#dean trash bag

[shallowseeker]

Could you please do one of your play-by-plays with Dean and Cas fight in 11.03 The Bad Seed?

I have a partial that's embedded into the giant freeform Samwena post! (scroll a thousand years, and it's at the very bottom under "Last Bit")

I think... if you don't mind, I'll talk about the symbols in the set here, since the play-by-play is a bit embedded in the Samwena meta already? If that's not what you wanted, hit me again!

///

High Ground, low ground, and meeting in the middle

This scene is steeped in symbolism, illustrating the connection and contrast between Cas and Dean. The motifs surrounding them visually embody their respective struggles and personalities while framing their journey toward mutual understanding and, as Dean maybe views it, forgiveness and equilibrium.

///

Cas:

Creepy blue-eyed mask, brown-and-tan-bear, imposing larger-than-life soldier, tall red scaffolding.

Tall "Heavenly" scaffolding

Symbolism: The scaffolding represents Heaven and the heavy burden of Cas’s celestial duties. It symbolizes the high expectations placed upon him. The responsibilities always seem to loom over him. (We often see him pictured with skyscraper paintings for the same motif.)

Fragility: Scaffolding is both strong and precarious, reflecting Cas’s internal struggle—holding others up even as his own foundations are unstable.

Juxtaposition: Its towering nature contrasts with Dean’s low "valley" of stacked pallets, visually framing their dynamic as one of opposites that complement each other.

Creepy blue-eyed "Jimmy Novak" mask

Uncanny familiarity: The mask evokes Jimmy Novak, Cas’s vessel, but it's wearing a wicked expression. It’s a haunting reminder of Cas’s sacrifices and the cost of his mission, as well as the evil he's committed in the name of Heaven.

Puppet symbolism: Paired with the attack dog spell, it reflects the manipulation Cas has faced, being lured into false choices by others. Metatron’s schemes, Sam's pressure to save Dean his way, and now Rowena’s attack dog spell aimed to mold Cas into a tool for their ambitions.

Contrast: Where the mask is lifeless and haunting, Cas’s actions—falling towards Dean—are full of life and vulnerability, reclaiming his agency in their shared connection.

The brown-and-tan teddy

Overcoat resemblance: The coat evokes Cas’s steadfast loyalty, symbolizing his commitment to the "lower" human family over the lofty ideals of higher corporations or celestial orders. It represents his role as a protector and provider—a fatherly duty he has embraced with quiet resolve. Beneath its stoic, utilitarian exterior lies a softer, more vulnerable core, reminding us that his dedication to humanity is not just a role but a choice rooted in compassion and love.

Truck connection: The brown color also ties to Cas’s truck, a practical and grounded symbol of his efforts to navigate the human world. It suggests Cas's willingness to carry burdens alongside Dean.

Heart: The teddy bear symbolizes Cas’s emotions—a visual representation of his big heart. "Too much heart was always Castiel's problem." Interestingly, the bear also ties him to Mary, Dean, and Jack, who each have their own connections to this symbol. Together, they form a thread of resilience and affection, woven through their shared stories and struggles.

Toy soldier behind the fence

Imposing presence: The tall toy soldier is standing at attention, evoking discipline, duty, and resolve, embodying Cas’s role as Heaven’s soldier and champion.

Fence as separation: The soldier stands behind a barrier, symbolizing the divide between Cas’s celestial obligations and his desire for personal connection. It reflects his struggle to reconcile these two worlds, the tension between divine orders and his own choices. The fence is not only a literal barrier but also a metaphor for the isolation Cas feels as he struggles with the roles imposed on him by Heaven, feeling often like an attack dog behind a dog fence, especially in the face of manipulation like Rowena's attack dog spell.

Contradiction: The rigid soldier contrasts with Cas’s current vulnerability, highlighting how far he has come from being Heaven’s unquestioning weapon to someone who prioritizes free will and love.

///////////////////

Dean:

Panda bear, trash bag, supporting shipping pallet, "low" valley

Shipping pallets ("low valley")

Grounded symbolism: The stacked pallets behind Dean represent a low and grounded point, reflecting his pragmatic, earthy nature. While Cas’s scaffolding reaches upwards, Dean's structure is rooted to earth and his newly restored humanity. Both the scaffolding and the palettes exist to support others—a foundation and a framework, designed not for their own glory but to uplift and enable those around them. Whether holding the weight or providing the colors, they are essential yet humble, serving quietly so others can stand tall or shine brightly.

Contrast: The pallets create a "valley" beneath the towering scaffolding, visually framing their dynamic: Dean grounded on earth, always supporting his family at the expense of his own happiness, Cas's connection to Heaven, carrying out Heaven's missions at the expense of his own emotions.

False choices: Just as pallets are tools for transporting heavy loads, they symbolize Dean's emotional labor. The false choices imposed on him—becoming Cain’s heir to the Mark or succumbing to Crowley’s manipulation to get ahead in Hell—tried to burden him, framing his suffering as necessary to support others' ambitions. (And often taking away his agency through dishonesty, disinhibition, violation, and manipulation...)

Black-and-white panda

Symbol of duality: The panda’s stark black-and-white design mirrors Dean’s struggle with his inner contradictions—his tough exterior versus his deeply caring heart.

Dean's heart: Like Cas’s teddy bear, the panda hints at forcefully suppressed emotions. It represents Dean’s suppressed desires for simplicity and peace, often overshadowed by his heavy responsibilities to others.

Caretaker role: Pandas are famously “lazy” but also intensely nurturing. This parallels Dean’s role in the group: someone who masks his nurturing instincts behind a gruff exterior, often doing the “heavy emotional lifting” further embodied by the garbage bag nearby.

Garbage bag

Emotional labor: The garbage bag signifies the emotional burdens Dean has carried, often for the sake of others. He cleans up messes, both figuratively and literally, reflecting his tendency to internalize pain to protect others.

Self-worth: Dean’s bag highlights the emotional weight he shoulders for those around him, often suppressing his own feelings as he prioritizes the well-being of others. Dean’s bag represents internalized responsibility, highlighting his struggle with self-worth and his tendency to see himself as expendable. :(

///

Coercive roles: Overcome by Rowena’s attack dog spell, Cas’s violent actions against Dean reflect how external forces have repeatedly manipulated him—first by Metatron, then pressure by Sam, and now by Rowena. His motifs emphasize the imposed expectations of Heaven, his vulnerability, and his struggle to reclaim agency. Dean’s recent history with the Mark of Cain echoes Cas’s experience. Both were enticed by false choices that appeared necessary or inevitable—first with Crowley manipulating Dean to get him to take out Abaddon, then Dean being force-fit to Cain’s parallels—all engineered while damaging his free will. Each was a tool, trapped in narratives designed by others to fit their ambitions, often at the cost of autonomy. Dean in particular is framed as a support character. Dean is the one who defeats Abbadon, but Crowley takes the credit and at first relegates to Dean as a side accessory in his own Kingly narrative.

Agency (temporarily) restored: In trying to free Dean and restore both his free will and decision-making faculties, Cas lost his own, becoming overwhelmed by the attack dog spell while trying to follow Sam’s coercive plan. (Despite voicing his misgivings and pushing Sam to come clean, Cas found himself bound to the plan he couldn’t fully support... and he suffered the consequences for it.)

In this moment in 11x03, Dean rushes to save Cas, and Dean and Cas are temporarily broken free from their imposed molds, reclaiming their right to define themselves. The act of reaching for each other becomes a shared rejection of the constraints that others tried to impose on them.

Unfortunately for them, this victory is only temporary—an uneasy re-establishment of equilibrium. The cycle will inevitably repeat, but next time, it will be Lucifer who claims Cas's free will, as Cas sacrifices it once again in a desperate attempt to save Dean, whose free will is now beholden to/enslaved to Amara.

[rootbeerfloats]

guess who dropped their phone into a bucket of sanitizer while trying to clean tables at work and it subsequently became unresponsive and stopped working . ☝ this guy

[ostaramoon]

circa 2006

all you did was help the charming, too-cute-for-his-own-good frat president get home after your school’s infamous 24 hour st. patrick's day celebrations. you tucked him in, cured his hangover with a greasy breakfast and some advil, and even tidied up the house a bit—leaving enough food for the rest of the brothers. becoming the frat sweetheart? That wasn’t part of the plan. but dean thinks you’re cute, and he’s not exactly subtle about letting you know—no matter how many times you brush him off. the brothers, a chaotic band of hilarious idiots, quickly turn your semester into a whirlwind of antics. you bring the girls to the parties; they make sure everyone has a good time. it’s all harmless fun, right?

dean leans against the kitchen counter, sipping from an old faded mug labeled ‘world’s okayest president’. his eyes track you as you finish up wiping down the island. “y’know,” he starts, a smirk playing at his lips, “for someone who claims she’s not into greek life, you sure do spend a suspicious amount of time here.”

you shoot him a pointed side-eye, not missing a beat as you work, “that’s because your frat house would collapse into a biohazard zone without me.” pausing, you jab a finger in his direction, “you’re lucky i haven’t called the cdc.” 

dean’s smile is annoying, but something about those dimples and pretty green eyes makes your heart skip, “admit it—you like it here. you like me.” 

you snort back at him, waving him off. “i like not stepping on stale pizza crust when i walk through the living room. that’s about it.” 

dean sets his mug down—too carelessly, of course—and internally cringe at the drops of coffee that splatter onto the freshly cleaned counter. “nah,” he closes the distance between you, stopping just shy of invading your space. his voice dropping into that low, infuriatingly confident tone. “you like me. and you’re cute when you’re pretending you don’t.” 

“dean,” you sigh, crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one hip, “the only thing cute about this place is the raccoon i saw digging through your trash last week. pretty sure he’s running for treasurer.” 

he lets out that boyish laugh that makes your stomach do all sorts of annoying fluttering, “you’re deflecting,” he coos. “but it’s okay,” his hands go up in mock defense, “i’m patient. i’ll win you over eventually.”

fighting a smirk you step away to collect your bag from the corner of the kitchen and sling it over your shoulder. “sure you will, mr. okayest-president. in the meantime, i left breakfast for you and your raccoon.” with that you give a nod and head towards the front door.

“thanks, sweetheart,” he calls after you, “don’t forget—you’re stuck with me.”

“we’ll see about that.”

idk irl frat boys r the worst but frat boy deannnn agh….. i might do more with this idk

[killthewhisperingart]

Meet Me After Class

Pairing: Gym Teacher!Dean Winchester x History Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 790

Summary: Of course he's decided to bother you while you're grading papers.

Warning(s): Smut. Smut. Sex.

A/N: One of my friends challenged me to do this, so I finished this in one night. :3

I am an 18+ Blog.

You groan softly as you shake your head, marking another answer wrong on a students paper. You didn't understand, you had pushed the test back by a week to better help your students prepare, yet they didn't utilize any of the extra time correctly. You know for a fact that this student probably didn't know what class this was.

You knew once you passed these exams back, and your students saw their grades, you'd be their worst enemy.

You rub your hand down your face, popping your wrists before stretching backwards. Your back pops in a few places before you melt, dropping your arms and preparing yourself to get back to grading. A glance to the clock on the wall tells you that you've been in your classroom for an hour and a half since the final bell rang.

A knock at your classroom door startles you, a stray mark now on the essay question in bright red ink. You scoff, capping the pen before pushing out your chair, walking towards the door, your lanyard jingling with every movement.

Dean smiles, holding a bag of takeout. You look at it, before slowly dragging your gaze to his face, your hand on the door still.

"What's this?" You ask, your brows furrowed.

"Food." He says simply, stepping into the classroom. He's no longer in his usual Gym attire, having changed into his usual jeans and T-shirt, though the whistle still lingers around his neck. You think he probably went home, got food, and came back to work. "You know Food, right? You eat it." He teases.

You can't hold back your groan, rolling your eyes before going to your desk. He pushes the door closed behind him as he enters the room, jiggling the handle to confirm it's locked. You crash into your chair, and it rolls backwards. You take your lanyard off, tossing it onto the desk as you pick your legs up to set your feet on your desk, careful to not step on the papers.

"Thought we weren't supposed to put our feet on the furniture?" He taps your foot as he sits on your desk.

"We're not supposed to put our asses on tables either, but I'm not getting onto you about it right now." You snap halfheartedly, hand out as he puts a burger wrapped in tin foil onto your palm. Still warm.

He wastes no time in devouring his own burger, grease running down his fingers, no regard for the sauce on the corner of his mouth. You scoff out a chuckle, opening your own meal.

You both eat in silence, well, at least you do. He can't seem to stop himself from making obscene noises for his burger.

"You're always working," He finally comments, tossing the wrapper in the trash, wiping his face.

"Well, I actually have to *work* at my job, so." You grin sarcastically, tossing your trash at his face. He takes it in stride, catching it and tossing it into the trash.

"I work!" He defends himself.

"No you don't!" You guffaw. "You get paid to make students stay in shape, but you don't do the same."

"I work out regularly!" He points out. "My stamina is amazing."

"As if."

-

The desk is hard against your chest, your hands gripping the sides hard. The wood furniture scrapes against the floor harshly with every rough thrust from behind you. His jeans rub the skin on the back of your thighs as he fucks into you.

"What was that?" He asks, a cocky grin on his face as he positions his head next to yours. "What'd you say about my stamina?"

"Shut up-" You choke out, whining as you scrape your nails against the wood.

"I can't hear you." He teases, biting your ear lobe, tugging roughly. You almost squeal, but you clamp a hand over your mouth, knowing you couldn't possibly be the only two people left in the school.

He's so damn talkative, never knowing how to shut the fuck up and just fuck you.

You push yourself up, turning your torso to grab the whistle around his neck. His eyes widen as you jerk it forward to connect your lips to his. He eagerly returns your kiss, kissing you just as sloppily as he eats his food.

His thrusts turn sloppy, his chest stuttering with every shaky breath. His saliva drools into your open mouth, and eagerly you swallow.

His grip tightens on your hips, body shuddering one last time with three final deep thrusts. He stays seated within you, collecting himself, the whistle jingling as you let go.

