#dean: yeah uh. men. sam: What the fuck dean: listen to me you little shit. men. sam: I fucking knew it dean: sam: dean: sam: I also like m-

[dean-smiths-suspenders]

JENNA I JUST FINISHED THE FIC

@bloodydeanwinchester you will be paying for my therapy bills

[eisforeidolon]

Fan: So we know the Carver Edlund books are in the show, I mean, obviously in the episode they were like skimming one of the books. I was curious, do you think the brothers actually read every single one to kind of find out what their brother was thinking, or did they make a pact not to read them?

Jared: Sam read them, because Sam reads and reads and reads and reads. Well, he's dead now, but [pause for reaction] - too soon? When he was alive, maybe in heaven he just [gestures] has a bunch of books, it's all Carver Edlund.

Jensen: Sam probably was like, "Dean, you gotta read this" and Dean was like, "I don't read books, books read me!" That's probably how that went. He's like, "Why would I read it, I'm living it!"

Jared: [laughs] I don't want a recap!

Jensen: [laughs] Yeah, I don't know that Dean would have read one. Although I think I've got one of the prop books -

Jared: I think I do, too. I don't know which one I have -

Jensen: Yeah, we were full kleptomaniacs on the set of Supernatural. And I can admit that now, because I have not been served legal papers and it's been years.

Jared: What's your favorite thing that you have?

Jensen: My favorite theft? [Jared: Yeah?] Well, I mean, Baby's not really a theft because that one we actually got permission. That would have been awkward. "Guys, guys! Where are they going?" It's just this [points to banner of the Impala driving away], just tail lights, "Okay, I guess we're done with the year."

Jared: We got a little gift - so outside of our own kleptos? We got little gift packages from ? and the props department. And so there were some fun things.

Jensen: I will say this is not something that I got in our little, like - listen we're just getting rid of this stuff anyway because we're scraping all the sets and WB did give a list of 'these are the things that we actually want to obtain and retain'. And there were a lot of just kind of left over things that probably didn't seem relevant or special but were kind of special to us. Or it was like, you know, a broken angel blade something like that - oh, this was broken doing this stunt, it means something to me but it may not mean something to the studio, but. I will say one of the things that I just - that found its way into my pocket, I don't know how [Jared: Accident!] was years before we ended. It was when I knew that they were going to destroy Bobby Singer's house. [Jared taps his arm and points excitedly] On his desk, on Bobby's desk was this little antique brass calendar, that was like one of those things where you roll to turn the date and the day? And I don't know why, but on set I just always was playing with that while we were setting up our scenes or - and I just thought it was the coolest little vintage calendar thing. Yeah, it went missing, I don't know where it went.

Jared: All I know is that explains why Jensen always calls, "Dude, can you believe it's 1996?" "What?"

Jensen: "It's Tuesday, December 1996!" "Bro, stop messing with Bobby's calendar."

Jared: That's really funny, man! I stole two things - uh two things went missing from Bobby Singer's place - on the last day. One was a flask, Bobby Singer's flask, and one was the little owl figurine that was probably about this big [gestures], really heavy, it's a paperweight or something? And they went missing and then Jim was like [does gruff impression] "Aw, man, I was hopin' to get that owl, I don't know what happened to it." And I was like, "shit" and so I went to my trailer and got it and was like, "Here, Jim." But I still have the flask somewhere. From post-show, I think one of the little army men from the car [Jensen: Yeah], some of the Legos, uh, Samulet. Yeah. I know there were several of each - like hotel room cards, and then I got sent, like, three of the burner phones? I was like what the fuck am I gonna do with -

Jensen: Yeah, what am I gonna do with this?

Jared: From like, circa 2005.

Jensen: I just, yeah, it was like - when they were like, "Okay this is our last day in Bobby Singer's set, we're tearing it down tomorrow" Jared and I were like [Jared mimes shoving things in various pockets] full cat burglar. Like, snuck in to the stage - we went full Sam & Dean.

Jared: Crew guys would walk by, and be like, "Hey, what's going on?" and we're like, [looks obviously guilty] "Nothing! Nothing, man, how you doin'? It's good, it's good."

Jensen: The boys are acting really cagey today, I don't know what's going on -

Jared: Like stuff rolled up in our shirts -

Jensen: I'd have taken the couch if I could have fit it in my shirt.

[mummybear]

Help You Out

Words: 3483

Warnings: Massage, Swearing, Smut, Major Dirty Talk (Really Guys What’s New?), Girl On Top, Topping From Bottom, Oral (Female Receiving), Biting, Slightly Possessive Dean, Multiple Orgasms. Think that’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mentions of Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s back hurts after so many nights in different motels, so when he and Y/N are forced to share a bed she offers him a hand to get rid of the ache, will he agree to her help when he’s been so distant with her lately?

A/N: @spndeanbingo Square filled - Motel Room. And a big thank you as always to my amazing beta @negans-lucille-tblr

Dean grumbles something under his breath, shifting awkwardly in his seat as he drives, mere minutes away from the motel. You couldn’t wait to get inside the room and take a shower, you were still feeling a little grimy from the previous motel, but luckily Sam actually seemed fairly impressed with the ones at this motel, and Sam Winchester was very rarely wrong when it came to showers.

“This bed better not be as bad as the last one, my back still hurts, damn lumps, I miss my-” Before he can finish his grumbling complaints, you cut him off already knowing what he’s going to say, safe to say this was far from the first time you’d heard it even in the past ten minutes.

“You miss your memory foam mattress back at the bunker, yes I know, and yes I also know that it remembers you.” You sigh loudly, before continuing with a lighter tone to your voice. “Look Dean, we’re here now, we can sleep for a bit then hit the road in the morning, okay?” You try and reason, doing your best to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Dean wasn’t much fun to be around when he was cranky and tired, nor when he was hungry for that matter. They were two of Dean’s biggest weaknesses. He kept insisting he was fine, but Sam and you had known better.

The two of you climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the main office, where a grumpy looking old man was thumbing through the paper.

“Good evening, could we get a double room please,” you ask as nicely as possible, the guy looks up and barely grunts, so you try a different tact, “two beds. One room.” You tell him, trying to keep the edge out of your voice.

“Only one double bed, one room.” The man tells you barely above a mutter, “take it or leave it.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Dean mutters quietly, turning to walk away from the counter. You frown in confusion looking back at Dean, with the key already in hand as you shake your head at the elder Winchester’s behaviour.

“We’ll take it.” You tell the man begrudgingly, not missing the slight hint of panic that flashes across Dean’s face when he looks back at you. You watch Dean with confusion as he turns and leaves you behind. You can’t put your finger on what the hell is wrong with him, and the last few days it has only gotten worse, but you follow him out of the office regardless.

