but the truth of her words cut deeper than any blade. And he had his fair share of experience with those. Every time he tried to walk away, she pulled him back, and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t seem to break free.

“I– I can’t stay here. This…” He gestured to the forest around them, then to her. “This isn’t me.”

“I know.” she said simply. But she didn’t move away. She stood there, her eyes searching his, like she was waiting for him to make a choice he didn’t know how to make. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of all the things he was supposed to be doing, all the people he was supposed to be saving. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t keep coming back. And yet…

“I don’t want to leave..” he admitted, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing over her skin. “I can’t.”

She leaned into him then, her body soft and warm against his. Her fingers traced the line of his clean-shaven jaw. “Then don’t” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. He groaned, the weight of everything crashing over him at once. His responsibilities, the danger, the distance between their worlds (whatever her world was in the first place), none of it mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was her.

“I’m already in too deep” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You’re in my head, in my damn dreams. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop coming back right here. To you. I can’t keep my distance from you.”

“I know” she said, her lips ghosting over his. “I feel it too.”

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, his mouth was on hers, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss was raw, desperate, like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground. Her body pressed against his, soft and warm and so right, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care about the consequences. Only the ethereal feeling of her silky skin against the palm of his hand and the velvet of her lips. She kissed him back with the same intensity, her hands tangling in his hair as they stumbled back, their bodies melding together. He could feel the heat rising between them, the fire building in his chest as he lost himself in her…completely, utterly, involuntarily lost.

They sank to the icy forest floor, the snowy moss cool beneath them as they tumbled into each other’s arms. Though, somehow, Dean didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel his skin being affected by winter’s brusque. Her hands trailed patterns over him, her touch so incredibly soft, almost like a ghost, but it magically made his body immune to the weather. He responded with equal vehemence, his lips trailing down her neck, tasting the woodsy warmth of her skin.

“Dean” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, but there was something else there too, something fragile, like she was holding back. “You need to–”

“No” he cut her off, his voice rough. “I don’t want to think about it. Not now.”

She hesitated, her breath hitching as his hands moved lower, pulling her closer. “But you’ll have to leave.”

Dean’s movements stilled, her words slicing through his hazy state of desire. She was right. He would have to leave. This, whatever the hell this was, couldn’t last. He didn’t belong in her world, and she didn’t belong in his.

But for now, he didn’t care.

“For tonight” he murmured, his lips brushing over hers, “Just– please.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and after a long moment, she nodded as a sign of her silent agreement. They moved together again, slower this time, like they were savoring every moment, every touch, every warm glow of her hand on his skin. The world outside the forest faded away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the soft gleam of moonlight, the ancient trees standing tall silent around them.

Dean kissed her lips slowly, his mind completely fogged by need. He didn’t know her, didn’t understand exactly what she was, but none of that mattered now. Not in this moment. Not when every part of him was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, couldn’t fight. Just for tonight, he let himself get lost in her. His hands found their way to her soft, leaf-woven dress, fingers trailing along the strange fabric that did a sinfully poor job at hiding her curves. As he slid his hands down her waist, her lips parted in a heavenly moan, a testament of her sharing the same need as him. His fingers traced slow and purposeful patterns along her upper thigh, teasing her skin beneath the hem of her skirt (or whatever magical leaf-dress she was wearing). Their breath met halfway as she arched into him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed down her neck, tasting the warmth of her otherworldly pulse beneath his lips.

He leaned back slightly, looking into her eyes, feeling the gravity of the moment settle around the pair. “I want you” he murmured. He really did. He had no idea how, why or who, to be frank, but he craved her.

Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to look into his emerald green orbs. It was just like the forest. “Then take me” she whispered back.

With a slow movement, he pressed her back against the soft, icy moss. The world around them slowly faded as he kissed her again. Deeper this time… pouring all his desire into the action, savoring the taste of her lips, and the way her celestial presence made him feel. His hands explored her body, making it his goal to commit every little line to memory. He wanted to remember this. Her hands slid under his shirt, warm fingers dancing over his skin, fueling the fire in him. He could feel her heat radiating against him and he responded to that by deepening the kiss, wanting to wipe everything out of his memory, except for this.