"Fuck-" You mutter, kissing him one last time. "Maybe your stamina is fine."

"Just fine?"

"We'll have to test this again."

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: happy birthday to me! when this posts i'll officially be older, and celebrating by being cringe (writing this). i also love that picture of misha. it's him at my birthday party for real. he told me himself (lying)

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: rock your body—justin timberlake

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Special occasions like this are few and far between

• The Winchester family hadn't had a proper birthday in decades. While Dean clung to memories of gas station twinkies in replacement of a birthday cake, Sam remembered most of his birthdays with a sort of sad animosity. Up until walking out on his dad for Stanford and spending his birthday that year with Jessica, he hadn't had a single enjoyable birthday party. Maybe that was part of the reason he refused to let you feel the same way about your own birthday—even if none of you were kids anymore

• Worst case scenario, the world is ending again and you all have little time for delicacies. If that's the case, you'd get a quick pat on the shoulder from Dean, one excited bear hug from Sam, and very confused Cas wishing you the best of births before being told to continue packing the shotguns with salt rounds

• "With age comes responsibility, so keep loading those guns. Spider-Man said that."

• "For someone that watches so much trash tv, you know so little about media, Dean." You snorted at your friend, fingers nimmbly crushing salt into a line of rigid red shells before moving onto the next group

• "Shut up before I decide to give you your birthday noogies." He pointed a finger at you from across the room with a single raised eyebrow. Off to the side you saw Cas ask Dean what birthday noogies were not-so-quietly, and you struggled to hold back a laugh

• Even in the worst situations, they could always manage to make you smile

• Best case scenario, however, it's a free day. Nothing to do, no devils to fight, no ghouls to stop—nothing. Just you, the guys, and time on your hands that you all normally never have. So what better way to utilize it than with a little surprise party?

• Sam would be the most into the whole birthday party shtick. He'd insist that it was the least they could do for you after all the years on the hunt together, and even got Dean to budge after a few minutes of petty debating

• "It's stupid and cheesy, Sammy. We're grown adults. We've fought the devil beforr for christ's sake." Dean gave his brother the stink eye from his spot in the drivers seat. Groceries stores and Mom & Pop stores passed them by as they ventured into the nearest town, but neither of them paid attention to their blurred surroundings

• "Come on Dean." Sam twisted his torso and turned to face him fully. "Don't tell me you don't remember the look on their face last month when we brought them back a souvenir from our hunting trip in Alabama. You would have thought we brought them a new car. Besides, this is the one chance we've had in a while to actually celebrate something." Sam's eyebrows tilted up as he recalled the memory, shooting a knowing look at Dean's side-profile

• "So what? I say we just tell them happy birthday like a regular person and call it a day." Dean grumbled

• "Is that why you're driving in the nearest direction of the bakery here?"

• Dean didn't respond

• "That's what I thought."

• "Shut your pie-hole or I'm kicking you to the curb."

• Once the boys get back to whatever new place you all are holed up for that week, a couple of crinkled bags in hand, they call on Cas to help out with setting up whatever decorations Sam had forced Dean to throw in the cart

• Cas didn't take nearly as much convincing to partake in the setting up of festivities, but he certainly did need a lot of it explained

• "I thought angels were familiar with the concept of birthdays?" Dean asked at one point while watching Sam pull part of a cake out of the oven. His hand was slapped away when he went to grab at it, and he glared at his younger brother momentarily

• "We are." Castiel's gruff answer came shortly. "But we stopped keeping count after the first couple thousand years. And it was never done like—" He flicked the party hat atop his head curiously, "—this."

• "What did you guys do to celebrate?" Sam asked while popping the lid to a can of store bough frosting open

• "Pray."

• "Naturally." Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically. A blanket of silence fell over the room after that as Sam set out to frost the first part of the cake. Then—

• "Hey. How come none of you are wearing paper hats?"

• "Oh, trust me Cas. It'll mean a lot more to them if you were the one wearing it." Dean's grin was borderline evil as he looked at the angel

• It's safe to say that you laughed the hardest you had in a while once seeing Cas looking so hesitant in a mini cone hat

• Overall, it's the best birthday— the best day —that you've had in a long time

• You didn't need much, and as a hunter you'd come to expect almost nothing. But knowing that your friends— the short tempered, college dropout, otherworldly friends that they were —took it upon themselves to set all this up for you was the emotional equivalent to a punch in the gut. A lovely emotional punch in the gut

• "If you start crying, I'll leave." Dean snapped at you when you eventuallyvoiced how much this meant to you. But the threat was empty, and you all knew it

• Sometime during the party, you had managed to wrestle a paper hat of his own onto his head, and how it sat on the side of his head like a crooked unicorn horn. Occasionally he'd reach for it as if to take it off, then lower his hand with a small smile

• "Shut the fuck up and give me a group hug, Dean." You grinned with teeth, gesturing at him to stand up

• "Wait, no, I take it back that's worse."

• "I will kill you, Winchester. I swear I'll do it."

• You ended up getting your group hug that day, even if it took Castiel trapping Dean between you and him to get him to stand still

• "I hate it here." He griped with a groan. Sam could only laugh as be watched his brother struggle in Cas's iron grip, and said angel was smiling a bit to himself. You felt your heart swell; even if the look on Dean's face was downright murderous

• "Smile or I'm egging Baby on my birthday night." You said before setting the camera's timer and holding it up above you all

• "You wouldn't—"

• "Watch me."

• All four of you have your own copy of the photo from that night, kept in your seperate pockets and bedside table drawers. To this day you find yourself smiling when you look at it, and even if you'd never know it, so do they

[illumose]

Please, don’t go — d.w

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PAIRINGS : female reader ( 2nd person ) x dean winchester

⋆⭒˚.⋆ CONTENT : angst if you squint, fluff, happy ending

⋆⭒˚.⋆ SUMMARY : You weren’t supposed to stay that long with the Winchesters.

masterlist

author’s note : like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this little piece of writing

These past months, you grew accustomed to living with the Winchesters in the shitty motel of Colorado’s smallest town. It became the base of your small operation. You loved sharing meals with Dean — probably because it meant ordering pizza and drinking beer. You even shared a bed in a tiny room down the hall. It was not as comfortable as you had hoped, however, it meant cuddling with him, every single night.

The hunt wasn’t supposed to last this long. It appeared to be a simple case of werewolf. Yet, as time passed, Sam suspected that another monster was going on killing sprees. A monster that disguised itself as a werewolf. For months, you tracked him across the state, often encountering other malicious beings. A ghost, a wendigo, a lone vampire. Today, it all came to an end. Sam found a pattern in the shapeshifter’s selection of victims. Somehow, it had a thing for blondes, whether man or woman. He posted as bait while Dean and you waited with a silver blade.

Now, you were back at the motel, packing all your belongings inside a duffel bag. Dean watched you like a hawk, his lips tight. In another world, in another dimension, it would have ended differently. Nonetheless, you knew that the Winchesters worked solo. They had been functioning this way for years. Dean, especially, did not become attached to anyone. Never. He hooked up with random girls in bars that he’d never set foot in again. He’d flirt with waitresses whose names he’d forget in seconds. You were just another girl he crossed paths with. The next day, he’d have forgotten you.

"Stay," he declared, his eyes fixed on your back.

"What?"

"C’mon, you know what I’m talking about." He looked nervous, almost as if he never expected those words to leave his mouth. A mouth you dreamed to kiss everyday.

"Well, I don’t."

He walked up to you and sat on the unmade bed. He looked you right in the eyes. "I didn’t think I’d grow to love you, but I did. I don’t want to go back to the bunker and wake up alone. I don’t want to watch trash TV without your little comments. Fuck… I can’t see myself getting in the Impala and driving away from you. Your place is with us. With me."

He seemed so sincere. He litterally wore his heart on his sleeve. You were dumbfounded. How did you not see this coming, you wondered? You spent so much time afraid of being rejected that you never considered the other option. Dean liked you.

"Please, don’t go. I love you. And I feel like a teenage boy going through his emo phase."

You sat next to him, your hand immediately finding its way on his knee. "Good thing I love you too. It would’ve been awkward."

He grabbed your face and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. "Sam’s at the window, with his goofy smile," he whispered in her ear. You let out a laugh. You knew that you owed all of this to his younger brother, a firm believer in the power of love.

"Let’s give him a show," you suggested, grabbing Dean by the collar and kissing him with fervor.

Sam withdrew almost instantly from the window with the irresistible urge to throw up and his eyes full of happiness for his brother.

[hawkeyetrained]

All Over Him

Dean Winchester x reader (established relationship)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester

Warnings: language (like 1 i think), mention of blood and cuts, stitches

Summary: The boys come back from a hunt injured. Dean gets a little jealous when Sam gets the attention first.

Word Count: 853

Sam, Dean, and I were working a small salt and burn case in a town about three hours from the bunker. “Something easy.” Dean had said when we packed up to go. I was in charge of research this time, needing more time off from hunting due to a messed-up shoulder I got on the last case. Long story short, the witch was stronger than we thought, and I was thrown through a wall, my shoulder taking the entire hit. Dean instantly benched me until I could work without wincing from pain, leading to my curled-up position on the motel bed with the TV on and some random movie playing, even though I was reading my own book, relaxing in my pajamas with one of Dean’s flannels wrapped around me and rolled up to my elbows.

So, when the front door slammed open and two mountains of men came barreling in, both bleeding but one far worse than the other, I was on my feet. “The hell happened?” I half yelled, shutting the door, and throwing my hair into a bun in order to help my boys.

“Damn ghost got the jump on Sam. Took a shard of glass to the shoulder, got hit a few times.” Dean dropped his baby brother onto his bed as I grabbed the first aid kit from my bag.

“Go take a shower so I can see your cuts, De.” I told him, already starting to work on helping Sam. I sat myself beside Sam, pulling his shirt down in order to see the cut on his shoulder from the glass. “Damn Sammy. You’re gonna need stitches.” I quickly grabbed the needle and thread before handing Sam the whisky bottle from the bedside table. “Gonna need it.” Sam took a large swig from the bottle then handed it back, allowing me to pour a little on the wound to clean it.

Sam hissed in pain and his fingers twisted into the back of Dean’s shirt I was wearing. I started the stitching and made sure to be as careful and gentle as possible, keeping the stitches straight and even like my mother had taught me years ago. Dean had come out of the bathroom around the time I had moved to cleaning the cuts on Sam’s face. The older Winchester got dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a simple grey shirt. He had a glare in his eyes that was directed to his little brother and that he didn’t have when they came in.

“Ok.” I finished cleaning the last cut and picked up my trash, being careful to keep all the little pieces of glass in the tissues. “You’re good to go. Be careful with those stitches so you don’t rip one.”

“Thanks.” Sam released his hold on my shirt before he stood and took off for the bathroom to shower. I tossed my trash away then moved over to the other bed with the oldest Winchester laying across from it, favoring one side of his body.

“Dean? Can I look you over?” I asked as I sat down with my supplies.

“Why? You and Sammy looked pretty comfy over there. Sure, you don’t wanna go check on him again?” Dean had a venomous tone to his voice.

“The hell his wrong with you?” I questioned, crossing my arms over my chest. “You never let me check you first. It’s always Sam so I’m used to going to him first. He had glass in his wounds.”

“You didn’t have to be so close to him.” My eyes widened at his words. He was jealous of his little brother. “He didn’t need to be holding you.”

I took this time to gently toss a leg over his hips and sit in his lap. “Dean, baby? Sammy is like the big brother I never had. He was hurting and needed something to ground him.” My hands slid up his chest as I spoke, drawing a sigh from his lips. “Can I check your wounds now?” Dean nodded ever so slightly.

I repeated the process with Dean, getting him to sit and take a drink of whiskey to mask some of the pain that will come from cleaning his wounds. He didn’t let me move more than a few inches in order to get supplies, keeping me in his lap as I cleaned his cuts along his face and then checked the ribs he had been holding. “So, what’s the diagnosis doc? Will I live?” Dean asked as I finally packed away my things.

A smile crossed my lips. “Eh, there’s a possibility, but that all depends.”

“On what?” Dean played along.

“On if you take me out to breakfast tomorrow morning, just you and me.” Dean pulled me down to lay with my head on his chest and his arms around my hips, the blanket resting just above our legs.

“Of course.” He placed a long kiss to my head as Sam re-entered and flicked the lights off for bed. “Love you.”

“Love you too, De.” I snuggled into his side further as sleep engulfed me.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[according2thelore]

do you ever think about the fact that soulless sam kept the samulet? because i do. all the time.

we know from the show that dean doesn’t know sam kept the amulet until S11. check.

we know that dean didn’t know sam was alive after he jumped into the cage, and so sam didn’t go back to get any of his old belongings from dean. check.

the fact that sam still has the amulet means it was in his duffle/belongings, which dean kept the year sam was gone. makes sense. check.

but when they get back together, and sam has access to his things again, he keeps the amulet.

this is a soulless man, who looks at dean and feels nothing. he tolerates his concern, barely, but he’s more annoyed than anything at his constant attempts to “get sammy back.”

but he keeps the fucking amulet!! this man travelled for a year with the things he can keep in a backpack. he’s not attached to physical items because he doesn’t care for them. he doesn’t care for people.

and after a year of hard living, of living completely light and portable, presumably starting over more than once if shit got too hot to go back and get his things—HE MADE THE CONSCIOUS DECISION TO KEEP THE AMULET!!!

i’m sure it wasn’t an “aw. okay.” moment, but it sure as hell was a moment with sam indexing his bag, seeing the amulet tucked amongst his clothes or rolled into a tube of socks or pressed under the lining and leaving it! a sam who was not planning on getting his soul back and wouldn’t mourn it if it were gone!

he doesn’t wear it or bring it up, so it doesn’t fall into the hedonistic/“i like nice things” category that the charger falls into. it doesn’t serve a functional purpose.

i think sam kept it for the same bland contentment he shows when dean hugs him. just “okay.” that’s it. something is “right” about this, about existing in this state.

i’m sure his chest seized around something that was supposed to be there when he looked at it. there’s an inexplicable rightness to having the amulet close. thinking about it annoys sam, so he doesn’t think about it.

maybe he considered throwing it away, and dug it out of the motel trash 20 minutes later, angry and not knowing why.