-

You both grab your duffle bags from the Impala’s trunk, an uncomfortable silence surrounding the two of you, which was something you weren’t used to when it came to Dean, no matter how grumpy he was the two of you never really seemed to be affected, but the last few days you noticed there had been something that changed between the two of you.

When you stepped inside the room it already looked at least a little better than the last one you’d had to stay in. From what you can see the bathroom is cleaner and the bed looks a lot more comfortable and sanitary, though you were sure not all things would be coming up roses.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa or something,” Dean offers, tossing his bag onto the small sofa, which was most definitely not going to work for a Winchester, not in a million years.

“Don’t be silly, Dean, we can share. We’re both adults. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the sofa, because you couldn’t fit on that even if someone cut your legs off at the knees,” you half laugh, making your way into the bathroom with your own bag. Dean follows you to the doorway and leans against it. “Dean, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay here if you can’t even sleep. And I guarantee you, there is no way that you’re getting any sleep on that couch,” you reason, as you adjust the temperature of the shower and pull the curtain closed.

Dean scratches at the back of his neck and shifts awkwardly on the spot, “I uh, move a lot in my sleep, especially when I’m tired. Wouldn’t wanna hurt you or somethin’. I can just go sleep in the car.”

“Don’t make me throw you on that bed, we both know I can do it,” you warn him playfully, a little confused when you see a blush on his cheeks. You pull off your flannel and drop it to the floor.

“Now go get your butt in bed, please, we can share. But I draw the limit at you watching me get undressed.” You see him shift on the spot again. “I promise, if you get too aggressive at any point then I can sleep on the couch,” you assure him, finally earning yourself a slight nod.

“O-Okay, if you’re sure,” Dean stutters his half answer before stumbling out of the door and closing it behind him.

“So adorable sometimes,” you laugh to yourself, now fully undressed you climb into the shower, letting the hot water take you away for a little while.

-

By the time you come out from your shower Dean has collapsed on one side of the bed, fast asleep on his stomach, his jeans still clinging to his ankle as he groans something into the pillow his face is squished into.

You can’t help but admire the way he looks, even with his face pressed into the pillow he’s still one of the most handsome men you’d ever met. Those strong legs and the curve of his firm ass in those boxers, or the strong lines of muscle which are more visible in his back from this position, then of course, there’s dimples at the base of his spine that you’d never noticed before. His arms are under the pillow beneath his head, but you can see the defined muscles in them. You’d always had a thing for Dean’s arms, even though you’d tried not to let yourself look for too long, for fear he or Sam would catch you.

You shake yourself from your slight daze and throw your duffle down alongside Dean’s. Carefully tugging his jeans from his ankle and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, before pulling the covers over his body.

You freeze as he shifts in bed, worried that you’ve woken him up, but instead he curls slightly into the covers and onto his side, one arm beneath his pillow as he gets comfortable again. You breathe properly again when he settles, and you climb into your own side, pulling the covers up.

Dean’s body warmth and his light snores eventually lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

-

You practically jump awake from your peaceful sleep, it takes you a minute to remember where you are, then you hear that noise again, Dean’s angrily grumbling something beside you as he tosses and turns in bed.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, voice still heavy and thick with sleep as you turn to look in his direction.

“Jus’ my fuckin’ back, sweetheart, sorry, go back to sleep,” Dean growls in sleepy irritation, throwing himself onto his back again.

You sigh and sit up, turning on the bedside lamp, “turn over, lay on your stomach. I can give you a massage. I’ve had to do it before, Dean, when I was on a hunt with a friend of mine who fucked up her shoulder.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep. Besides, massages never work on me,” Dean argues, only annoying you that much more.

“Dean, stop arguing, just let me try and help for fuck's sake.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grunts shifting onto his front.

You feel him stiffen beneath you as you straddle his ass, “just shut up grumpy ass. Listen to me, close your eyes and take a deep breath, relax,” you tell him as quietly as you can, trying to keep your voice soft, your ass hovering above his as you lean forwards and firmly grip his shoulders. He’s so tense and as you move your thumbs over his knotted muscles, you can tell you might be here a little while. Dean lets out a groan as you press and rotate your thumbs at the base of his neck, slowly making your way down his spine, digging into the knotted muscles as you move.

Well fuck, that may have been the sexiest noise that you’d ever heard. You try and ignore the way his groan shoots arousal straight between your legs, but you have to bite your own lip when you watch the way his hands fist at the sheets beneath him.

“How’s that feel?” you ask him, just above a whisper as your thumbs press into the muscles around his shoulder blades. Dean turns his head to the side and moans as you press against a particularly stubborn knot. You have to fight with yourself not to roll your hips against his ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve really got somethin’- Oh God,” he groans deeply and you swear your heart is pounding when he continues to talk in that same deep voice. “Your hands are like fuckin’ magic, I’m gonna have to listen to you more often.” He moans again as you move lower, sliding down so you're sitting on the backs of his thighs, your thumbs pressing into the bottom of his spine and the top of that firm ass of his.

You hate how shaky your voice is when you reply and how uncomfortable your panties have become. “Yeah, I guess you will. Glad you’re finally seeing sense.”

“You could charge for this, damn,” Dean rasps, as you lift yourself off of his thighs, terrified he’ll be able to feel how damp your panties are against his skin. You gently pull down the top of his boxers, digging your thumbs into the firm muscles feeling him relax under you. Then your hands move down further, gently pressing your thumbs under the curve of his ass and down his strong thighs.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Y/N,” he all but growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to moan his name, practically biting into your tongue.

You take a deep breath and tap Dean’s shoulder gently before you lose your nerve, feeling the lump pressing at the base of your throat.

“You wanna turn over? So that I can do the front,” you explain just above a whisper, feeling him stiffen beneath you.

“That might not be such a good idea, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice taking on a deeper and rougher tone than before.

“Please Dean, thought we agreed you should listen to me more often,” you joke shakily; even you’re not sure if this is a good idea anymore. You think that you might know the reason he doesn’t want to turn over, but the thought alone only makes you want him to do it more.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rasps, as you sit up a little higher, allowing him to turn onto his back beneath you. As soon as they’re able to, his big green eyes lock on yours, looking a little panicked, and you quickly notice that his face is flushed.

You gasp as you lower yourself into his lap, feeling the impressive bulge that’s currently pressing between your thighs. You do your best to ignore it as you press your thumbs into the front of his shoulders and down his collarbone and over his pecks, before looking into his eyes again. Safe to say that was a big mistake.

His big hands grip your thighs when you involuntarily roll your hips against him, feeling his thickness press against you clit. Your nails sink into his pecs and he moans your name, “feel better, Dean?” you ask barely above a whisper as his hands drag roughly up your thighs and grip your ass tightly, finally pulling a whimper from your parted lips.

“Oh yeah, so much better, sweetheart,” Dean all but growls, nails sinking into your ass as his grip tightens.