His fingers were still under her dress, exploring the soft skin of her thighs, inching closer to her honey-soaked pussy. As he finally met her heat, she gasped, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, her body arching against him as an encouragement for him to continue.

Dean met her gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation, but he saw none. He slowly slid his fingers deeper, feeling her sweet cunt envelop him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a low moan escaped her lips as he began to move his middle finger in and out. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he couldn’t help but murmur a breathless “You're incredible. So incredibly beautiful. So wet for me already.”

With each thrust of his fingers, he felt her walls clench around him, and eventually he found a rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the forest around them.

“Dean” she moaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. “I need to feel all of you.”

Amidst hearing that, he captured her lips again, pouring every drop of his need into the kiss.

He couldn’t wait any longer either. His own need had reached a fever pitch. His fingers slowly slipped out of her core, which earned a whine from her parted lips. He kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers as his fingers worked at the button of his jeans, his breath coming in shallow gasps. She was more than happy to help him, her hands quick and eager as she pushed his jeans down over his hips, his painfully hard length springing free from its confinements. He could feel the heat of her body, the way she pulled him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist, not a single thing between them now.

Dean’s hand slid up her thigh, guiding himself to her pussy, and he hesitated for a brief second, meeting her gaze again. Again, there was no doubt in her eyes, only a quiet plea for him to close the distance between them finally. He slid the tip of his cock up and down her sloppy heat a few times before he finally began to ease himself in. He pushed into her slowly, inch by incredible inch, savoring the feel of her cunt hugging him so snug. The soft gasp that escaped her lips as he filled her was enough to make his cock twitch inside of her. She was tight, and oh, so warm, and every inch of him ached with the need to move, but he forced himself to go slow, to feel every moment, every convulsion of her pussy.

Her hands gripped his back, nails biting into his skin as her hips rose to meet him, her body urging him deeper and deeper – despite his effort to stay calm just for a moment. The feeling of her wrapped around him was almost too much and not enough at the same time. He groaned, his head falling against her shoulder as he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting into her once more, harder this time, losing himself in the way she moved beneath him.

She moaned his name, the sound sent a shiver down his spine. Dean’s pace quickened, his hips moving in time with hers, each thrust deeper, harder, rougher.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips finding his again as they moved together, the rhythm growing faster, more urgent. Every sound she made, every arch of her back, every gasp and moan spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge.

Dean’s hand slipped between them, finding her clit, and the moment he touched her there, she cried out, her body trembling underneath him as her release hit her, hard and fast.

“Dean, oh my— i’m going to—” and with that, her walls clenched around him, gushing all over his length. Threatening to slip out of her, because of the force of her release, he thrusted himself deeper. And then, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I can’t—” and with a low groan, he followed her over the edge, his muscles tensing as his hot, white seed filled her, his hips bucking erratically as he tried to make his orgasm last as long as it is possible.

For a long-long moment, neither of them dared to mov. Their bodies tangled together, the only sound is their ragged breathing as they came down from their highs. Dean’s forehead rested against hers, their lips brushing in soft, lazy kisses as they lay there, utterly spent.

They lay together in the quiet of the clearing, the warmth of their bodies cutting through the chilly air. Dean stared up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the branches overhead. His heart was still racing, his mind already starting to spin with what would come next. He still had no idea who she was. He still didn’t know if she was the one behind all those strange happenings around the area.

Then reality crept back in.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Dean blinked, once, twice, his body stiffening. The warmth that had enveloped him was gone, replaced by the biting cold of the winter air. He lifted his head, eyes squinting in confusion as his surroundings snapped back into focus. The enchanted glow, the surreal energy of the forest… all gone. Just the regular, old clearing. And there, standing at the edge of it, was Sam, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“Dude” Sam started, his voice incredulous, “why the hell are you naked? It’s the middle of winter.”

Dean frowned, slowly realizing his current state. He glanced down at himself, sure enough, he was sprawled out on the cold, snowy moss, wearing nothing but his birthday suit. The warmth of her body and everything that had felt so real was now a distant memory. And yet… he swore it had happened.

“I…” Dean sat up, quickly gathering his clothes from the ground and putting them on, trying to come up with some kind of explanation that didn’t make him sound like a lunatic. “I was, uh… investigating.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Investigating? Naked? In the freezing cold?”