HE KEPT IT!!! SOULLESS SAM KEPT THE SAMULET!!! SAM WITHOUT A SOUL STILL KEPT SOMETHING THAT “DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING” TO DEAN!!! BECAUSE IT STILL MEANT SOMETHING TO HIM!!!!

[thewritergx]

Nympho Sam Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: Sam, Dean, and y/n go on a witch hunt. Things take a wrong turn when Sam unknowingly becomes cursed.

Warnings: Guns, Knives, Blood, Sex Pollen, Rough Smut (no mercy, squirting, choking), Dom!Sam but still needy.

Word Count: 5K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

I had been hunting with Sam and Dean for about a year now. I met them on a ghost hunt in Texas, where we both showed up to the same house. I was thankful they showed up when they did, saving me from getting blown in the head by a spirit. After the hunt, we kind of just clicked and they decided to take me in. Sam said something about not “letting you leave to die alone on some stupid hunt”. Dean agreed. Honestly, they needed the touch of a woman in the bunker, lighten up the mood some. Sam and I often did research together, finding new monsters and ways to kill them. While Dean and I mostly drank beers and played first person shooter games. Call of duty was our favorite. I was thankful they gave me a permanent place to stay. For The first time in my life I had my own room and the closest thing to family. Bobby quickly became like an uncle to me, helping anytime I needed him. 

After a few hours of driving, we made it to a quiet town outside Charleston. Over the past few weeks there have been a number of strange deaths. A man choking on tens of razor blades, supposedly in candy. A woman drowned while bobbing for apples. It was clear a case was here. Sam and I had hit the books hard, studying a few different monsters that fit the case profile. When we got to the town, a short interview with the man’s wife resulted in many answers. While Sam and I spoke with the widow, Dean without any struggles, was able to find a hex bag behind the fridge and air vent. Clearly, we were dealing with a brave witch. One with a good amount of power. After a few hours of different interviews and flash in our fake FBI badges, Sam was able to locate a house where we presumed the witch dwelled. The perfect hiding place for her curses and magic. It was a lone house in the middle of a field, abandoned for years.

I sat in the back of the Impala as Dean drove behind the house, concealing the car behind a row of thick oak trees. The yard was overgrown, tall dead grass covered the back steps of the house. A fog had rolled in and the wind was blowing like a tornado. The steps to the house were made of cracked cement, gravel-covered and brittle. Inside, the walls were painted a cool brown, but many patches of the paint had piled away, revealing the bare walls underneath. The color, once lively, had turned to a dust dull shell of itself. Huge windows revealed the moonlight. Their wooden panes were broken. Glass was completely missing out of a few while others looked like rocks had been thrown into them, allowing the wind to hiss through. 

The air was thick and musty, dust seen flying with the naked eye. As we stepped, the floorboards creaked, a hiss echoing throughout the house's empty frame. Broken glass and trash littered the floor. We walked through the living room, Sam close behind me with his gun drawn. Symbols of red, maybe blood, were painted along the entrances of door frames. Some I recognized to keep out demons and angels. Dean made his way through a short dark hallway, lit only by the flashlight he carried.  

“Guys, over here��, Dean called out. Toward the end of the hallway was a locked door, which stood out from the lack of dust on the handle bars. 

“Someone has definitely been in here”, Sam whispered. Amongst the rest of the house, the door looked brand new. Dean swiftly kicked the door open, revealing a steep set of stairs descending to the ground. Sam went first, his tall frame obstructing my view below. I went next while Dean traveled close behind. The wooden steps creaked with every movement we made, reverberating all around us. I gripped the handrail, feeling the old rotted wood slightly crack under my grip. We finally reached the bottom of the steps, revealing a big dark room with cluttered boxes and left behind furniture. I searched for a light switch. It was freezing, and I could barely see the walls throughout the darkness. The ceilings were short, Sam almost having to bend over in an attempt to not hit his head. 

“Alright, watch your step”, Sam whispered. Dean and I nodded our heads, trying to step through the piles of old boxes. 

After searching the walls and ceiling, I found a string hanging in the center of the room. I pulled it and a dimly lit light shined. It wasn't bright but it was enough to add light to the space. With more light, we were about to see a corner of the room previously hidden. This corner was different from the rest of the space, less dust and no clutter. Sam approached the corner, finding a broken-down table filled with various items for a spell. It was dark oak, covered with a thick black cloth. It seemed to be a makeshift space for spells and curses, animal bones dangling from the filling above. In the center of the table a bronze bowl sat. A single human heart inside. Blood riddled the table, red drops aligning the bowl. A slightly opened box set next to the bow, filled with stones and various herps. It looked like a mixture of dried roses, egg shells, and a thick white paste I couldn't recognize. There were numerous candles, the wax was still dripping down. Whatever was here was still close by.

“What the hell?” Sam sounded perplexed, trying to figure out what spell the ingredients might be for. He knew he had seen this before but couldn't recall its purpose. Dean and I stood behind him, observing the scene. Each of us gripped our guns, witch killing bullets inside.

As we stood with our backs turned to the rest of the space, the light began to flicker and candles laid out on the table lit themselves. The air grew even colder and a loud scream like cry was let out. The three of us turned around quickly. Shadows advanced across the room as a woman dressed in a long worn-out cloak appeared. Her hair was long and matted. Silently, she brought up her hand, revealing long black nails and unleashing a force that knocked Sam over, onto the table. Sam let out a painful grunt as he crashed into the table. The bowl of blood and the heart spilled over him, and he quickly threw it off him. He laid for a second, turning his back and wincing. Sam let out a gag as he tried to wipe the blood away, remnants stuck to his shirt and hands. 

The witch began to chant something in Latin. A few words I made out were “desiderium, opus, flamma”. Her voice rang out and Dean began to get impatient. Dean shot several rounds, but she’s able to deflect them. She threw the gun from Dean’s hand, sending it flying across the room and landing hard on the floor. With her magic, she lifted Dean and I into the air, choking us as our feet left the ground. Sam was quick to stand, shooting back at her as he pulled himself off the table. It was a good distraction as a couple of bullets flew past her. She vanished, dropping Dean and I onto the floor. I sat, gripping at my neck as I tired to catch my breath fucking witches. She appeared again, grabbing Sam in a chokehold as she gripped tightly across his back. Dean quickly reached behind him, pulling out another good from the holster attached to his belt. The witch was smart, not giving Dean a good angle to shoot her that wouldn't hurt Sam too. In my pocket I pulled out a small hex bag Bobby packed for us. Back to the basics I guess.  I searched the room for a bowl, eyeing the one Sam threw off him a couple feet away. With the witch focused on Sam and Dean, I was able to run and grab it, blood sticky on the outside. The witch began whispering in Sam's ear. He trashed, trying to get her off him. He was able to knock her loose a bit. Dean took his chance to run at her, using the butt of his gun and slamming it against her head. She let out a groan and knocked Dean to the floor. I pulled out a match from my shirt pocket, striking it quickly as I threw the hex back into the bowl. I threw the match into the mixture and chanted the incantation Bobby taught us, “Furor divine virtute in infernum eam detrude” and threw the ingredients on to her. A thick cloud of black smoke engulfed her and blood began to pour from her eyes and mouth. She screamed and flames came from the ground, leaving ash as she quickly vanished to nothing. 

“Glad I practiced that,” I laughed. Sam grabbed Dean off the ground. Dean patted dust and a few spider webs off his pants.

“Dude, you reek”. Dean laughed as he looked Sam up and down, blood covering his shirt, hands, and a bit of his neck. 

“Take me home.” Same frowned, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and throwing it on the ground. 

I took a few pictures of the ingredients used on the table and the heart Sam threw by a mess of boxes and old junk. “For our research,” I explained as the boys asked what I was up to. “Never seen that before,” I mumbled mostly to myself. 

The boys and I made our way out of the darkness of the house, a creepy vibing causing me goosebumps. When we got back to the Impala, Sam quickly unbuttoned his flannel, throwing it in the truck of the Impala. He dug through our duffle bag of supplies, pulling out multiple bottles of water. He poured them onto his chest, trying to wash away as much blood as possible Without any access to soap or a shower. I tried not to stare but it was honestly a great sight to see. 

“Sammy, come on. Ain't staying out here all day”. Dean called as he got into the driver seat, Baby purring out as he turned the key. 

Sam let out a disgusted moan and climbed into the back seat. 

“No one is hurt, right?” I questioned, looking back at Sam and over at Dean. I sat in the shotgun seat, inspecting my body for any cuts. 

“I'm good, just stinky” Sam huffed out. 

“Stinky is an understatement”, Dean shot out. Luckily our hotel wasn’t too far away. Only about 25 minutes out. 

Dean turned up the radio, blasting Metalica. 

“What the hell was that witch saying anyway?” Sam asked. “I didn't recognize those sets of ingredients at all.”

Dean drove with one hand, tapping the steering wheel to the music. “Whatever it is, she's dead now. I say good riddance bitch” he smirked. 

Sam nodded his head, his eyes suddenly heavy. After a few minutes, he was slumped over in the back seat heavily breathing and lightly snoring.

I shot an eyebrow at Dean “he’s tired,” I laughed.

We drove for a few more minutes, finally arriving back at the cheap motel we all shared a room in. I was exhausted. I swear Dean almost passed out on the road a few times himself. Although our fight wasn't much, the day as a whole was long and drowned out. I Knew I wouldn't get much rest tonight, my adrenaline too high to let my body relax. Sam was still knocked out, his body heavy and worn. 

“Sammy, Sammy…” I lightly pushed against him, shaking his body awake. 

Sam opened his eyes, blinking a few times. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, adjusting to the lights of the Impala shining above. 

“We’re here already? Guess I feel asleep”. He mumbled. His voice was always so thick when he woke up. I tried to ignore it and focused on grabbing our stuff out of the car.

Dean parked the car just outside the room. Could never sleep too far from his precious Baby. Sam dragged his body out of the impala. He was a sweaty mess, dragging his finger through his long brown hair. He stumbled as he got out of the car, missing his first step.

“Wow, you okay?” I asked as I grabbed him by the shoulders.

Dean shrugged his shoulders walking closely behind us. 

“I just feel really really hot. I’m nauseous as hell.” Sam took another step forward. I could feel his body shaking. His breathing was unsteady and fast.

“Maybe you got car sick, let's get inside and I'll see what we have”. I held my grip tight on Sam, scared he was going to fall over. 

I supported as much of Sam’s weight as I could as I walked him up the few steps to the door, his big hand gripping tight around my waist. 

“Dude, what happened to you?” Dean asked, opening the door and throwing our bags down on the floor. 

“I don't know, I'm just so hot. Like my skin is crawling on fire. I need a fan” Sam's face was balled up uncomfortably. He kicked his shoes off, throwing them in the corner of the room. I led him to one of the beds, trying to set his heavy body down as softly as possible. 

“Here, just sit. I'm gonna get you something. Try to relax”. I hurried to the kitchen area grabbing some aspirin I sat on the counter earlier and a cold water bottle out of the fridge. 

Sam groaned as he laid face down in the fetal position, waiting for me to get with the medicine. 

“Here take this,” I leaned down, gently placing the pills in his hands and undoing the cap of the water bottle. 

“God, Sam. Your forehead is hot as hell. You need a shower,” I smiled slightly but I tried my best to take the situation seriously. It was clear he was in a lot of pain.

“Okay, okay. I'm gonna go.” Sam dragged his big frame up painfully, his hands close to his lower stomach. “I’m gonna throw up,” he mumbled as he rushed to the bathroom. 

“What the hell is going on with him?” I asked Dean, who had already made his way to the fridge pulling out a beer and a cold pizza. 

“I don't know. I mean he was fine before left that house…” Dean thought for a moment. “The witch. I saw her whispering something to him. You don't think, maybe it's still affecting him?” He had a bit of concern in his face now.

As we spoke, I heard Sam’s groans coming from the bathroom and water starting from the shower. 

“Let me see those pictures you took,” Dean rushed over. He grabbed my phone, scrolling through the pictures. 

“I don't recognize this at all. Seems like a pretty unique spell.” I whispered in an attempt to keep Sam from hearing. 

I listened closely as Sam continued letting out painful groans and heavy breathing from the bathroom. 

“Call Bobby, I'm gonna check on him.” I stood, knocking on the bathroom door. 

“Y-yeah, c-come in.” Sam crocked.

I walked in slowly, steam filling the small bathroom. “Sammy, I thought you were hot. Probably want cold water” I stated confused.

“God, my skin is itching. I need like, I don't know. I need…pressure”, Sam blurted out quickly.

“Pressure?” I asked confused.

“Yeah. I-I don't know. Something is seriously wrong with me. Feel like I'm gonna burst into flames but the hot water is helping.” Sam stood in the shower, his arms out, pressed against the wall to balance him. He tilted his head down, the water bouncing off his long hair and onto his body. As he looked down, he noticed another problem. He was hard. Like harder than he’d ever been his whole life. His dick was bright red and the sound of my voice ringing out across the room made it jump with every word I spoke. 

“Y/n, I-I need you to uh, need to to get out,” Sam’s voice was like a whimper. Pain and need thick from his throat. 

“Oh, okay. Just call my name if you need anything.” I tried to sound pleasant even though he just kicked me out when I was trying to help. 

When I walked out the bathroom, Dean was pacing back and forth. “Okay, well. Hold on, y/n is here now.” Dean put the phone on speaker, Bobby’s voice ringing out.

“Okay, y/n tell me everything you remember.” Bobby spoke.

“Well, there was a human heart, a lot of blood. Some herbs that looked like different flowers. Red roses maybe. There were like fifteen candles. I think they were pink. And she whispered something to Sam. Before that she spoke a few words. I think desiderium, opus, and flamma. That was all I could make out. Honestly, not sure what any of them mean.” I tried to recall as much as the events as I possibly could. 