You slump forward, letting your hands rest either side of his head as you look into one another’s eyes. “Is this why you’ve been weird around me lately? Because your back hurts? Or does it have more to do with the raging hard on between your legs?” you question him, unable to stop the smirk from curling at your lips when his cheeks blush bright red.

“I uh… I guess the last one,” he tells you quietly, swallowing hard and squeezing your ass harder. You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look down at him, “look, don’t laugh, but I’ve kinda had this… thing for you lately,” he tells you quietly, a look on his face that tells you he’s worried about what you might say.

“Show me then,” you tell him, biting into your grin.

You squeal in surprise when he practically throws you onto your back and is hovering over you seconds later, a smirk stretching over his plump lips.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” Dean all but growls, the nervous side of him has seemingly disappeared as he kisses his way down your neck. You whimper as he sucks a mark into the skin, and drags his teeth over your collarbone, continuing to leave his marks across your body.

Dean settles between your legs and tugs them over his shoulders. You sit up, unable to stop yourself from watching. His eyes remain on yours as his thick tongue moves through your slick, the heat in his gaze makes your stomach roll, and you can’t help but moan his name desperately when his tongue circles around your clit slowly.

Your fingers thread through his hair and your breath catches in your throat when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your wet heat. It’s been ages since you’ve been with a guy, and even longer since you’d been with someone who knew what he was doing - safe to say Dean was a guy who knew what he was doing. With that perfect mouth of his, he's alternating between kitten licks and nibbling and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Dean, get up here, please, I need you inside me,” you whimper as he starts curling his fingers inside you, stroking against that spot which makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and Dean’s groan vibrates through your pussy, causing a shiver to edge its way up your spine.

He finally relents, easing his fingers from inside you and sucking them between his lips, throwing you a wink as he pulls them free with an audible pop.

“Want my cock that bad, do ya sweetheart?” Dean chuckles, kissing and sucking at your skin as he crawls back over your body.

“Yes I do, you dork. Now get up here and fuck me.”

You giggle when he practically pounces on you, his lips immediately finding yours in a frenzied kiss. Dean shifts between your legs and you hook them over his hips as the tip of his cock nudges at your dripping entrance. Your hands grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as he pulls away from your lips letting you both gasp for much needed breath.

Dean sits up on his knees, spreading them with his big hands and pulling you closer until your legs are pressed against his chest and your ass is resting on his thighs.

“Fuck, look at you sweetheart, so perfect, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.” Dean groans as he pushes forward slightly, and you feel your pussy stretch around the wide head of his perfectly thick cock.

You cup your tits, feeling your nails biting at your skin as Dean pushes forward a little further, until he’s fully seated inside you. Dean grips the tops of your thighs as he starts to move, slow and calculated, his grip tightens on you when you try to rock against him.

“Fuck, Dean, more please,” you whine loudly, feeling him hitting that spot repeatedly.

“Don’t worry baby girl, you’re gonna fuckin’ come all over my cock real soon,” he rasps, turning his head to nip at your calf as his thrusts speed up, one of his hands splaying over your stomach, and you swear you can feel his cock bulging under your skin. You look up at Dean in awe, feeling that familiar feeling rising fast, your pussy fluttering and your stomach tightening.

“I can feel my cock against my hand sweetheart, so fuckin’ deep inside your sweet little cunt. You gonna come for me? Wanna watch you bounce on that cock, you gonna do that for me, baby?” Dean rasps as his thumb starts to rub at your clit.

“Oh… oh God! Dean! Fuck anything you want… I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with a silent scream, feeling your entire body go rigid as you gasp for the breath you don’t even know if you need.

You’ve not even had time to come down from your orgasm when Dean rolls you both over, so you’re on top and he’s on his back, a cocky smirk on those perfect lips of his. You slump forward slightly with your hands on his chest, still panting hard.

“So sexy when you come for me,” Dean purrs as you start moving your hips over him, rocking back and forth.

“Love your big cock, Dean, fills me so good,” you whimper, already feeling another orgasm burning just out of sight.

Dean brings his legs up higher on the bed, so his legs are spread slightly behind you. Your nails bite at his skin when you start to rise and fall over him, feeling his thickness fill you and leave you repeatedly, quickly picking up speed. Dean cups one of your breasts and pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The slap of your skin against his mixes with your moans and whimpers and Dean’s grunts and groans.

“Gonna make me come, sweetheart, so fuckin’ close. Can’t wait to fuck you full baby girl, you’d like that wouldn’t you, huh? Wanna feel my come dripping from this tight little cunt? Wanna remember who made you scream like a little slut while we’re drivin’ home, don’t ya?” Dean all but growls, snapping his hips to meet yours with the end of every question. His fucking mouth and his perfect cock have you close to losing your damn mind.

“Yes Dean, please. I want it, wanna feel your cock for days. Give it to me, Dean. I need it, please, only a little slut for you,” you whimper feeling your arms shake as he pulls you flat against his chest.

His grip is unyielding as he grabs your ass tightly in those big hands of his, “gonna fuckin’ ruin you princess, ain’t nobody gonna fuck you like me.” He grunts possessively as his hips begin to slam up into you at an inhuman rate. You’re sure your heart is about to thud out of your chest, all you can hear is Dean and the blood that’s rushing through your ears.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you out of nowhere, squeezing tight around Dean’s throbbing cock. White light explodes behind your eyelids, but Dean doesn’t stop moving until you’re practically shaking on top of him, feeling his come trickling down between you.

“Fuck.” You gasp against his sweat slick chest, feeling his fingers running through your hair as he shushes you.

You’re surrounded by him in the best way, and you can feel your body beginning to calm down.

“One word for it,” he chuckles breathlessly, before finally opening his eyes and looking at you.“You okay?” he asks, voice still deep and thick with something so sexy you involuntarily shiver again as Dean rolls you both onto your sides.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you tell him honestly, watching the grin that spreads across his lips. “So, are you finally gonna quit acting weird around me?” you ask with a teasing smile.

“Probably not, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, in every way possible. Anyway, can’t be that bad if it got us here,” Dean grins, pressing a chaste kiss your lips.

“Well, I guess you got me there. You ever want another massage you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” Dean smirks pulling you against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now sleep, we’ve got an early start. I wanna see if we can make my memory foam remember you too.”

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[stoneantler]

This is my entry for @transnaturalweek day two: outfit/coming out. It’s about teenage transman Dean trying to support trans/nb/questioning their gender Sam!

Read on ao3 here!

Sam finches when Dean slams open the door.

"Woah, hey. You ok?"

They’re kneeling behind the bed, so Dean can only see their head and shoulders. Their shoulders are up, head down, hair hiding their face.

"Hey, Dean. I wasn't--I wasn't expecting you home. Dean, can you just, uh--"

"Dude what's going on? You got weed there or something? You better be ready to share."