Dean let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s— It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, well, make it quick, because I’ve been looking for you for an hour, man” Sam grumbled. “What happened? You were supposed to check out the weird stuff going on, not have some naked winter party.”

Dean’s gaze darted around the clearing. She was nowhere to be found, no sign of her leaf-woven dress, her touch, not even a trace of her pinewood scent. It was like she had never been there. The forest felt… ordinary now. The magic, the connection… they all seemed to have vanished with her.

“I’m not sure” Dean admitted, standing up and brushing the snow off his legs, the chill sinking into his bones now that reality was firmly back in place. “There was this… girl. I think.” He paused, frowning. “Maybe?”

“Girl?” Sam’s eyebrow shot up even higher.

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing her for a while now… She was—” Dean gestured vaguely, trying to put words to what had just happened, but it felt harder and harder to grasp the details. “She was real, I think. Or… maybe she wasn’t. She could’ve been some kind of forest spirit. Or maybe I hit my head?” He shrugged, genuinely at a loss. “I don’t know, man.”

Sam shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “So you’re saying you’ve been seeing a girl, possibly not real, and decided to strip naked in the middle of the forest when you saw her once more?”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, his frown deepening. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“It is weird, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, motioning around them. “Do you see anyone else here? Anyone at all?”

Dean looked around the clearing again, trying to find any trace of her. There was nothing, just the trees, the snow, and the silent forest. No footprints, no clothes, no evidence that anyone other than him had been there at all. And yet, he could still feel her, the way her body had moved against his, the way her voice had whispered his name in the quiet of the night.

“I swear, it was real” Dean muttered, more to himself than to Sam. “I felt it.”

Sam sighed, getting Dean’s jacket from the ground and tossing it to him. “Whatever you felt, we need to get out of here before you freeze to death. We’ll figure it out later.”

Dean caught the jacket, wrapping it around himself with a huff. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, or if anything had happened at all, but there was still an ache in his chest, a feeling like he’d left something behind in that clearing. Or maybe it had all been in his head. Maybe the forest had cast some kind of spell on him, drawing him into some half-dream state where reality and fantasy blurred together. He wasn’t sure anymore. Was he— was he one of those victims he read about? But why does he remember it then?

As he followed Sam out of the clearing, Dean glanced back one last time. The trees stood tall and silent, like keeping the secret of the girl’s presence. There was no sign of her. No shimmering figure stepping from the shadows, no soft voice calling him back.

But for just a second, he thought he saw something. — a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a faint, glowing shimmer in the air.

He shook his head. Maybe he was imagining it. Or maybe… just maybe… she'd been real after all.

Sam glanced over at him, frowning. “Dean, you okay? You look… weird.”

Dean smirked, pulling the jacket tighter around him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wondering if I’m gonna need therapy after this.”

Sam groaned. “Probably. Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes before you start hallucinating snow fairy porn again.”

Dean chuckled, though his mind lingered on the thought. Snow fairies, huh? He wouldn’t put it past the universe.

But as he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder — had it been real? Or had it just been a fever dream? He’d never know for sure. But either way… he wasn’t complaining.

"Next time, though" he muttered under his breath, "I’m bringing a blanket."

Don’t even get me started. The crack fic muse made me do it. Not that I mind.🤭

Let me know what you think.

And have a nice day!🤍

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural x you #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester smut

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miss-madness67 · 9 months

Text

Mistakes (Jack Kline)

The mistakes that brought you closer to him.

The first mistake you made was to accept working with the Winchester brothers. You should have never broken your habit of working alone. The second mistake you made was turning your back on that witch bitch. She sent your way a curse that was powerful enough to knock you off your feet. The third mistake you made was opening your eyes after you fainted. You should have known better than to believe the spell was purely physical. So when you stared up into the blue eyes of the Nephilim, you know you’re fucked, and you don’t care.

“God, you are beautiful.” You emphasize each word, your gaze remains locked, not caring about the rest of the world. Jack looks positively puzzled by your statement, but it is not him who speaks.

“You must’ve hit your head harder than we thought.” Dean’s voice comes from your right, and it’s only then that you realize you’re no longer in the witch’s hut where the battle went down. Instead, you’re back at the Winchesters’ motel room.