The door to the bathroom gently opened a crack. “Y/n, could you uh, hand me some clothes?” Sam mumbled. He stood in the doorway, water dripping down his tanned skin. 

I quickly dugg in his bag, pulling out a pair of black boxers and a loose t-shirt. I handed it to him as he poked his hand out slightly through the door. “Here you go.” I smiled. My fingers brushed against slightly and Sam let out a whining sound. Not really like he was in pain, more like he needed something. 

I walked back to the phone, listening for more information from Bobby. “I mean, the roses made me think it’s gotta be a love spell. But the heart? That would be so, etching for intense power. I’m gonna do some research, call you back as soon as I find something.” I heard books opening as Bobby hung up the phone. 

Sam walked out of the bathroom, his hair shaggy and wet. He looked like a mess. 

“Sammy, you good?” Dean asked, meeting Sam’s eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. I feel a bit better.” He lied, laying back down on the bed. 

“Listen, I'm going to find a gas station that's still open. Get you some tea or some shit.” Dean spoke fast. “Call me if anything changes. Won't be gone long.”

Sam nodded his head, too strung out to answer.

I sat on the edge of the bed offering Sam a smile. He forced one out in return but I could tell it wasn't genuine.

“Can you turn on the Tv, need a distraction?” Sam’s head was tilted back, leaning against a pillow and the bed frame. He closed his eyes tight, and pulled the covers over him. 

“Of course,” I replied, grabbing the remote and flipping to the first free channel. A documentary about space played, “Seems relaxing,” I stated. 

Sam nodded, not really paying any attention to what played. “I'll be right back okay, just stay here.��� I walked to the bathroom grabbing my back. I changed quickly into a big shirt, a graphic T with a photo of Star Wars, ditching my sweater and bra on the bathroom floor. I pulled my jeans off and underwear off, replacing it with a pair of black Nike shorts. I was so ready to be out of those sweaty clothes. 

Sam stayed still, counting down the seconds I was gone. Every step I took away from him caused a shoot pain to ring out through his body. He was craving me, his dick still has hard ever, even after trying to jerk off in the shower. He brought his hand down to his member, snaking it under his shorts and pumping up and down a bit. It provided a bit of relief but he needed more. Needed you gripping onto him. 

When I walked back into the room, Sam was in the same position. His face was a bit more constricted than before. He looked at me, his eyes half opened. “That's my shirt,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, it was the first thing I grabbed when we left the bunker.” I smiled, climbing back in the bed next to him. “Need anything?” I asked softly.

“Yeah, I think. I um…not sure how to say this but I think I need you” Sam looked into my eyes, pleading.

“Well, I'm right here. Just tell me what you need me to do.” I sat up more, meeting his eyes.

“No. I mean like. God…My head was killing me but the closer you get, the better i’m feeling. It’s like my body is aching for you.” Sam’s face was serious but gentle.

“I don't understand what you mean“. My cheeks turned a bright red.

From across the room, my phone rang out, a high-pitched melody playing. I jumped up, grabbing it from the bar. “It’s Bobby”.

“Y/n? Think I found something…Something weird. Real weird. Bobby's voice rang out as I put him on speaker.

“Well, spit it out, Bobby. What are you waiting for?” I asked impatiently.

“Okay, okay. I think Sam is under a nympho spell.”

“Nympho spell? What the hell is that?”

“Well from what I'm reading, it's a sex spell. Kind of like what a siren uses. Lowers men into a witch's trap so they are more easily seduced.” 

“What? So it's like viagra in a spell? How do we fix it?” I looked over at Sam, his face hit and flushed.

“Well, the lore says men who fought off the spell but die from an intense fever. So as nicely as I can say this, Sam needs a piece of ass.” Bobby sounded a bit grossed out by that. 

“Okay, but the witch is dead? What am I supposed to do, stand on a corner and wait for a lady to offer herself right up?”

“No, no. The spell is focused on one person. You just need to figure out who that is.”

I thought for a moment, taking in Bobby’s words. “That makes sense…Bobby, I gotta go.” I hung up the phone quickly, meeting Sam’s eyes from across the room. He brought a pillow up to his hips, gripping it tight.  

I grabbed the phone again and called Dean.

“Hey, is he good?” Dean spoke.

“Talked to Bobby and um. Well, he basically told me Sam has a sex curse that can only be cured if we…ya know…do it.”

Dean was quiet for a moment before he started laughing. “So y'all gotta, what, just fuck?” He blurted out. 

“Listen, just don't come back to the room. I'll see if this works. And Dean?…I never want to speak about this night ever again.” I whispered.

“Alright alright, just be careful. Don't do anything you don't want to. I'll get the room next door.” 

I hung up, placing the phone back on the counter and walking over to Sam. I swallowed deeply. It's not like I haven't thought about it before, just thought it would happen differently, I guess. 

“Sammy, I think you’re right. Think you might actually really need…me.” I approached him slowly, kind of afraid of what my words might do to him. Sam was gripping the sheets under him, biting his lip so hard I think he might have drawn blood. 

“I think you're under a spell, sammy. One I can help with, if you’ll let me.” I stood at the foot of the bed waiting for his answer. God, okay. Please, Please. Just need to make this go away. Please.” He sounded almost drunk, slurring and groaning at each plea. I can't lie, it was making me go crazy too. 

“Okay, I will. I promise this will work”. I hoped it would anyway.

I swallowed and made myself more confident. I can do this. I will do this. Besides, I couldn't just let him sit here and die like this. I climbed up the bed, sprawling myself on top of Sam. My hips lined up with his. I immediately noticed Sam became relaxed, the grip on the sheets loosen and his eyes finally open. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Sam spoke, his voice calm now. His hand immediately reached for my waist, pushing me down on top of him. “I don’t know if I can stop if you let me start. I swear I never felt a need like this before.” Sam's eyes pleaded with me. 

“It’s okay… I just want to make you better. Just do whatever you need. I’ll be fine.” I met Sam’s eyes, smiling a bit. I was nervous and I knew he was right. He wouldn't be able to hold back at all. 

Sam looked me in the eyes before quickly slamming me down on the mattress, hovering over me. “I’m so sorry y/n but this is gonna hurt.” Sam spoke before pinning my arms above my head and crashing his lips against mine. 

He let out a groan at the kiss, bucking his hips into me for any sort of friction he could manage. He tasted like mint and smelled like fresh pine. I tried to keep up with the kiss as he sucked my bottom lip, dancing his tongue around mine. 

I roughly ended the kissing, ripping my shirt shorts off and throwing them across the room. The air sent a cold chill through me. Sam placed a string of kisses down my neck, sucking hard leaving a trail of dark purple bruises after every touch. A part of me loved that they would stay for days. 

Sam quickly pulled his own short off, his cock free. I watched as he grabbed his thick member, pumping it roughly. He had the biggest dick ive ever seen in person. Probably around eight inches and at least an one and a half inches thick. God, would that even fit? I guess it made sense, seeing as how the rest of his body was so big. 

Sam brought my legs up, putting him around his shoulder and lined his cock up with my entrance. I brace myself as he slammed into me without any warm up. No mercy. 

He dragged himself through me, slamming into my cervix so hard I would feel it for days. “Fuck sammy, feel you in my stomach.” I screamed.

“Be a good girl for me, give me that tight pussy.” Sam growled loudly, ripping through me with so much force I was already coming. A thick clear liquid leaked out of me, onto the base of Sam’s cock. 

Sam showed no signs of stopping, no care that I was already a creaming mess under him. He kept his pace fast and rough. “Fucking clench that pussy around me. Such a good little girl.” Sam growled. 

He brought a hand to my neck, gripping it tight. It was the perfect pressure at first, but he gripped down tighter, making all the air escape me. I tried to get him to stop but my words only came out as interrupted whines. He gripped harder, causing my yes to fall a bit. The room spun and I began seeing black. I swear I actually passed out before Sam finally let go, pumping into me harder and harder. 

“Sammy, please. It's too big, too much.” I did my best to get him to slow down. 

“No, it’s not. Be a good girl and take it.” He replied back. 

I felt myself go over the edge again, digging my nails hard into his back. I knew my nails would leave marks. Sam showed no signs of pain, in fact I think he liked it. 

“Tried to warn you, baby. Told you it would hurt.” Sammy mumbled, “Open your mouth little girl.”

I followed his instructions, a bit scared what he would do if I didn't. Sam leaned down, holding my cheeks and spitting roughly in my mouth. It was hot and thick as I swallowed, causing me to gag a bit. 

“Such a good girl. I love you, you know that?” Sam finally slowed his pace for a moment, meeting his eyes with mine. “Fucking love you so much, swear I always have.” He pressed his lips onto mine again. This kiss was different, slow and gentle. 

“Oh fuck, Sammy. I’m gonna cum again. Please. I can’t. I can't” My words were like cries as the head board slammed against the wall of the hotel.  

“Mmh, I know you can baby. Know you have more in you. Don’t give up on me now.” He mocked me, using a bit of a whining voice. 

His cock was driving me crazy. I could hardly keep my legs on his shoulders anymore. 

Another orgasm ripped through me. I started feeling like I was going to pee, a sensation I never felt heavy in the back of my pussy. “Sammy, Plea-”.

Sam cut me off as he quickly pulled his couch out, sending mu juices out like a water hose. “Fuck baby, got you fucking squirting for me already.” Sam bragged. 

I screamed his name, my back arching off the bed as he slammed back into me over and over. Tears filled my eyes as I begged him to cum, wet streaks falling down my face. He whipped them away with his thumb and brought it to my lips. I parted them slightly and began sucking. “That’s it baby. Just relax, let daddy do his job.” Same whispered deep in my ear. The name echoed through my thoughts. Didn’t expect him to like that. 

“Fuck, daddy. Please. I can't cum anymore. Daddy, please cum. Please cum inside me.” my arms fell by my side, no strength to keep them up anymore. 

“Fuck y/n so nasty for me. Want me to fucking cum? Breed this tight little pussy, huh?” He was condensing, slapping his balls against the base of my pussy like a maniac. 

“Please, Daddy. Just want you to cum.” I moaned weakly. 

Sam growled as he sped up his pace, moaning my name over and over again. I felt a warm liquid shoot into me as he began slowing down, dropping his body weight on top of me. 

I moaned and cried as I felt him go soft inside me, only pulling out when rolled over. 

Sam turned to me, placing soft kisses onto my lips and dragging me onto him in a hug.

“Y/N, you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you? What do you need?’ Sam rambled as I shook on top of him, a mess of juices. 

“Let me clean you up.” Sam stood walking to the bathroom and running warm water under a rag. He softly spread my legs a bit, whipping up and sign of him. I moaned, closing my legs to try and stop the sensation and pressure on my clit.

 Oh Fuck, I, bruised you. I’m so sorry y/n. Let me see.” Sam spoke as he moved my hair away from my neck, a string of hickey and bruised from his finger bright red.

“I-I’m okay. Just need you here with me” I moaned. 

Sam gently sat back on the bed, caressing my back and letting out quiet “Shh’s”.

“I did mean it. When I said I loved you,” Sam quietly spoke, placing soft kisses on my shoulder. 

“I know. Love ya too, Sammy”.

[rallentando1011]

Valentine’s Day With Donnie

(rise Donnie x gn reader)

Saint Valentine’s Day: a fickle holiday that celebrates even more fickle emotions, a day that forces the formation of many a precarious bond that statistically would not last

At least, that’s how Donnie saw it for the entirety of his life

Until you came along

Now, don’t get him wrong, he still thinks it’s stupid, but maybe something could be stupid and enjoyable

He means, he enjoys his brothers’ company, right? (/j… maybe /hj)

Either way, for you, he doesn’t mind giving Valentine’s Day a genuine go

So, when you come over on the holiday, Donnie’s ready

“As you know, I think Valentine’s Day is an example of rampant consumerism devouring the meaning behind holidays and people’s wallets, but there is something special about a day in which one can express their admiration for each other.”

“Wait… you got me something?”

“Correction: I made you something.”

The man proceeds to hand you a new phone, the insignia on it implying it was made, or at least modified, by his hand

You’d been complaining mentioning that you needed one that actually works

You smile and thank him eagerly

“It’s fine if you don’t have anything, I wasn’t really expecting-”

“Au contraire, Don, I made you something too!”

He looks baffled for about 20 seconds as you hand him a small gift bag containing red velvet macarons, lavender tea bags, a small, smooth rose quartz, a miniature turtle plushie

“Well, me and Mikey made the macarons together. Gotta give credit where credit is due.”

He barely registers your comment, too absolutely enamored by your consideration of him

Donnie doesn’t know where his mind is at, but it definitely isn’t in this solar system, perhaps not even the surrounding stellar systems

Bottom line, bro’s ecstatic

The huge grin on his face and brightness in his eyes effectively gets his point across

Not only did he give a heartfelt gift, he received one?

Okay, maybe this Valentine’s Day had something to it

Watching rom-coms solely to trash on them is a mandatory tradition

Every other Valentine’s Day he’s spent by his lonesome has mostly consisted of hours of mercilessly ragging on romantic comedies

Yep, definitely just to criticize them

No sadness and/or yearning involved

But now, with your company?

He’s still criticizing the ever-loving heck out of those movies

If you genuinely enjoy rom-coms, be prepared for this little pessimist to rain on your parade, grumbling questions of the logic and flow of the film

However, if you, too, find them stupid, you’ve found yourself the perfect, cynical viewing buddy

“You can tell just from the cinematography of that one guy catching her that he’s the secondary love interest.”

“I swear on Galileo’s heliocentric model itself- how many love interests can one main character have?”

“I think that’s the challenge that was going on in the writer’s room - to see how many variations of a love triangle they could make.”

“The challenge in the writer’s room was that they had too many people slamming on keyboards, yet none of them wrote Shakespeare.”

“Was that an infinite monkey theorem allusion?”

“And a simultaneous dig on the foul writing - zing!”