"No, Dean. Can you just--" Sam waves a hand, "Get out for a minute."

Dean's stomach drops. "Sam, what's going on?"

"It's fine! Nothing's going on just, I need a minute ok? Just five minutes," their eyes are skittering around the room.

"Sam," Dean comes closer, to do what he's not sure, ignoring the way Sam finches when he gets close. When he gets around the edge of the bed, he sees what Sam's trying to hide. They’re wearing one of Dean's old dresses, a worn brown thing that Dean had gotten for a case to appease his dad and never worn again. Sam's got a denim jacket over it.

Dean kneels, touching Sam's knee. Sam's got their head tucked up on their shoulder, not looking at Dean.

"This it? This what you were trying to hide from me?" he plucks up the edge of the dress, rubbing it between his fingers.

Sam shrugs, still not looking at Dean.

"Sammy, I don't care. You can wear whatever you want ok? Just don't let dad see you."

"Ok, Dean," Sam answers and god, the kid sounds tiny, and <i>scared.</i>

 -----

"C'mer kid," Dean says, rocking back on his heels and opening up his arms.

Sam hesitates for a minute but eventually let's Dean fold them up in his arms.

"Ok, I'm gonna," Sam jerks their head towards the bathroom, "get changed and all that."

"You don't have to," Dean says. Sam swallows, nods, but gets up to change anyway.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean slaps a towel against Sam's leg. Sam looks up from his book, scowling at Dean.

"C'mon, we're getting clothes," Dean tells him.

It's been month since Dean walked in on Sam in his old dress. Sam hasn't touched any of his old clothes since, hasn't even talked about it, but Dean's been thinking, planning, trying to rustle up a little extra money. It hadn't been easy, nor particularly fun, to get the extra money to make this little shopping trip possible but Dean hopes it'll be worth it.

They go to the local goodwill. Sam's so stiff they look like they might crack if they clip their shoulder too hard on something so Dean chatters, telling jokes that make Sam groan and smile. 

Dean drags them over to the women's section. Sam doesn't touch anything, looking at the racks of clothes like they might bite, so Dean starts shuffling through the clothes, pulling things out that he thinks Sam might like.

"Here, what'd you think?" he holds up a purple shirt to Sam.

"It's fine, Dean," is Sam's vague answer.

Dean keeps looking, hoping for some kind of reaction but all Sam says is “sure,” “looks fine, Dean.”

Finally, looking squirrely, Sam blurts out, "Dean what are we doing here? You don't wear shit like this anymore."

"Yeah, no shit, but it's not for me." Sam frowns at that, then their face pinches.

"Dude, are we buying clothes for your girlfriend?"

"What? No! You think I'd waste my money getting clothes for some chick?"

"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Sam hisses.

Dean sighs. He so does not want to talk about this. He never came out to Sam, not really. Just told him one day, "Call me Dean, ok?" and Sam had said "Ok." It had been Sam who asked, weeks later, "Dean, are you… Are you a guy?" Dean had taken a moment then to swallow down panic but eventually he'd said, "Yeah, now shut up about it."

Now, in the goodwill, Dean peaks around quickly, checking that no one is close enough to listen in on their conversation. He pulls Sam down the aisle away from the grandmother browsing the sweaters a few feet away.

"Sammy, I dunno, I thought you might like something. Something that makes you feel good. Anything ok? I won't judge you. Just pick some stuff out. I'll get it for you."

Sam's eyes are huge, a little panicked maybe, and Dean wonders if he's fucked this up, read this situation wrong. If Sam's about to yell at him or worse, cry.

"Thank you, Dean," they say instead, and throw their skinny arms around Dean.

"Ok, alright, ok. Yeah, kid I get it. Now come on. Let's look at some clothes."

Sam goes back to grab that first purple shirt Dean pulled out and lays it reverently over their arm. Dean smiles to himself.

Sam picks out a handful of clothes to try on, way more than Dean will be able to afford, pulling out everything that looks even half interesting to them. It's when they turn to the fitting rooms that Sam starts to freak though.

"Here, can you just," they unload the clothes onto Dean. Dean's wearing his jacket, sweating bullets under three layers and leather, and the pile of clothes isn't helping.

"Sam, what the hell?"

"Can you… can you come in with me?" Sam asks painfully quiet. Yeah, ok, Dean gets that.

"Yeah sure kiddo. No problem." His stomach twists a little though. Realistically he knows no one is paying attention to them, but still the idea of walking into the changing room with a pile of women's clothes knowing everyone in the store would assure they're for <i>him</i> rather than Sam makes his skin crawl.

He goes in with Sam, sits on the bench, and remembers the first time he did this, grabbing clothes from the men's section and looking at himself in the mirror. He'd been alone then, nervous as hell. But the pleasure, the elation, of looking at himself in the mirror and seeing <i>himself</i> had been worth it, even if he'd had to throw up after, on the walk home, little bag of clothes in hand. 

He hopes this is easier for Sam.

"Close your eyes."

With his eyes closed Dean says "Yeah, not like I hadn't seen your chicken legs before."

Sam throws something at his chest. "Shut <i>up.</i>"

Dean grins, eyes still closed. Yeah, he's gonna do everything he can to make this easier for Sam. 

[winchester-fantasies]

Thank God for Sexual Frustration

Summary: Dean offers to help you out when you’re going through a dry spell. No friends with benefits, simply a one time deal. But will you both be able to stop once you start?

Word Count: 4398

Warnings: smut, fingering, dry humping, steaminess in the Impala, bit of dirty talk, fluff, tiniest bit of angst, swearing

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

You huffed as you tried, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable in the back seat of the Impala. You were on your phone, checking up on social media, scouring the national news for new cases, and even reading interesting, but pointless, articles on why red light isn’t used to illuminate streets. But nothing could distract you from the aching need between your thighs. 

You huffed again in frustration, throwing your phone onto the seat beside you, the device bouncing off the leather and dropping somewhere on the floorboards. You glanced out the window, watching as mile after mile of flat land and cornfields flew past. You and the boys were passing through Iowa, windmills and the occasional cow being your only companion.

You’d been in Wisconsin, hunting a pack of werewolves. It had been a successful one so you and the boys decided to go to a local bar to celebrate and cut loose a little before heading back to the bunker. Of course Sam and Dean had had no trouble finding women to take home; one flash of Dean’s pearly whites or peek of Sam’s dimples and any woman within a twenty mile radius was theirs. Or at least it seemed that way. 

You? Well, you weren’t exactly what most people would call gorgeous. Pretty, yes. But compared to the Winchesters? You weren’t anything special. 