“What?” You wonder out loud, your eyes shifting to Dean for a second, before looking at Jack again. “It’s not my head hurting, but my heart.” Your following words are dramatic, “Jack, I’m sorry I didn’t notice before. You are the most beautiful Nephilim I have ever seen.” If heart eyes were a thing of reality, you’re pretty sure you would have them now.

“Thank you?” Says Jack, and although he put space between you to move further back, your grin doesn’t falter.

Sam murmurs your name softly, “are you sure you’re ok?” He inspects back and forth between you and Jack. Maybe it’s the way you’re staring at the Nephilim, or maybe the fact that a witch did throw a spell at you, realization quickly dawns on his face. “A love spell?” He chuckles, “I was worried about that bright red light she cast on you, but it’s just a love spell.”

For the first time since you woke up, you pay attention to Sam. “Love spell? What are you talking about?”

It’s the eldest brother who answers this time. “Right, the witch put a love curse on you and that’s why you’re looking at Jack as if you wanna take a bite out of him.” The smirk on his face is all too know-it-all as if he had solved the mystery by himself.

“Curse?” your voice is low, threatening, all directed at Dean. “You think my love for Jack is a curse?” You stand from the bed, being mindful of pushing Jack back gently. Fortunately for Dean, your gun is far away from your reach. “I might have met Jack just a handful of times, but my feelings for him have grown stronger by the second.” Your next words are for Jack, “There’s a part of me that has known you my whole life, Jack. Can’t you feel it too?” Your smile is all too bright as you place a hand on the Nephilim’s chest, right above his heart.

As it turned out, your confession only further convinced the siblings that you had been hit with a love spell. They decided that the only answer was to kill the witch -who got away earlier- for the curse to lift. Of course, with your hazed thoughts, you were no use. So, to prevent you from doing anything reckless to stop them, they all agreed to leave you in the motel with Jack.

Leaving you alone with Jack was both a good and a bad idea. It prevented you from screwing up in the field, but it also gave you what -who- you desired most: Jack. “Don’t worry,” you tell him as you sit across from him on the small table. He has been tense ever since the brothers left. “Even if they kill the witch, my love for you will remain the same.” Jack smiles awkwardly across from you. “You don’t believe me?” You challenge.

“I- you don’t really know me.” He whispers softly, but still, there’s a blush on his cheeks that spurs you on.

“And I told you that doesn’t matter.” You grin at him. “I’ll prove it to you!” You stand up from your chair and walk his way with determination.

Instantly, he jumps from his chair. “Wow, what are you doing?”

You continue walking his way until his back collides with the wall. “I’m proving to you that our feelings are real.” You place your hands on his chest once again, the crazy beating of his heart brings a smile to your face. “If you didn’t feel at least something, I’m sure you would control yourself better.” Despite his lack of encouragement, Jack doesn’t push you away. “I mean, you’re Nephilim, you could overpower me easily.”

Jack seems to be considering his options, and for a moment, you believe that he might actually push you away. Instead, he grabs your hands to hold them in his. “I think you’re very attractive, and I would love to get to know you… but maybe we should wait until the witch is dead, don’t you think?”

Rationally, you should accept what Jack is suggesting. You should step away and give the boy some space. It’s safe to say that you’re not very rational right now. With an angelic grin adorning your face, you pull Jack by the hands and closer to you, your faces only inches away. He is too stunned to do anything when you close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips touch his experimentally, first. The contact is almost delicate, timid, and innocent. Nothing too passionate, unlike the words you uttered before. Perhaps you’re afraid he’ll run away. Once you’re sure that he won’t, your body relaxes. Your hands let go of his and travel all the way to the nape of his neck. The Nephilim’s hands fall by the sides of his body. He doesn’t know what to do with them. It is then that you start to move your mouth on his. Jack’s follows your rhythm insecurely, almost as if it were his first kiss. He sighs and doesn’t step away, your chests pressed together, molding perfectly. You melt into the feeling of him, but you don’t dare to push further. You want to eat him whole and more, just like Dean said. But Jack is too sweet for that, so you control yourself. What you have right now is too good to be true. It is definitely worth pretending you are hexed by a witch. The last mistake you made, was falling in love with Jack Kline for real.

#jack kline x reader #fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #spn x reader #jack kline #jack kline x you #supernatural fic #jack kline x ofc

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