Following the festivities of movie-binging and gift-giving, he turns to you with a rather uncharacteristic diffidence in his demeanor

Glance askance, slight perspiration on his forehead, fidgeting hands, stammering words

As you start to ask what’s wrong, Donnie quickly, almost unintelligibly so, asks if you want to dance

If you feel so inclined, you nod, take his hand, and offer a dance

If Sinatra is playing (Nancy or Frank or both), you know some slow dancing is going down

Bill Withers or Kitty Kallen, maybe even Dean Martin, something classic, whispering in the background, a hand or two on your hips, yours on his shoulders, chins tucked cozily on the crook of each other’s neck or crown of the head, just the two of you gently swaying together to the rhythm sounds perfect

Normally when he dances, it’s fast-paced boogie or groove (he didn’t get the name Bootyshaker9000 for nothing), but for today, for you, he’ll keep the dancing slow, smooth, sweet

Keeping you close and spending time with you has certainly made this his favorite Valentine’s Day thus far

The macarons you gave him also significantly improved his verdict

(Happy Valentine’s Day gang ‼️ HERE are some accompanying sketches with this!)

[vigilante-3073]

Love Story

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Reader gets Dean a very special birthday present.

TW: FLUFF, pre-established relationship, Dean's secret obsession with Taylor Swift, concerts, extravagant gestures.

Dean's 43th birthday had been celebrated in the bunker with friends and family. Everyone had either gone home or made their way into one of the empty rooms to spend the night after the many beers and shots that were shared.

The table was covered in scattered empty pizza boxes and pie tins. Dean moved around the room, stuffing the trash into a garbage bag.

"You know, you don't have clean up after your own party," Y/N said, making her way over to him.

"Someone's gotta," Dean said, "Might as well get it out of the way before morning," He shrugged, dropping another paper plate into the bag.

"Can you take a break? I have something for you," Y/N said, pulling a white envelope from the back pocket of her jeans.

"You didn't have to get me anything, sweetheart," Dean sighed, setting down the garage bag and stepping over to her.

"You deserve it," Y/N said, holding out the envelope.

Dean took it from her hands, carefully tearing the it open and peering inside. He reached into the envelope and pulled out two shimmering tickets.

He stared down at them, thumb tracing over the surface carefully as Y/N watched him. She shifted on her feet as she tried to gauge his reaction.

"Are these real?" He asked softly, green eyes meeting with her's.

"Yeah," Y/N replied with a nervous smile.

He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms quickly. Dean held her tightly as a wide smile spread across his face, "This is amazing," He laughed.

She wrapped her arms around him, "Are you happy?" Y/N asked.

He pulled away, "Happy? Are you kidding? We're going to the Eras Tour! I'm over the freakin' moon!" Dean said.

Y/N laughed, "I left your VIP package on your bed. Go check it out while I finish up here," She said, tilting her head towards the messy table.

"Baby, you are- you are awesome," Dean said, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to her's in a quick kiss.

"I love you so damn much, sweetheart. We're going to see Taylor Swift! Hell yeah!" Dean grinned, rushing off down the hallway.

...

Dean had been eagerly anticipating the concert since his birthday. The usual silence in the bunker had quickly been replaced by the nearly continuous sound of Taylor Swift's discography. He was determined to know all the words to every song before their concert.

Dean had even insisted on dressing up and making friendship bracelets to share with other concert-goers. His costume was relatively simple, a plain white shirt with the word 'karma' written across the chest in red sparkly letters. The color matched perfectly with Y/N's dress and boots.

Dean and Y/N packed their bags before they made the trip down to Nashville, blasting Taylor Swift's music and singing along the whole way.

They checked into their hotel room on the day of the concert. Feeling jittery and excited as they ate an early dinner of takeout burgers before starting to get ready. Dean had put on his shirt before laying down in bed to watch television while Y/N finished up her hair and makeup in the bathroom.

He flipped through the channels, looking over as Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. Her hair and makeup were done, skin sparkling under the dim motel lights. He tossed the remote aside, focusing solely on his beautiful girlfriend.

Dean whistled, "You look phenomenal, baby," He said, eyes running over her body. The bright red sparkly dress hugged her curves perfectly and the boots of the same color glittered with small gems.

"Thank you," She smiled, spinning in a circle to show off the outfit in its entirety.

"Gorgeous," He grinned, standing up from the bed and making his way over.

Dean unbuttoned his shirt, holding open the flannel to display his t-shirt.

Her smile widened, arms wrapping around him as she leaned into his body, "Karma is my boyfriend," She sighed happily.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her's in a slow and passionate kiss. Dean's hands found her hips, pulling her body closer before reluctantly breaking off the kiss.

"I love you so damn much," He said.

"I know," Y/N smiled.

...

The stadium was dark, the music was loud and the lights were flashing as people screamed out the words to every song. Everyone was dressed to the nines in bright colors and clever costumes, covered in glitter and gems that shimmered under the lights.

The smile hadn't left Dean's face since the first song and he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

He had traded enough friendship bracelets to have both of his forearms lined with colorful beads. Dean would keep a few for himself, but the rest were for his girl and maybe one for Cas.

His arm was wrapped securely around Y/N's waist as they belted out the lyrics to Love Story. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she looked up at him with a smile.

Dean leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away. His hand slipped into the front pocket of his jeans, grasping the velvet ring box. Dean pulled it out, flipping the lid open and sliding his arm from around her waist as he turned to face her. Dean got down on one knee between the rows of chairs, holding up the ring. People around him screamed, pulling out their phones to record the moment.

Y/N looked over, eyes widening before her hands flew to her mouth, "Will you marry me, baby?" He asked loudly. Her eyes glossed over with tears as she nodded hastily.

Dean stood up, allowing her to pull him into his arms as happy tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled away slightly, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Dean pulled away, smiling down at her before plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger. He pulled her into his arms again, holding her tightly as the song came to an end.

"I love you so much, baby," He said.

"I love you too," She replied, pulling him closer.

...

The women sitting in the row behind them had asked for Y/N's cellphone number and sent their videos of Dean's proposal to her. She was overjoyed to have videos to remember such an important moment and watched the recordings before they even made it out of the stadium.

It was strange watching everyone dissipate from the stadium, making the streets brighter with their costumes while leaving jewels and glitter everywhere they went.

Dean and Y/N held hands as they walked down the street towards their motel room after the concert had concluded. The night had been an absolute dream. It was definitely an experience that they would remember for the rest of their lives.

Dean couldn't think of a time when he had been happier.

No hunting. No danger.

Just him and his girlfriend.

Correction, him and his fiancée.

Y/N video called Sam as they walked down the sidewalk, the line rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey, how was it?" Sam asked, sitting up in his bed.

"Amazing, best concert of my entire life," Dean said.

"Yes! She was fantastic and just absolutely amazing. Best night ever! Taylor Swift is just-" "Iconic," Dean stated, "Yes, iconic," Y/N agreed.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked, "We got some other news, Sammy," Dean said, smiling down at his fiancée.

"Is your news about how much you spent on concert merchandise? Because I don't want to know if it is," Sam said.

"We're engaged!" Y/N said, holding up her left hand for him to see.

"Are you serious? Is this real?" Sam asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"It's real. We're gettin' hitched," Dean said proudly.

"Congratulations, guys. This is amazing! Wait, when did you do it? Did you propose during the concert?" Sam asked.

"During the song Love Story like an awesome fiancé," Dean grinned.

"Some women behind us recorded it and sent me their videos. I'll show you when we get home," Y/N said.

"Alright, have a good night you guys. Get home safe and congratulations again," Sam said.

"Thank you, Sam," Y/N said.

"Have a good night, Sammy," Dean called.

Y/N ended the call, tucking her cellphone into her pocket. She squeezed Dean's hand and he looked over at her to find her staring up at him with a wide smile.

"What?" He asked, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

"Nothing, just that I only bought this dress so you could take it off," Y/N said casually.

Dean's eyebrows rose, "You flirting with me while referencing Taylor Swift is probably the hottest thing I've ever heard," Dean stated.

"Good," She grinned.

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 2)

Summary: Dean steals his father's car to give Y/N a ride home. The next day Y/N tags along to the dunes for sand surfing. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 3,771 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), mentions of physical abuse by a parent, past injury (bruising/scars), mentions of death and alcoholism, John is an asshole in this one, underage drinking, angst, language, slow burn, mutual pining, a hint of jealousy, a bit of fluff 

A/N: Sand surfing looks really fun. Didn’t think I’d get this finished before the new year. Happy holidays! 

_____ 

Dean grabbed your hand every time the headlights of a car came into view and pulled you off more to the side of the road. Placing himself between you so the car would have to go through him to hit you. The last time he did it you held onto his hand and he didn't let go. Until you came up to a driveway that led to a small ranch style house sitting amongst the evergreens. 

You spotted a cherry-condition, black muscle car sitting in the driveway, "No way! Is this your car?" 

"Uh- yeah," he smiled, "-I mean, no. It's my dad's but yeah that's what we're taking." He stumbled out his words as if he was nervous. 

You trailed your finger up the hood of the car, "Sixty-seven?" 

"You know your cars." He smirked. 

"My dad used to drag me to every car show he could when I was younger. On those days he did get off work." You said, admiring the freshly waxed black paint. "And as a result, I developed a thing for pre-seventies muscle." 

"Baby's the only thing my father has ever loved." Dean said and you frowned, "Aside from my mother. She passed away when Sammy was born."

"Baby?"

"It's what he calls the car." 

You nodded. "Who's Sammy?" 

"My little brother," he explained with an edge of protectiveness, "He's sixteen, too." He bit the split in his lip until it bled and kicked the front tire with a glare. "He's probably passed out by now," and somehow you knew he was talking about his father again, "But you better wait out here." He said, pushing you off to the side of the house so you blended with the shadows of the trees lining it. "Y/N, if you hear anything... Do not come inside." 

Then he turned around and headed for the door, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut. The way he spoke about his father, loving four wheels and engine more than his sons. Dean looked pained at the thought and his eyes greener when they glided over his father's Impala. 

Then it hit you, his warning. His father wasn't a good man. 

You left the shadowed tree line and peered through one of Baby’s windows. Fast food bags littered the front bench seat and a half a bottle of liquor lay on the floor. Your skin started to crawl at the thought of Dean's father coming home half-pissed and taking his day out on his sons. No doubt Dean only stuck around for his little brother. You wondered if Sam had endured the same type of injuries or if Dean always stood between them. Somehow you already knew the answer. 

The screen door shut with an audible creak and Dean reappeared on the porch, "Y/N?" He whisper shouted as he scanned the area you were supposed to wait. "Y/N." 

"Over here," you matched his tone. 

"Got 'em." He jingled the keys for you to see. "Let's push her out onto the street before we start her though." He opened the driver's door, "Here, you steer, I'll push." 

"You're not gonna get in trouble, are you?" You hesitated, you didn't think you could bear to see more bruises on him, or worse. 

He gave you a cocky smile, "I'm not gonna get caught." 

You slid in behind the wheel and shifted into neutral, taking a moment to appreciate Baby's beauty despite the mess of trash in the front seat. Meanwhile Dean ran around to the bumper and started pushing the car down the driveway. You braked when you got to the edge of the street, throwing open the door and letting Dean take over as you slid over to the passenger side. 

The car grinded to a stop as he pulled up in front of your house. It was a beautiful car but the whole ride felt like a tin can rolling over bumps in the road and the muffler rattled against the undercarriage the entire time. His father didn’t seem like the type to put his time or money into anything that couldn’t give back to him. Which apparently included keeping up maintenance on Baby. 

"For someone who's supposed to love this car," you flicked a used ketchup packet onto the floor and wiped your sticky fingers on your jeans, "He's shit at taking care of it." 

"Imagine if he didn't love her." Dean's eyes were lost on the dashboard, deep in some solitary thought. "He didn't deserve her and he doesn't deserve this car." For a moment you thought he must've been talking about his mother. You wondered if the abuse started before or after her passing. You didn't ask. "Are you busy tomorrow?" 

"Um."

"It's fine if you didn't mean it. About being my friend. But I was gonna go sand surfing and I thought that might be something you'd like to do. Something friends do." He shrugged. "I-I'm not trying to be creepy. Just friends." 

"I don't think you're creepy," you shook your head and met his sad smile, "I'd love to go, sand surfing? What is that?" 

He laughed, "It's like snowboarding but down a sand dune. It's easy, I'll teach you. Fall's the best time for it because the sand won't burn you." 

"That sounds fun." 

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said and then added, "My friend's driving. There'll be others there too, but they're not like your brother's friends." 

"I don't like my brother's friends." 

"These are good people," he smiled, the bruised part of his face hidden in the shadows of the car and you almost forgot about it. He had a nice smile, he didn't show too many teeth or too much gums. "I'll give you my number, in case you decide to cancel." 

You laughed silently but let him enter his phone number into your cell. Then you texted him so he'd have yours, too. 

"Thanks for the ride, Dean." You reached over and gave him a quick side hug. He didn't even have a chance to react but stared at the dash again and nodded when you pulled away. "Text me when you get home or I'll worry." 

"You don't have to worry about me, Y/N, I'm not a child." He said cordially. 

He'd obviously picked up on you putting the pieces of his home life together, his injuries, his father, how much he was risking by stealing Baby tonight. Dean was tall and built enough to protect himself, but nobody should stand alone and clearly his father was still bigger and stronger. 

"People worry about you in every stage of life, Dean. At least they should. I will." He looked over at you and matched your frown. 

"But you only just met me." 

His words echoed in your ears well after you showered and crawled into bed. Dean brought about so many feelings in you that you didn't know which to follow. You felt butterflies, and mutual affection like you'd known each other longer than you did, and an untethered desire to protect him, which was absurd because although he was skinny, he could toss you over his shoulder and spin you around if he wanted to. His bruises and scars made you feel helpless, but his smile made you happy because you could tell he felt lighter, too. 

You checked your phone and found a message from him. 

Dean: Mission impossible accomplished. See you tomorrow. 

Y/N: Thanks for texting. Goodnight, Dean. 

Dean: Night, Y/N. 