There were plenty of men at the bar, but none that caught your eye and apparently none that took interest in you either as no one approached you, even just to make light, friendly conversation. So instead of finding a guy to take back to the motel, you’d just drunk a few beers, played a couple of games of pool with a group of cocky fuckboys, and left early to crash into the back of Baby while the boys lived it up. 

Needless to say, you were beyond horny and sexually frustrated. You needed a release and fast.

“You okay, sweetheart?” You jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice, and you turned to find him looking at you questioningly in the rear view mirror.

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly. “When’re we stopping?”

Dean glanced at his watch. “Not for another five, six hours.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes as you shifted your weight, grinding down lightly against the seat, desperate for some kind of friction.

“Why?” Dean asked. “You gotta pee or something?”

“No,” you growled. 

“Then what’s the matter? You’ve been grumpy since we left Wisconsin,” Dean said.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just keep driving. I’ll be fine.”

Dean gave you a look that said he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press the issue further, much to your relief. You turned to stare out the window once more, your interest piqued and your mind diverted from your predicament by the thunderheads building in the west, a low rumble of thunder and a quick flash of lightning streaking across the sky. But the next second you were reminded of your almost unbearable need as Dean drove over a bump in the road, jarring you in your seat and causing the seam of your jeans to catch deliciously on your clit. You clenched your thighs together, but you couldn’t help the quiet moan that left your lips. 

Dean apparently heard it, too, because his eyes were back on you when you glanced at the rear view mirror. “What was that?” he asked, suspicion lacing his words.

“Nothing,” you said offhandedly, hoping he’d drop the subject. Unfortunately he didn’t.

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asked. “Kinda sounded like a...moan. The guy you take home last night show you that good of a time?” he added brazenly with a cocky smirk, causing your cheeks to redden.

“For your information, there was no guy,” you stated, crossing your arms and quickly glancing at the still sleeping Sam in the passenger’s seat. You didn’t really want to have another audience member listening to your sexual woes.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Seriously?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, really,” you snapped. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“Just surprised is all,” Dean said defensively. “With a girl like you in a bar filled with half-drunk guys looking for a good time…?”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t have the privilege of being sex on legs,” you said sarcastically, indicating him and his brother.

Dean chuckled, his crow’s feet becoming more prominent. “Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” Dean said lightheartedly. He paused for a moment, his jaw clenching and his gaze focused hard on the road, deep in thought. When he finally glanced back at you, his eyes were steely and filled with something you couldn’t quite read.

“I could help you out,” he said nonchalantly.

“What?” you asked with a frown of confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dean sighed, his eyes returning to the road again as large drops of rain began to pelt the windshield. “Look, it’s pretty obvious you’re sexually frustrated,” Dean said. “I could help you with that…. If you want to of course,” Dean added.

You bit the inside of your cheek thoughtfully as you watched another flash of lightning light up the increasingly darkening sky. You had to admit the thought of having Dean between your thighs, or at the very least his fingers, was more than a little enticing. 

“And it doesn’t have to be any of this “friends with benefits” shit,” Dean said when you didn’t immediately answer. “Just a one time deal.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice level.

Dean’s gaze shot up to meet yours in the rear view mirror again, his eyes betraying his shock, almost as if he had expected you to say no. And if it had been any other day, you probably would have declined. But right now your pussy was aching for the touch of a man.

“O...okay,” Dean repeated, almost hesitantly. “Lie back and unbutton your jeans.”

Your eyes widened in shock and for a moment you thought you’d misheard him. “I’m sorry?”

“I said,” Dean said gruffly, his green eyes looking darker than normal. “Lie back. And unbutton your jeans.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks at his request and you licked your lips nervously as your eyes shot to Sam who was still passed out. Dean was joking right? 

Another glance in the rear view mirror told you he wasn’t. Not if the determined and lustful look in his eyes was any indication. “Dean…” you whispered imploringly. “Sam,” you hissed, jerking your head in his brother’s direction.

Dean smirked lewdly at you, and you couldn’t help the rush of arousal that washed over you. “Just trust me, sweetheart,” he said.

You swallowed hard and cast one more glance at Sam before doing as Dean told you. You laid back on the leather, the hum of the Impala loud in your ear from this position. Next you unbuttoned your jeans with trembling fingers. “Okay, now what?” you asked.

The back of Dean’s head was just visible over the front seat, and you watched as he turned, his tongue running over his bottom lip when he saw you sprawled out as he had requested. “Now you let me take care of you,” Dean said, his voice low and filled with desire.

You shuddered as you nodded slowly. Dean’s arm came over the top of the front seat and settled on your lower abdomen, his fingers brushing over your already heated skin as he sought to help you relax.

“You good?” he asked, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look back at you. 

“Y...yeah,” you breathed out.

“Just try to relax, okay?” Dean said. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” you said, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes.

Dean massaged your abdomen and thighs a bit longer before his fingers traveled up and settled at the top of your waistband. You tensed, but reminded yourself to breathe as his hand slid past your jeans and into your panties. 

You spread your thighs wider, one foot coming to rest on the floorboard as his hand moved lower, his rough and calloused fingers finding your swollen clit. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “You’re more than ready for me, aren’t you babygirl?” Dean asked, running his fingers through your wet folds. 

“Mhm,” you mewled, biting your lip, your eyes still tightly shut.

“Just remember to relax,” Dean said again.

You gasped lightly as his fingers found precedence on your clit once more, rubbing small, languid circles over the bundle of nerves. “That feel good?” he asked, his voice low and smooth like honey.

“Yeah,” you moaned quietly. “Feels so good.”

“Good,” he growled. After a few more strokes, he slowly trailed his fingers lower, gently inserting his middle digit into your soaked pussy. You whimpered at the feeling of finally having at least some part of a man inside you. You rocked your hips with his movements, the palm of his hand pressing into your clit with each movement. 

“Dean,” you moaned, your hand coming to rest on his wrist as he continued pumping his finger in and out of you. He glanced behind him, watching his hand undulate inside your pants before moving his eyes to your face, craning his neck to see the moment you came undone.

Blood was pumping in your ears, your breath was becoming shallow, and that familiar tightening in your lower abdomen was growing. You were close. So, so close. 

Sam suddenly sat up straight, looking around wildly. Dean jerked his hand from your jeans while you quickly rolled over, facing the back of the seat. You held your breath, praying Sam wouldn’t be able to tell that he’d just interrupted his older brother fingering his best friend in the back seat while Dean drove.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked, and you could’ve sworn his voice sounded a little strained.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, sniffing and shifting in his seat as he sat up straighter. “Just had a bad dream…. Where are we?”

“Just outside of Iowa,” Dean said, his voice sounding normal again.

There was a pause before Sam spoke again. “She finally fall asleep?” he asked quietly.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean commented. “I think so.”

“Mm, good,” Sam said. “She’s been having a rough time of it.”

“Yeah,” Dean said simply before silence pervaded the Impala once more.

**********

You were jerked awake by the sound of a door slamming. You shot up in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“Easy,” Dean said, a chuckle in his voice. 

You took a deep breath before leaning forward, resting your elbows on the top of the front seat and rubbed your eyes. “What’re we doing?” you yawned, looking over at the building a few yards away from where Dean had parked the Impala.

“Sam needed to take a piss. Said he was hungry,” Dean said. 

“Oh,” you said, watching a few people enter the convenience store. 

“You never did finish,” Dean said suddenly, his voice even and calm like he was just shooting the breeze.

“What?” you asked, turning your gaze away from the store and back to him.

His met yours, and you swallowed at the salacious gleam in their mossy depths. “You didn’t cum,” he said bluntly.

“Oh, I, uh,” you stuttered, feeling your cheeks redden. “I, uh, no. No, I didn’t,” you finally got out.

Dean searched your face for a moment before speaking again. “You could finish now.”

Your eyes widened and it was your turn to search his face, looking for any indication that he was joking. Your stomach clenched when you realized he was dead serious. “Wh...what about, Sam?” you asked, glancing towards the store just as a man exited.

“Sweetheart,” Dean said, his cocky tone drawing your eyes back to his smirking face. “I can have you cumming faster than you can say please.” 

You swallowed hard, feeling your body warm at the thought of him bringing you to orgasm. You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing the options. You could wait till you stopped for the night before heading to a bar and just hoping you’d get lucky. And those chances were pretty damn slim. You were still beyond sexually frustrated at having been interrupted right when you were on that glorious precipice of release, and you’d woken up just as horny as when you’d drifted off. Dean was offering you something you craved and desperately needed. 

“Okay,” you conceded for the second time that day.

Dean’s face broke out into a wide and cocky grin. “Get up here,” he said, his voice deep and demanding. You wasted no time in fulfilling his request, agilely climbing over the seat. Almost as soon as you were in the front seat Dean was reaching for you, drawing you to him and helping you straddle his thighs.

You tensed at the unexpected feeling of his erection pressing into your core. Dean must have seen your surprise because he chuckled, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Been so fucking hard since earlier,” he said, his admission turning you on even more. “God, you’re so fucking hot. All those moans and sighs. They’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Dean,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his.

He groaned and a shuddering gasp left both your mouths at the friction. You did it again, this time firmer and with purpose. Dean’s head fell back against the seat, his eyes falling shut as he opened his mouth in pleasure. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he breathed. “Don’t stop.”

You rolled your hips again, finding a steady pace. Dean’s hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you slid over him. You snaked your arms around his neck, playing with the soft hairs at the base of his skull. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, his erection pressing into your clit deliciously. Dean’s hands wound their way around your waist, his palms lying flat on the small of your back, helping to guide your movements and pull you down harder onto him. Wetness was beginning to pool in your panties in earnest, leaking out the front of your jeans and leaving a dark stain on Dean’s. 

Your body was on fire, sweat dotting your upper lip, a few rivulets running down Dean’s face. You moaned, leaning your head back to give him easier access as he kissed and sucked at your neck and shoulder. Dean shifted slightly, pushing up into you with such force you grunted. You could tell he was close, his breathing labored and thrusts sloppy.

“(Y/N),” Dean groaned quietly. You leaned down, pressing you lips forcefully onto his, his tongue finding yours a few moments later. It was all hands, teeth, and heavy breathing as you both chased after your releases. 

“Cum for me, Dean,” you murmured in his ear when you felt yourself right on the edge. He groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he thrust against you hard, both your paces turning feverish. 

And just like that, the coil snapped. You were writhing as you came, your muscles contracting uncontrollably, Dean’s name falling from your lips like a whispered prayer. 

Dean came seconds after, his face contorted in pleasure and his lips parted as he gasped out your name. He rolled his hips lazily against you once more before he stilled. 

You were both panting, your arms still wrapped around one another, your head resting on his broad shoulder, sweat starting to seep through your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t just cum the hardest you could ever remember. 

“That...that was amazing,” Dean said. You leaned back, smirking as you met his gaze. His hands traveled up your sides and he was about to say something else when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye, spying Sam coming out of the convenience store. 

“Shit!” you hissed, hurriedly climbing off of Dean. “Sam’s coming!”

Dean’s eyes widened and you were just about to climb into the back again when you glanced down to his pants, a feeling of dread washing over you. “Dean,” you clipped, your horrified look drawing his gaze to his crotch where the material was completely and utterly soaked through. “What’re we gonna do?” you asked, panic lacing your words.

“Sweetheart, calm down,” Dean said, putting his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I got this.” He quickly shrugged off his flannel, throwing it over his lap. You sent him a skeptical look as you climbed into the back, settling down in your seat just as Sam opened the passenger’s side door. 

You expected him to say something about the flannel on Dean’s lap as he climbed in, but instead he surprised you by wrinkling his nose in disgust. “What the fuck?” he grumbled. “What did y’all do in here? Run a marathon? It reeks like fucking sweat!”

You felt your cheeks turn scarlet as you caught Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “Uh, sorry, man,” Dean said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam said dismissively. “Just roll down a fucking window.”

**********

Your eyes scanned the crowd of dancers as they whirled around the dance floor. Finery and flashing jewels caught your eye at every turn, and you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place even though this was a case. You and the boys were currently hunting what you thought was a shapeshifter posing as one of the wealthy people in the room in order to rob the entire place. You and the Winchesters were dressed to the hilt, and although at first it had been nice to dress up, you couldn’t wait to get back to the motel and into your tank top and pajama shorts.

You glanced towards the back of the ballroom, your eyes finally settling on Dean. He jerked his head to the side, indicating he had found something. You nodded slightly before making your way over to him, hugging the walls.  

It had been nearly a month since your incident with Dean in the Impala. Neither of you had talked about it. It was a one-and-done after all. But you couldn’t help but think about it. It was impossible not to. You remembered everything, from the way he felt underneath you to his groans, pants, and gasps. 

You finally made it to the other side of the room, finding Dean standing near the hallway. He motioned for you to follow him, you hurrying to keep up. You were about halfway down the corridor when Dean suddenly turned, grabbing your bicep, and hauling you into a secluded room. It was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlight outside the window.

“What are we doing?” you hissed, feeling for the knife at your calf. 

You were caught off guard when you felt Dean’s hands fall to your hips and spin you around, your back hitting the wall with a dull thud. 

“Dean!” you gasped as he closed the small distance between you, his body pressing firmly into yours. “Wh...what’s going on?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he growled, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “The way you felt. The sounds you made. Fuck, you don’t know how many times I’ve gotten myself off to them.”

You couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your mouth as he lightly rutted against you, his half-hard cock pressing into your hip. “De...Dean,” you stuttered, trying to think past the arousal coursing through your veins. “Wh...what about the shifter?”