You'd be lying if you said you weren't developing a crush. You sighed and rolled over in bed. What could you do, nothing. He'd get into a lot more trouble than you. 

Sleep did not come easy after that and you woke up before you thought you'd even fallen asleep. You groaned and rolled over in bed when you heard your phone buzz. 

Dean: Good morning, Y/N. 

Y/N: Geez, you wake up early. What time is it? 

Dean: You're literally looking at your phone. 

Y/N: Omg! It's 6am, what is wrong with you?! 

Dean: You know the saying, early bird... 

Y/N: The sun isn't even awake yet, Dean. 

Dean: You're grumpy in the morning. 

Dean: Just wanted to let you know we'll pick you up around noon. 

Dean: Y/N? You still wanna come, right? 

Y/N: Yeah! Sorry, I'm tired. 

Dean: Awesome. Just one question before you pass out on me. Benny's bringing a grill, so we're making hotdogs for lunch. You're not a vegetarian are you? 

Y/N: Yeah...

Y/N: I'm joking. No, I'm not. 

Dean: Good, our friendship might've ended right there. 

Dean: Just kidding. Go back to sleep. 

You smiled at your phone a little too long before you locked it and went back to sleep for a few hours. 

"Hey, sweetie. You're awake early." Your mother said when you walked into the kitchen around ten. It was early compared to your typical Sunday morning. "Have fun last night?" 

You nodded, not wanting to get into the events of your brother or his friends from the bonfire. Your mom seemed to accept the answer and you assumed your brother made it home at some point without her noticing the hour. 

You got along with your parents well enough. You never really got into any trouble and you weren’t sure they even knew how to ground you if you did. Besides, your dad wasn’t around much lately, it seemed his new promotion kept him at the office longer than necessary. Which was where he was now. On a Sunday, at ten A.M. 

You didn't know what you wanted to do when you grew up, but you knew you wanted to have balance in your life. Something you thought your dad didn't understand. You couldn't remember the last time he brought you to a car show, you couldn't remember the last time you'd asked him to bring you either. 

"Your dad said he'd be home for dinner and your brother probably won't be up until mid-afternoon. What time did you two get in last night?" She asked, sipping on her coffee. 

You didn't have a curfew because you never had the need for one and your parents oddly trusted you. You didn't do crazy shit to make them worry about you but sometimes you wanted to, if only just for the attention. So you knew she was just curious when she asked. 

"I dunno," you shrugged, not wanting to get into why you didn't know and that you didn't come home with your brother. "I'm going out with some friends for lunch." 

"That sounds fun," you weren't sure if she was even listening anymore or just saying that. 

Your family had gotten better at not actually listening to each other lately. But you ignored that fact yourself and grabbed a bowl of cereal for breakfast. 

At eleven-thirty, you threw on a pair of high-rise jeans and an oversized t-shirt that you knotted at the waist. You also pulled on a flannel shirt in case it got chilly which was the way the weather was turning lately. Then you texted Dean. 

Y/N: Text when you get here, I'll come out and meet you. 

You wanted to avoid an awkward interaction with your mother. Especially since your brother was awake now and slamming the kitchen cupboards. He wouldn't really care but he was nosey and would start something if he saw how much older Dean was. And you doubted a few hours would've helped much with the bruising on his face. That wouldn't be fair to make Dean explain how he'd got them to complete strangers. Especially since you were pretty sure you knew how he'd gotten them. 

Dean: We're here. 

You shouted a 'Bye' as you ran out of the house, hearing your brother ask your mom where you were headed before the door slammed shut behind you. You shoved your phone into your back pocket and ran down the driveway to where a red Jeep waited. Dean stood outside, leaning against the door. 

He smiled when he saw you run up, "Hey." 

"Hi." You said, noticing his face falling, "What's wrong?" 

"I feel like we're sneaking around," he glanced back at your house as if he expected someone to come running out after you. "Feels wrong." 

"I just didn't want you to have to deal with the inevitable questions about, you know," you pointed to the left side of his face. "But if you want I can introduce you before we go... Or you could come over Friday for family dinner and give that a little more time to heal." 

He stared at you for half a second then shoved his hands in his pockets, "Family dinner sounds nice." 

"Great, I'll set it up tonight!" You smiled brightly and touched his arm, "Feel better?" 

He swallowed and nodded and you heard someone shout impatiently from inside the Jeep. Dean opened the backdoor for you and climbed in after you. You sat in the middle next to a guy with black hair and blue eyes who looked about the same age as Dean. 

"Hey, I'm Cas." The guy greeted you as you settled in. 

As soon as the door was closed the Jeep pulled out onto the road with a bounce from a pothole the tire hit. 

A small brunette in the middle front seat turned around and waved, "I'm Ruby, Sam's girlfriend," she pointed to a lanky guy with long brown hair next to her who offered you a smile. 

They looked about the same age as you, at least you knew Sam was. You noticed right away Sam didn't have any bruises or obvious scars. You felt a bit proud of Dean for that and also a little sorry that he didn't have someone like himself to have his back. 

"That's Benny," Dean said, pointing to the guy driving. "Benny say ‘Hi’."

"Hi." He glanced in the rearview mirror. 

"He's quiet until you get to know him." Dean explained. 

Benny, by far, looked the oldest of the bunch. Maybe it was because he hadn't shaved in a couple of days or maybe it was because he was built like a linebacker. But either way he didn't seem to like you. It was just a vibe you got in the split second your eyes connected. It practically radiated off him and you wondered if you were the only one picking up on it. 

"So, Y/N, how come I never see you at school?" Ruby asked, spinning around in her seat to face you completely and bumping into Benny who growled. Maybe it wasn't just you. "You're not home schooled are you?" 

"No, I go to one near my dad's work." You explained quickly, not really wanting to talk about school. 

"Where does your dad work?" Sam asked this time. 

“At Sandover Bridge and Iron. He’s the Director of Sales and Marketing.” You bounced your eyebrows. Really all that means is he’s barely around anymore. 

"That's cool," he said, shifting his eyes to Dean for a second. 

"Oh," Ruby’s brown eyes widened for a second and you knew what she was thinking. 

"Yeah."

"Am I missing something?" Dean asked, glancing between the two of you. 

"It’s a private school." You explained and it seemed to dawn on him. "What are you smirking at?" 

"You have to wear a uniform, don't you?" He smiled so wide the split in his lip threatened to pull again. 

"If you must know, yes, and it is the bane of my existence." You rolled your eyes dramatically to make your point. 

"So, like a plaid skirt with those long socks?" 

"Careful, Dean. We're friends, remember?" You whispered to him and he opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut and turned to stare out the window. 

Ruby pouted, resting her chin on the back of the seat, "That's too bad. You could've sat with us at lunch and I would've shown you around. Dean says you're new." 

"Yeah," you sighed. That would've been nice to know someone in school. You had begged your parents to let you go to a public school this time, but they insisted. "Too bad." 

Dean had gotten really quiet and you nudged him with your elbow. He turned to smile and swallow thickly before turning a cold-shoulder and staring out the window again. You had only been teasing, but you didn't want him getting any ideas that would only result in him getting in trouble. 

"How do you guys know Dean?" You asked, directing the question at Cas since Benny didn't seem to be much of a talker. 

"We grew up together. Well, me and Dean did." Cas explained, "Benny just kind of showed up one day and we couldn't get rid of him." Benny growled and Cas winked in the rearview mirror. "He really is a teddy bear once you get to know him." 

Once you got to the beach Benny didn't park in the parking lot, instead he drove out onto the beach and down the shore for a long time until you were surrounded by only dunes of sand. It would've taken forever to walk there. He parked at the top of the dunes and everyone filtered out of the Jeep. The guys grabbed the boards from the trunk and Benny got to setting up his grill. You guessed he wasn't really into sand surfing. 

Dean said he was going to teach how to surf, but he was already halfway down the dune with Cas when you looked. And Sam and Ruby were flirting as they carried their boards over to join them and you didn't feel like third wheeling it today, so you hung back with Benny. 

"Need a hand?" Your voice was softer than you'd like it to be but you found him intimidating, even if he wasn't nearly as tall as Dean or Sam who was a moose at sixteen and probably still growing.

"Thought you came for that," he pointed at the dune where the others had run off to and you saw a couple extra boards stuck in the sand at the top. But you still didn't know how to surf, never even been snowboarding. And those surfboards looked a lot more like snowboards. You'd hurt yourself for sure without knowing how to turn or stop. "I hope you know what you're doing with him." 

Your eyes snapped back to Benny's and you squinted, "Excuse me." 

He raised his hands and his eyebrows, "His home life is... undesirable. I know you know what I mean. Last thing he needs is your parents on top of his own." 

You didn't think your parents would bat an eye at Dean. Mainly because they were wrapped up in their own lives and didn’t pay you much attention. But if they did notice, you wondered if they would dislike Dean enough to turn what you have with him into something wrong and indecent. You'd like to think they wouldn't because it wasn't. But it's a parent's job to be protective of their child.

"We're just friends." 

"Not the way he looks at you." Benny cocked his head and started setting up the foldable stand for the grill. "He's not thinking when he's around you. And don't get me wrong, I like seeing him happy, he's been there for me more times than I can count, but- Do you have any idea what his father would've done if he knew Dean took that car out last night. If that's the way he looks after spilling paint in the garage..." You didn't know what to say and opened your mouth like a fish out of water before he continued. "Dean's never done anything like that before. I'm just asking you to be careful with him. He has two years left and then he and Sam can get the hell out of there." 

"Why two years?" That's all you could manage to ask. 

"Dean's tried to get custody of Sam since he turned eighteen but the lawyers always tell him the same thing. He's too young himself, with no steady income and no decent living quarters. Going through courts takes time and money and Sam would likely age out before that time." He explained as you fiddled with the knot in your t-shirt. 

"How'd you know about the car?" 

"I live next door, I helped him push it back up the driveway so his father wouldn't wake up and hear the engine." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I mean, I kind of knew but I guess I believed him when he said it would be fine." You watched your shoes and tried to still your bottom lip. "Just so you know, I'm not trying to cause him any more pain. We just kind of connected last night and I like him. I'm not gonna do anything that'll get him in trouble though. I promise." 

"Kid, I'm not worried about you doing the dumb shit. I'm worried about him." He scratched his slight beard. "It's not fair to ask you to think for the both of you." 

"It's not fair to ask me to not be his friend either." 

"I couldn't ask that of you." 

You kind of missed quiet Benny and the afternoon was starting to feel a lot like last night with your brother's friends. You wiped a tear threatening to fall down your cheek when you were sure Benny wasn't looking; everyone else taking a second run down the dune after climbing back up. You stood around and kicked at the sand until you could feel grains in your shoe. 

"Hey, cher, can you grab me the hotdogs from the cooler?" Benny asked and nodded towards the cooler next to the Jeep. 

You didn't bother digging around and just brought him the whole cooler. He split open the pack of hotdogs and started grilling. Then pulled a can of beer from the cooler and opened it. He handed it to you and grabbed his own. You wondered if you actually had to drink it, but he clearly saw that you were upset and it was a peace offering of sorts. So you took a sip. 

The fifth sip wasn't so bad and the seventh went down even easier. But it still tasted gross and you still didn't see the point. Maybe just a little warmth in your cheeks. 

Sam and Ruby were the first to run back over when Benny rang the dinner bell. Followed by Cas and Dean. Dean eyed the beer can in your hand and you took another sip before you grabbed a hotdog and walked away.

_________________________

Part 3

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers

[girls-alias]

Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester P6

Title: Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester Part 6

Words: 1,590

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: SPOILERS S1E12

Part 5

I made it to the motel and smiled knowing I'd be seeing Dean again. I held my apple in my mouth as I grabbed my bag from the car, I winced from the pain but cracked my neck and continued.

I took a bite of my apple. I walked over to the motel door and knocked politely. The door opened, showing Sam who smiled at me. I followed him inside, Dean was watching TV and hadn't looked over. I walked to mine and Dean's bed and put my bag down. I hurried to the couch and leaned over the back, kissing Dean's cheek. He got a bit of a shock so I assumed he hadn't noticed me coming in.

"Hey, cutie," He greeted turning to smile at me. His eyes lit up once he saw me. "Hey, you're wearing makeup," He added making me giggle. "Well, let's see the outfit then," He insisted making me laugh. I finally feel normal for once! I stood up straight and playfully started posing and even took a bite of my apple as a pose. Dean whistled at me making me blush. He looked over his shoulder to look at Sam in the kitchen before gesturing for me to come closer. I confusingly went close so he could whisper in my ear, his hot breath fanned my neck teasingly. "You look so hot, Y/N," He whispered making me blush. I couldn't believe he called me hot!!!

The way he said my name, Oh my God, I could sit here forever and listen to him whisper my name into my ear. My heart was pounding like crazy! I giggled and turned away knowing he was looking at my butt. I walked over to my bag and grabbed the card. I walked into the kitchen and handed Sam the card. He looked at me confused but I just smiled in response. I threw the last of my apple in the trash and grabbed a glass which I filled with water. I walked over to the couch, Dean was just bringing a beer to his lips but I quickly took it off of him. Instead, I handed him the water before turning the TV off so I could have his full attention.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean groaned but I smugly sat down facing him on the couch with my legs crossed and took a sip of his beer. He glared at me but I just winked. He sighed and took a sip of water. He gestured for his beer back but I just took another drink. He chuckled lightly.

"No beer for you, it's bad," I informed making him roll his eyes. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly. He grinned brightly at me.

"Oh, I told Sam about the dating thing," He whispered. I smiled at him.

"Okay," I shrugged kissing his cheek again. He continued grinning widely.

"You're dying to kiss me, I can tell." He whispered making me giggle. I just shrugged making him laugh. Sam walked over with a smile

"Thanks for the card, Y/N. We're happy to have you," Sam chuckled making me smile, Dean just looked confused. "I think we'll wait until tomorrow to leave so I'll bring back some food if you want anything?" He asked brightly.

"Cheeseburger," Dean excitedly exclaimed. I considered it. Greasy food could affect his heart but I suppose he deserves a treat.

"I'll have the same, thanks," I added making Dean smile.

"That's my girl," Dean commented making Sam and I laugh. Sam said some goodbyes before heading to the door, I threw him the car keys which he caught with ease. I was now alone with Dean… I bit my lip at an idea and stopped myself from overthinking it by just doing it. I swung my leg over Dean's so I was straddling him making him grin. His hands rested on my butt while mine was on his shoulders. "I like the jacket," He commented grabbing the jacket and opening it slowly pulling it down and off my body looking deeply into my eyes. He smirked once it hit the floor. I bit my lip which his eyes instantly caught. "I like the shirt," He added mischievously before grabbing the fabric suggestively. I giggled but shook my head, he smiled and put his hands on my butt again squeezing slightly. "Worth a try," He chuckled.

"Right, we need rules," I informed and Dean nodded to show he was listening. "No PDA in front of Sam, you tell me the second you're in too much pain, no telling me off for my clothes and no judging," I demanded and Dean nodded, agreeing to my terms.

"Then I have some rules too: You have to wear my shirt to bed every night, you have to change in front of me, no stopping me from drinking beer and we have to share a shower at least once, oh and I want to start cuddling in bed. I've never cuddled before and I want to try it," I couldn't help but giggle at his rules and cuteness.

"Deal!" I nodded with a smile. Dean smirked back at me.

"You are perfect," He sighed looking deeply into my eyes.

"Don't forget the rule about being in too much pain," I added making Dean look at me confused but he instantly understood once I connected our lips. The kiss was soft, gentle, and caring but also meaningful. Dean squeezed my butt tighter bringing me closer to him, deepening the kiss. It turned into making out. Our hands slightly roamed each other's bodies and Dean had me extremely turned on. I internally groaned. I slowly pulled away and smiled at him. He smiled brightly back at me.

"You just cured me," He joked making me laugh. "Seriously, I think this heart attack was the best thing to ever happen to me, I wouldn't have you otherwise." He thoughtfully explained playing with the ends of my hair which was still tied back in a ponytail. I sweetly kiss him again before pulling away. Dean is smiling like crazy. "If Sam can fix me, would you stay?" Dean asked staring deeply into my eyes, my smile faulted. Dean noticed and frowned. "It's okay, I get it." He sadly spoke. The only reason I questioned it was my job. It could put Dean in danger but I could live a normal life with him. A real life.

"Look, Dean. I'd have to consider it, my job isn't normal. I'm always on the move and it's dangerous. I don't want to put you in harm's way," I explained but Dean scoffed.

"I know the feeling but we can leave that, I have just one thing to do but then we can go and escape," He argued in a pleading tone.

"Look I'm a bounty hunter of sorts and no matter where I go they'll come after me and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt because of me," I replied playing with the hair on the back of his neck. He looked at me with confusion and sorrow-filled eyes.

"Christo," Dean simply said. Confusion struck me.

"How did you know my last name?" I asked.

"I don't," He confessed.

"Okay, then why did you just say 'God' in Latin?" I asked making Dean smile. He quickly kissed me with passion and desire. I was shocked but didn't deny him his kiss. He pulled away smiling widely.

"How do you kill a vampire?" He asked grinning making my eyes and smile widen. He's a hunter?! He looks the part I suppose.

"Decapitation," I replied making Dean giddy. He quickly hugged me and I hugged him back. I don't know why I'm so excited about this, maybe it's because I know he understands.

"How do you kill a Wendigo?" I asked quickly, looking at him with a wide smile.

"Fire," Dean quickly replied. We kissed once again which turned into making out to savour this moment. I sighed with relief when we pulled apart and he smiled at me. I just couldn't help but smile back. "So, getting struck by lightning?" He questioned making me laugh.

"Witch," I groaned making him chuckle.

"Witches are the worst," Dean commented, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you just saying that because one hurt me?" I questioned. The smile on Dean's face told me that it was true. "So, electrocution and heart attack?" I questioned making him chuckle.

"My story isn't as good. Sam and I saved some kids and I was fighting the bastard, stepped in the water, and we were both electrocuted," He shrugged but I grinned.

"You saved people in your story, I think you win," I smiled making him chuckle as he thought about it. He seemed to take a minute to just smile at me.

"So, does that mean you'll stay?" He asked hopefully. I smiled and kissed him to give him my answer. He slightly squeezed my thighs showing he was glad.

"There's still time for you to hate me," I joked as I pulled away and stood up.

"I highly doubt that," He chuckled making me laugh. I put my jacket back on and walked into the kitchen with the beer I had stolen from Dean, I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm just kind of loitering and being happy. That quickly changed when I heard Dean coughing and spluttering. I ran through instantly wanting to help. God, I hope he makes it!

Part 7

Masterlist

Working On

Taglist

[apocalypseornaw]

Don't Blame Me (Pt 1/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean's fear of flying explained, a demon he can't kill and so many questions as to what will happen next

Dean Winchester was a man that didn't fear very much so that would lead someone to question exactly where the fear of flying had come from. Was it some irrational fear? The concept alone or something so much more.

Very few people could mention the true root of Dean's fear of flying without him throwing a punch. The subject was and would always be a very sore one. The subject had left a gaping hole in his heart that he never would want to fill.

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

Bobby's house was quiet, him and Sam had gone to bed hours before but Dean couldn't sleep. The anniversary of that crash was looming. The one that instilled a fear in him, that changed his life forever and ripped his heart out of his chest.

He sat at the small table in Bobby's kitchen peeling the label off of a lukewarm bottle of beer. The cord of the amulet he wore around his neck seemed to get heavier as the day drew near as if the ring that accompanied the amulet managed to have grown in weight.

He could close his eyes and see your smile, hear your laughter. Why hadn't he gone with you? Or offered to drive you? He knew the logical didn't hold up, him being on that plane wouldn't have changed your fate but he wouldn't have been facing yet another year without you.

That phone call still haunted him to this day. Dean stepped out of the bathroom, running a towel over his wet head. His phone blaring had summoned him out of the bathroom and into the outer area of the motel room him and Sam were crashing in for the night. Sam had gone after food and he was waiting for you to call him and let him know that your plane had landed in Dublin.

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion when Bobby's number flashed across the screen instead. He sat down on the edge of the bed before answering it "Hey Bobby. What's going on?" There hadn't been many times he'd heard Bobby get emotional, let alone tears being in the older man's voice but it sent a chill directly down his spine even before Bobby spoke. "Dean you haven't seen the news have you?"

He shook his head then spoke into the phone "No, why?" Bobby took a shaky breath before asking "Is Sam there with you son? You don't need to be alone" Dean's heart felt like it was weighed down in that moment, refusing to believe what his brain had already pieced together "Bobby what is it?" "Dean just hold on now..." "GOD DAMMIT BOBBY JUST TELL ME!"

---------

Sam stopped at the door of the motel room juggling bags in his hands. He'd forgotten to take his cell and Dean was more than likely starving by this point.

He slid the keycard in and walked through the door. The moment he did the bags of food hit the floor. The room was trashed, the TV shattered and Dean was on his knees in the wreckage.

Sam ran to his brother's side, going down to his knees next to him "Dean?" He noticed the way Dean flinched as if just hearing his own name was painful "There was some sort of malfunction" the words seemed as if speaking them ripped something out of Dean but Sam still couldn't make sense of it.

When he remained silent Dean slowly raised his head and the tears in his eyes froze Sam in place "She's gone Sammy. Y/N is gone"

There was no body to be returned, no funeral to be had. Very few of your personal belongings had survived the crash and it'd taken Bobby and Dean lining up with the other families to go through what had gotten recovered to find those.

The ring around Dean's neck had been easy to spot. It had a simple promise Dean had always made to you engraved inside it "Even in death" he'd originally made the joke when he gave you the ring, citing that there was no till death due us part with the two of you because even in death you would be each other's.

Along with the ring had been your favorite bracelet that Dean had given to Bobby, the man had pratically raised you so he deserved something to hold onto as well. It was silver and had the different moon cycles around it. You'd found it at some flea market and had absolutely loved it.

----------

It seemed insane that a person could be narrowed down to a few objects and memories. A friend, a lover, a daughter. Gone in the blink of an eye and the ones that left being expected to move on as if they never existed.

A pop of thunder outside made Dean flinch. Of course it would be a thunderstorm, you had always loved them. What would it be like if you'd never gotten on that flight? That question would haunt him the rest of his life and beyond.

@lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

[sammysmaddy]

Normal (Winchesters x Reader) - Part Seven

Summary: Growing up as the baby of the Winchester family led you to be constantly guarded. Soon enough, you start to learn what's normal between families and what's not.

Characters: Dean x Sister!Reader, mentions of John x Daughter!Reader + Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: incest, sistercest, angst, fluff, kissing, oral (fem. receiving), talk of manipulation 

W/C: 3.3k+

A/N: Ouch! My heart hurts.

Normal Masterlist

Masterlist

"Where's Dad?" Was the first thing Dean heard when he woke up alone in his bed. 

Dean squinted his eyes, adjusting to the sunlight that flooded the bedroom, and continued lying there. Dean did his best to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead of him. 

"He left a note: Be back in a few days. Keep your sister safe and keep your brothers out of trouble," Y/N read aloud, sighing and tossing the piece of paper into the trash. 

Sam nodded his head, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat at the table with Y/N. 

"What time did you get home? I can see your under-eye bags," Sam teased and Y/N rolled her eyes, giving him an unappreciative smile. 

"Probably around four. We got food," Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not feeling the need to go into further detail. "You were snoring so loud I had to cover my ears." She poked back and it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "And your back was so sweaty you soaked my shirt."

"I think you mean my shirt and also, that bed is only meant for two people," Sam huffed out and she gave him a small smile. "Dude, you slept in so late," Sam commented when he looked over to see Dean sitting against the headboard. 

Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes, his head pounding from the surplus of sleep that he wasn't used to. When he looked at Y/N, she gave him a soft smile. 

"What time is it anyway?" Dean asked in a mumble. 

Dean went to move the comforter off of his legs but stopped himself when he realized that his body had other ideas. Dean shifted uncomfortably, now fully aware that he had awoken half-hard in his boxers- normally something he could satiate, but both Sam and Y/N were already up and at it. 

When Dean's eyes looked back up to see if anyone had noticed, hoping that nobody would, Y/N's eyes shied away and a blush arose on her face. Of course, she'd be the one to observe Dean's situation. 

"It's almost noon," Y/N answered in a soft voice. "Why don't you get us lunch, Sam? I'm hungry." Y/N turned her head to look at Sam, who in return nodded, and then turned back to Dean. 

Y/N gave Dean a wide smile and if Dean were more awake, he would have been able to discern the deviousness behind it.

The second that Sam made his way out of the motel, Dean stood up and began to make his way to the restroom. He hoped to situate himself with a cold shower.

"Where are you going?" Dean heard from behind him. 

"To the bathroom," Dean knew he was being blunt but he was too sleepy to have this conversation with Y/N right then and there.

Before Dean could make it any further, Y/N grabbed his arm. 

Dean sighed to himself, feeling guilty for the way his cock throbbed at her touch. But Dean was determined to set things straight and that meant not giving in to his desires. 

"What?" Dean snapped as he turned around. 

Dean watched as Y/N's eyes grew wide, surely she was shocked by his reaction. Dean took a deep breath, immediately regretting his tone. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Dean frowned, trying his best to un-tense his body.

"It's okay, Dean," Y/N gave him a small smile.

Dean watched Y/N's eyes as they traveled down. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he pressed his hand into his evergrowing boner, trying to conceal its presence.

"Why are you covering yourself?" Y/N asked, looking back up at Dean. 

Dean battled himself internally. Though Y/N's question solidified his belief that she was just too naive to understand, his body wanted nothing more than to pick her up and fuck her until the next morning.

"Uh, I don't know," Dean wasn't sure what to say as his cock throbbed in his boxers. "I just didn't want you or Sammy to see, I guess."

Dean's body tensed harder than ever before as Y/N's eyes flickered up and down. It felt sick, but there was a part of Dean that was insanely turned on by her innocent nature.

"Dean, I can help," Y/N suggested quietly. 

Dean's eyes screwed shut tightly as his body continued to react to his little sister. As he attempted to summon up the courage to reject Y/N's advances, her hand grabbed his wrist, removing his hold on his pulsing member.

"Y/N, I don't think-" Dean began to say but felt his throat constrict as Y/N placed her small hand on his growing cock.

Dean's neck craned as Y/N held him in her hand. He knew that he was near the point of no return and Y/N touching him like that would only lessen his chances of doing the right thing. 

"Why are you so afraid?" Y/N frowned as she searched Dean's eyes. 

Dean stayed silent as he examined Y/N's beauty, trying his best to gain the boldness to stop her from holding him in her hand.

"I don't want to overstep but you haven't stopped me, De. I've wanted you for so long and I just- you only seem to love me enough when you're drunk." Y/N said in a small voice.

It became blatantly obvious to Dean that his little sister wasn't just some sex-crazed girl who did things for her own pleasure. 

Sexual favors were her sense of self-worth, it was how she showed those around her how much she loved them. Maybe she really believed that in order for someone to love her, she had to give them things. 

"Love you enough?" Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowing as Y/N looked up at him with soft eyes and an innocent gaze. 

It hurt Dean that Y/N could even suggest that he only loved her when he was drunk- that was far from the truth. 

"Sweetheart, I love you more than anything," Dean replied honestly, using his large fingers to lift her chin up and swipe away one of her tears. 

Dean's heart was breaking every second that passed and the last thing he wanted was for Y/N to be hurting. 

"People you love, they're not always going to want to love you in that way." Dean tried to explain, hoping that she would understand. 

More tears streamed down Y/N's face and Dean felt his heart race faster- Fuck.

"You don't want me?" Y/N asked him directly, her eyes becoming glossier and redder. 

Dean hadn't thought through his plan well enough on how to tell her. He didn't know how to explain that everything she was feeling physically was natural and a beautiful thing- or whatever they said in the movies. 