“Already took care of ‘im,” Dean muttered, kissing and nipping down your neck. “Sam’s following up on a few things with the owner.”

You felt yourself relax a bit at his revelation, and you closed your eyes, throwing your arms over his shoulders and holding him close as he continued his ministrations. 

“The way you fall apart,” Dean groaned, his breath coming out in fast, hard little spurts. “Goddammit, sweetheart, I gotta see it again.”

“Dean,” you mewled, all the pent up lust from the past month slowly starting to seep out. You wanted him so badly. You needed to see him unfurl almost as much as he did you. “Please.”

Your hungry plea was all Dean needed. He spun you back around, backing you into a sturdy mahogany desk roughly. You hiked your skirt up as fast as your fingers would allow, Dean’s fumbling with the waistband of your panties. He pushed them down, you deftly stepping out of them before he was on you again.

He hoisted you up quickly, placing you on the desk before kneeling down and throwing both your legs over his shoulders. Dean growled as the scent of your arousal permeated his senses, and his hand came up to your aching core, thick and calloused fingers running through your slick. “Fuck, baby,” he grunted. 

You nearly fell off the table, your hips jerking forward harshly, when his tongue teased your bundle of nerves. But he gripped your thighs, keeping you anchored to the table. He swiped his tongue through your folds once before he really began in earnest, lapping at your juices and sucking on your clit.

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through your body at the pleasure he was giving you, and your hands found his head, desperate to ground yourself even further. He suddenly changed his tactics, fucking you with his tongue while his nose nudged at your swollen bud, the scruff on his face leaving a stinging pleasure on your most sensitive parts.

You came not long after, your legs clenching around his head and your teeth sinking into your lower lip so hard you tasted blood. But you couldn’t hold down a wanton cry as your walls clenched around nothing, so tight it nearly hurt. 

Your whole body was trembling when your walls finally stopped fluttering. Dean gently disengaged your legs from around him, standing and capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. “Fuck me, Dean,” you pleaded as you broke the kiss, your lips ghosting over his.

Dean’s breath hitched and without warning he stepped back, unbuckling and undoing his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one go. His cock sprang free, bouncing off his stomach. Even in the low light of the room, you could see the tip, red and leaking pre-cum. You bit your lip at the sight.

Dean pumped himself a few times before he stepped back between your thighs, running his cock over your still sensitive core and coating himself in your slick before lining himself up with you. You both let out a groan as he pushed in, your walls stretching to accommodate his wide girth. 

“Fuck, baby,” Dean panted. “I knew you’d feel good. But goddamn….”

Dean leaned down and kissed you, gently pulling your lower lip between his teeth, and you clutched at his shoulders as he bottomed out, holding himself steady as he allowed you to adjust. After a few moments, he started moving, going slow at first and picking up the pace when you wrapped your legs around his waist.  

He gripped your ass as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling you in a way you’d never experienced before. Dean rested his forehead against yours, your hot breath mingling together as your mouths hung open, lingering over one another but not touching.

“Mm,” Dean grunted, his thrusts faltering for a moment as you tightened around him. “Fuck, baby. I’m not gonna last much longer…. Feels so good.”

“Dean…” you whimpered as he lifted your leg a little higher around his waist, his cock sliding over your sweet spot. 

He hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers expertly finding your oversensitive clit and swiping back and forth almost frantically, determined to make you cum before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you began to feel your muscles tighten and just like that you came. You buried your face into his neck, your teeth sinking into the flesh as you tried to stifle the loud and lustful cry that ripped from your throat. 

Your orgasm triggered Dean’s, and he groaned deeply, his fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your thigh. He rocked into you sloppily, trying to ride out his orgasm for as long as he could, finally letting go with a quiet grunt of your name as he came deep within you.

He buried his face into your neck as you came down from your highs, only pulling out when you leaned back. You let out a soft whine as he slipped from your depths, already missing the fullness. 

He helped you slide off the desk, taking your face into his large hands and running his thumbs over your cheeks. “You okay?” he asked, smiling softly.

“Yeah,” you said, raising yourself up to kiss him. It was softer this time, and you couldn’t help the painful yearning of your heart as you realized this was probably the end of...whatever the fuck just happened between you and Dean.

Dean pulled away, but only slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a look of desire that wasn’t sexual. “I can’t do it,” he said, his hands sliding down your neck, over your shoulders and arms until finally coming to rest on your hips, one hand splayed out on the small of your back. 

You gave him a questioning look, running your hands up his arms reassuringly, encouraging him to continue when he looked away as if he were embarrassed. 

“I can’t walk away, (Y/N),” he finally admitted, meeting your gaze again. “I can’t just act like this was a quick fuck and that it didn’t mean anything. Because it sure as hell meant something to me. Ever since what happened outside the convenience store…. You’re all I’ve been able to think about. Fuck, (Y/N)! You’ve ruined every other woman for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat and all you found yourself capable of was staring up at him. Never once had you considered that he might have felt the things you’d felt growing over the past month. 

“I...I,” you stuttered, trying to form words past your surprise. “Dean.... I can’t walk away either.”

Dean’s face broke into a wide grin and he pulled you a little tighter against him. “Thank god for sexual frustration,” he said right before he crashed his lips to yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Dean Girls:

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[im-like-if-a-girl]

*THE* mean-girl-dean-girl's Supernatural reboot MEGAPOST!

I'm gonna stick a little "keeping reading" here because hoooooo boy, this is a very long post.

Let's start with

Plot

Season 1

Dean kills John while they are out on a hunt in a crime of passion, but Dean doesn't remember because he blacked out. Cue Dean going to Stanford to get Sam and tell him "Dad's on a hunting trip... and he hasn't been home in a couple days."

The audience doesn't know what happened to John, but slowly figures it out with Dean and Sam as Dean slowly remembers what happened that night.

The entire first season, the boys are following the trail John left and fighting monsters as well. They find out Dean was with John, Sam realizes Dean has an unreliable memory, they have heart to hearts about their childhood and the fire, they find John's body, "how could you kill Dad?" but maybe Dean didn't kill dad, whooaaaaaa, misdirection.

It was actually good ole yeller eyes (Azazel) and he made it look like Dean killed John.

Okay, now let's move on to the first episode

Not sure how the opening would work, I would like the story of the fire to be revealed over the course of the first season, but maybe the opening scene could be a little bit of an establishing character relationships and backstory, idk, I haven't thought that far yet.

I'm thinking maybe it's like, Dean gets back to a motel room covered in blood and he listens to a voicemail on his phone from John saying he was on a hunt or something, I don't really know lol.

HOWEVER

I do know that after the intro rolls, we get a scene of Sam waking up to his alarm and "Nine to Five" by Dolly Parton starts playing.

Y'all know where this is going.