Dean also didn't know how to explain that it wasn't acceptable to feel those things for family, he wasn't even sure Y/N would understand if he did tell her. Especially if Dean didn't stop her before she went any further with him.

Then there came the thought of upsetting her further. Y/N always had a special place in Dean's heart, and it was killing him to see her so sad. 

If she knew that what John had taught her was wrong, immoral even, Dean couldn't even begin to picture how she would feel. There was no one in the world that Y/N trusted more than John and her brothers, and Dean couldn't bear to think about how much it would break her heart if she ever learned that John was manipulating her to his benefit. 

She'd be crushed and Dean didn't want to manage the repercussions that would follow- she'd never trust anyone again, maybe not even Sam. 

She had no sense of people skills and an extremely vague understanding of right and wrong. John had always taught her that family comes first. 

Nobody could ever blame her but Dean wasn't sure that Y/N would ever be able to recover from something as strange as this.

Dean had to make a decision- to tell her or not to tell her, and unfortunately, he had to make that decision within the next few seconds. 

Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was Y/N, and Dean couldn't deny how happy she had been the past few months. Dean also couldn't deny how well his body reacted to her, how much he had thought about her in the past few years, and how much he was aching to kiss her swollen lips. 

The truth was, nobody would get hurt if Y/N never knew how bad it really was.

"I do. I really do, Y/N," Dean admitted, in a quiet voice because he knew there was no going back. 

Dean couldn't tell if he was feeling more guilty or relieved that he could finally let go, and he watched as Y/N stared into his eyes like she was searching for something. 

"I'm just trying to help because I love you," Y/N said, raising her hand and tracing her fingertips over Dean's lower stomach. 

Dean was the most aroused he had ever been in his life, but he wanted to do it right. That started with taking care of Y/N.

A flip had switched in Dean's mind. 

Yes, Dean wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life, and he wondered what her mouth would feel like, but he also wondered how often Sam and John would return favors. 

By the looks of it, Y/N definitely seemed to be a giver- she hadn't come onto Dean in a way where she expected something for herself. Maybe, she didn't prefer it. Maybe, she had yet to experience it for herself. 

If Dean was going to do this, he was going to make Y/N feel like she had wanted him to feel. He wanted to spoil Y/N like the princess she was and he wasn't going to settle for anything less, she needed to be loved too.

"Relax, sweetheart," Dean told her, gently grabbing her wrist and placing it at her side. 

Concern flooded her eyes and she looked damn near ready to cry again. Before she could, Dean let go of her wrist and held her flushed cheek in his palm, rubbing his thumb over her plump bottom lip. 

He took a second to admire her face, watching and feeling how she leaned into his hand as if she gained some sort of comfort, and spent an extra few seconds looking at her rosy lips. 

Dean felt like he was in high school again when he looked at her. He felt the butterflies in his stomach. It felt like Dean had been crushing on the hottest girl in the school for an eternity and that this was finally his opportunity to kiss her properly. 

All of Dean's negative thoughts about everything seemed to wash away. Y/N wanted him and he wanted her, nothing could take this away from them. 

Y/N sat there looking pretty as Dean's face lowered onto hers, his lips stopping half an inch away from hers. He felt her breath against his skin. 

When Y/N tilted her head upwards, Dean expected her to be rough and needy, maybe she'd bite or her teeth would accidentally scrape against his- but exactly the opposite happened. 

Y/N was gentle and her lips were softer than Dean imagined and when she began to slowly kiss him, Dean felt no hesitation to kiss her back. It was like she was in sync with what Dean was thinking, maybe she wanted to take it slow and savor it too. 

Dean found himself becoming the needy one as their lips perfectly overlapped each other and he began to pick up the pace. 

Dean felt Y/N relax into him as she brought her hands up and placed them softly on Dean's hips, rubbing small circles with her index fingers. He loved how perfect and natural it felt to kiss her, how she instantly knew just what he needed, and how good it felt after dreaming about it for so long. 

•••

Dean was more nervous than he had ever been with a girl. He felt the need to have sex like he was still a virgin. Dean didn't know if he had ever really loved any girl that he had been with, and if he did, it didn't last long and it sure as hell wasn't as strong as the love he felt for Y/N.

Dean was also very aware that this wasn't something that he could ever come back from. Especially if John ever found out. 

Dean could never leave the family business and he definitely couldn't leave Sam or Y/N, but he knew that if it continued after this, he wouldn't hesitate to call Y/N next time he ended up drunk and alone. 

Dean justified this in his mind. He loved Y/N, more than any girl in the world, all he wanted was to care for her- and she was willing, even if she didn't know it wasn't socially acceptable. 

Dean tried his best not to think about that. The selfish part of him wanted to get a piece of the pie before he spoiled the game, and he wanted to pleasure her so much that she would never want to stop no matter what. 

Y/N laid across the bed, her ass barely on the mattress, and Dean began to kneel down on the floor. He remembered how much he had wanted to eat her out at that very first party, and licked his lips before wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her to the very edge of the bed. 

Dean pushed Y/N's legs back so that her knees hit the comforter, allowing him full access to her already dripping heat. 

It didn't take long for Dean to delve into her heat, eager to suck everything he could out of her. Dean felt his heart race, knowing how wrong it was but as soon as he tasted her, he knew he wanted to taste her every day for the rest of his life. 

The combination of Y/N's hands running through his hair and the way it felt to dig his fingernails into her soft skin was nearly lethal. Dean took turns alternating between suckling and licking strips up her slit, making sure to pay close attention to her bundle of nerves. 

Y/N's moans got louder and louder with each different motion of Dean's eager tongue, tugging on his hair and pulling him impossibly closer to her core. 

By the time Y/N's legs were shaking underneath Dean's grip, he had let go of his hold on her and brought a finger up to her dripping hole. 

Dean was surprised by how tightly his finger fit inside of Y/N, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as her moans got louder. He loved the way she sounded under his influence and felt his erection growing more painful as he continued to be untouched, but that was the least of his worries. 

Dean just wanted to make Y/N feel good. He needed her to cum for him. 

Curling his finger upward, working in and out of her tight hole, Y/N arched her back with each swift movement. When Dean felt confident enough, Dean began working in another one of his fingers, loving the way that she gasped aloud and her breaths got heavier. 

"Fuck, De, don't stop," Y/N practically begged and Dean began to make his movements faster, waiting patiently for her climax to hit. 

When Y/N went silent for a few seconds and rolled her eyes to the back of her head, Dean began to suck on her sweet spot again. Dean knew she finally had her release when he tasted her sweetness on his tongue. 

Dean rose from his knees, seeing the tired smile displayed across her cheeks, then hovered over her and began kissing her again. 

It was slower this time, less eager, and Dean could feel as she tried to catch her breath. Y/N smiled into the kiss, causing Dean to smile, and he lifted his face just an inch above hers. 

"What about you, Dean?" Y/N asked, and Dean looked down, remembering that his situation wasn't exactly fixed. "I can help, you know."

"Sammy will be back any minute," Dean sighed, not even knowing how long Sam had been gone at this point. "Maybe next time we'll do something that involves both of us," Dean smirked and she giggled. 

"Like sixty-nining?" Y/N questioned and Dean nodded his head, liking the sound of that, but that wasn't exactly his idea. 

"That sounds good too, and we can take our time, but I want to feel you wrapped around me," Dean kissed her but suddenly stopped as Y/N stopped smiling and stared up at him with wide eyes. 

"I've never done that before," Y/N seemed embarrassed and looked towards the headboard. 

Dean lifted himself a little higher, his arms fully extended now, and gave her a puzzled look. 

"What?" Dean asked, confused and more aware that he was hovering above his actual sister. "I thought- with Dad and... so you and Dad never?"

"No," Y/N seemed scared to admit it, almost as if she were ashamed to confess that she was still a virgin. "Daddy says I'm not ready yet." 

"Oh my God," Dean couldn't even put his guilt and shame into words as he felt his erection rapidly fade away. 

"What's wrong?" Y/N sat up as Dean pulled his jeans on. She seemed to be confused by Dean's sudden need to rush.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. We should have never done this," Dean replied hastily, needing to be as far away as possible from everyone at the moment. 

"What? Why?" Y/N questioned and Dean wanted so badly to give her the answer, but he felt so ashamed of himself that he didn't think he could do it the proper way. 

"I shouldn't have touched you. I shouldn't have let you touch me. What we just did can never happen again." Dean avoided eye contact with her, fuming within his own head. 

"Dean, you can tell me what's on your mind," Y/N came up to him, sweetly touching his arm. 

Dean shoved her arm away, grimacing when he noticed she was still naked. It his own sister that was naked in front of him and he had just gone down on her.

"I can't do this right now. I can't be around you, move out of my way," Dean snapped at her, not thinking about how instantly Y/N's tears would fall from her face. 

Dean couldn't think about it, because he was the problem. 

Dean pulled his shirt on, and grabbed his shoes, working at a fast pace to put both of them on. 

"We shouldn't have done that."

"Why, Dean? Because it's wrong?" Y/N sniffled through her tears, speaking softly like she didn't want to scare Dean away. 

"Yes, Y/N. What we just did was wrong, how do you not know that?!" Dean raised his voice at her as he finally had the guts to look into her eyes. 

Dean knew he was being erratic and that he was hurting her, but this was better for the both of them. 

"What you're doing with Dad, what you're doing with Sammy, what you just did with me- it's all wrong. No family should ever do things like that together."

"I don't understand," Y/N said quietly, looking down as she reached for Sam's shirt and pulled it over her head. 

"Maybe you never will, but we will never do anything like that ever again," Dean grabbed his wallet and began making his way toward the motel door. 

"Where are you going?" Y/N asked, still crying softly to herself. 

Dean didn't turn around or respond before he stormed out of the room, heading as far away as possible.

•••

Next Part

•••

Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger @deans-baby-momma @deans-number-one-fan

[sastielsfandom]

Sam leaned on the Impala, opening a piece of gum and popping it into his mouth, squinting at the sun. Castiel was watching him carefully, "What is that?"

"Gum," Sam said, taking another stick out, "want a piece?"

"It's not food, is it?" Castiel questioned, taking the wrapped stick of gum, smelling it and frowning. 

"Not quite." Sam said, laughing through his nose, "You just chew it."

Castiel opened it, tilting his head, continuing his inspection, "And then what?"

"And then you spit it out when you're done with it." Sam said, and waited for Castiel to try it, but the angel was more focused on the wrapper than the gum.

"Here," Sam said, taking it out of the wrapper, tucking that bit into Castiel's trench coat, "just try it."

Castiel slowly brought it to their mouth, and mimicked Sam by throwing it into their mouth. Just as quickly as it went it, it went out, landing on the ground, "That was disgusting."

Sam tried to refrain from laughing, instead cleared his throat, "Um, most people chew it before they get to that part, and I guess I should've specified you throw it away in the trash. Not the floor."

"Do you like your gum?" Castiel asked, watching Sam chew. 

Sam raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "Yeah, I guess-" Castiel pulled Sam down into a kiss, swiping the gum from his mouth, and chewed it just as Sam did. 

"I prefer the gum like this," Castiel said, nodding, looking at the gum that had landed on the floor, "not like that."

Sam's face was beyond red, he rubbed the back of his neck, and turned the other way, "Um, yeah, uh, if you chewed it enough, it would've done the same thing."

Castiel frowned at Sam's reaction, "Do you want it back?"

"You keep it, Cas." Sam reassured, and relieved as Dean came out of the gas station, even though he was waving around beef jerky, again. 

---------

Sam had just returned from the convenience store, two bags full of everyone's weird lists, Dean had taken both bags out of Sam's hands, digging into them, "Sam, you just got gum,  have you been chewing your toenails again?"

"No, is that something you do often, Dean?" Sam shot back, as Dean tossed it to him, Sam tossed it to Castiel. 

Castiel smiled, holding it to their chest, "Thank you."

"Why'd you get Cas gum?" Dean asked, rummaging through the bag that was most likely Sam's, but he was intrigued, "That's the benefit of having an angel around, no extra expenses."

"It came from my money, not yours, so shut up." Sam said, taking the bag back and shoving Dean's towards him. Bobby already got his stuff, because Sam knew Dean. And so did Bobby. 

"Bobby!" Dean called in a whiny tone. 

Bobby wanted to ignore him, but that tone told him to just answer, "What?"

"Sam told me to shut up!" Bobby rolled his eyes, "So why are you still yapping?" He got no answer, and was quite satisfied with that. 

Dean turned to face a smug Sam, and shook his head, and pointed at him, "Wow, just turning them all against me, Sammy."

"Uh-huh, clearly that's what I'm doing." Sam said.

"It is," Dean said, nodding, and Sam could see his brain turning, "it's your masterplan."

"Yeah, you got me," Sam shrugged, "I'm sure when Dad said to watch out for me this is what he meant. Do we wait until I give him a lollipop and then bring out the shotgun or is this crime enough?"

"That's not funny," Dean said, which made Sam laugh, "It's a little funny."

"What's a lollipop?" Castiel asked, and before Sam could answer Dean jumped in, "Do not give Castiel lollipops."

"I won't." Sam said, unconvincingly, but Dean took his bag, and did the universal, I'm watching you sign, which Sam ignored as he waited for him to walk away fully. 

Once he disappeared around the corner, Sam pulled out a bag that may or may have not nothing but lollipops... Just as he handed it to Castiel, Dean popped back out, "A big bag, really?"

Sam tried looking empathetic but his mischief shone right through, "So is it my gun or yours?"

"Sam!" Dean shouted, and the two were off running, Sam laughing loudly as he ran outside. 

Bobby walked in, hearing the chaos existing the house, "Do I want to know?" He asked Castiel. 

Castiel had no idea if Bobby did, but decided to answer anyway, "Sam gave me gum and lollipops, Dean disapproves, and now Sam is asking if Dean should kill him. I can't tell if it's a yes or no."

Bobby looked outside and back at the angel and the bag he was currently holding, "They'll tire themselves out. What flavors you got?" Castiel lifted up the bag and Bobby grabbed the treats before he went outside to watch the show. Might as well get some entertainment out of it.