Cue a montage of Sam's normal Stanford college life (him sitting through lectures, walking through the campus with friends) spliced with scenes of Dean absolutely slaughtering a nest of vampires (or some other monsters, whatever works best.)

But

Now onto

Characters!!! (And descriptions)

Dean Winchester

Some lovely person on this site made edits of Dean with platinum blond hair and it made me feel some kind of way so we're doing that, homie's gonna have platinum blond hair

Side note about the hair, later when the brothers are running from the FBI he dyes it a dirty blond/light brown (insert jackles hair color controversy here) as a disguise.

He also gets tattoos because we were robbed.

Speaking of tattoos, concept: when Dean comes back from Hell, all of his tattoos are gone. His body is a clean slate, devoid of tattoos, scars, etc. So he gets his tattoos done all over again, which he doesn't mind because he made some bad, drunk tattoo decisions in his youth.

(And before you ask, yes, he does get one for Cas, either a bee or Cas's name in enochian, something cute.)

Dean goes to therapy after Sam gets sent to the Cage.

It's actually court mandated because he got in trouble, lol, he would never go to therapy on his own.

Along with the hair, Dean gets to be the grade A twunk we all know he is.

Sam Winchester

His hair gets longer in every scene he's in

No jk, but imagine

King of Microaggressions

Sam starts off like the sweetheart he is in season 1 but in later seasons he starts enjoying killing a little too much...

It's that demon blood, ba-by!!!

He brings up issues of morality to Dean, i.e. killing monsters who aren't hurting anyone. (Yes I know this is contradictory to my previous statement, but these two facets of Sam can and will coexist.)

Sam and Jess's relationship is explored further, meaning we'll need to start with a different inciting incident, but that's fine, I think everyone can agree fridgings are *(thumbs down)*

Sam doesn't truly know what happened the night of the fire until later, and then he understands why Dean is so protective of him.

Jess

She gets to live beyond the first episode

She is also trans

No, I don't feel like I have to explain myself and I won't 💜

She urges Sam to join Dean in a search for their brother, kind of gets pulled into the hunter lifestyle by association lol.

She dies on a rusty nail after fighting vampires on a routine hunt with Sam

No jk!!!

But imagine....

She's amazing and I love her and Lucifer also uses her as leverage against Sam and possesses her because I think that'd be cool.

She supports Sam 100% and also she and Dean are buddies, pals if you will.

She meets Cas Thee El and immediately she Knows, that is a homosexual.

She dies still so that we can have a Saileen Endgame but she's not dying the first episode or in a fridging. Not on my watch.

Castiel

He gets to keep his raw, light-fixture-exploding power.

I want more of that "I pulled you out of hell, I can throw you back in" energy except over dumb shit like Dean not cleaning up after himself.

He looks like a Dilf in every scene he's in, yeah, that's right, dilf with a capital D for *(GUNSHOTS)* *(gets sent to horny jail)*

Claire

She gets pink hair

And more time with Cas

And maybe a nose piercing

Feel like she should be able to kill a couple angels onscreen, punch a couple homophobes

She gets to meet Jack and teaches him swears and fun slang words.

She deserves it.

Jack

I says "that's my baby and I'm proud."

Jack starts off as a baby, but like Amara he grows up super quickly.

Like, baby to 11 year old in a couple days or less.

This is because Jack's emotional age on the show is on par with that of a 5th grader.

It's at this point when he's a young kid that he runs away from the Bunker and shenanigans ensue.

It's also at this point that Dean threatens to k*ll him.

(Still not sure if I want that in my Supernatural (threatened infanticide? In my Supernatural? It's more likely than you think) but we'll see. We'll see.)

Throughout a majority of season 13, Jack is like an 11 y.o. kid

Season 14 he's like a 16 y.o. teenager

Season 15 he's 21, you get the picture.

Listen, I love Alex Calvert a lot. He's great.

But Jack is a child and should be a child.

Kelly Kline

Kelly, baby, stay right where you are, you're perfect.

Eileen

SHE DOESN'T DIE

SHE GETS TO BE IN THE FINALE BECAUSE SHE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HER.

BLURRY WIFE WHO? I ONLY KNOW SAILEEN ENDGAME!

She teaches Claire and Jack swears in sign-language. Castiel is not impressed.

John

J*hn W*nchester stans, DNI.

He's dead.

We only see him in flashbacks and only sometimes hear his voice in voice overs.

He's not "down the road" from Dean in Heaven, in fact he instead gets to wander around in some Purgatory like Hell for the rest of his time :)

People who get to say "fuck" on the show:

Cas (but only Once)

Jody

Bobby

Now onto other things

I want more of

Ghostfacers

(they need more screentime because I love them)

Dean/Benny

We know they had a thing.

They definitely had a thing.

Demon Dean

Again, I feel like more should've been done with this. All that build up for what, 2 episodes? was not utilized well at all.

Dean's Bisexuality

Straight Dean truthers DNI, my Supernatural is a show about love and being true to yourself

You think Supernatural is a show about 2 straight brothers fighting monsters?

Naw bitch, this is a show about the Gay Experience

He will get to have relations with men on this show.

Of course, only after John dies does he, y'know, display it. Maybe he kisses Cas on his dad's grave just to fuck John over, make him roll in grave.

We all agree John would be/is a homophobe piece of shit, right?

Okay, glad we're on the same page.

Dads

3 men and a baby with Jack is what I'm saying.

I love it when the Trio are father-figures to younger troubled characters they see themselves in, even better if it's like reluctant-but-loving father figure, oh, that trope gets me every time :'^)

Dadstiel and DadDean are my favorites, but I like it when Sam plays "Uncle Sam" to kids too lol.

"Fellas, is it gay to want a tight knit family with your husband, his son, his vessel's daughter, your brother, his wife, your cop mother figure and her wife and their adopted daughters? Asking for a friend."

Garth

Biggest flaw of Supernatural was underutilizing Garth.

I will never not be bitter that Garth was only in like, 7 episodes out of the whole 15 season series.

Every episode with Garth gets immediately 5 times better.

I love Garth.

Follow ups on characters who had entire episodes featured around them and then just... vanished???

This is mostly about Jesse, the magic kid whose imagination ruled an entire town like, his daddy was a demon and nothing came of that kid??? Only one episode about him?? No follow up???

KID CAN MANIPULATE REALITY AND WE'RE NOT GONNA GET A FOLLOW UP ON THAT?????

Uh, there was that one episode with Ennis the guy whose girlfriend was killed by a monster? I think?? Who we never see again, that was weird.

Tamara from season 3, episode 1.

And of course-

Cassie

She was so cool, and then we never saw her again :////

She gets to be a badass.

Religious imagery

As a former Catholic school student who has become for the most part, disillusioned with religion, religious imagery in TV shows like Supernatural make my brain go "brrrrrr."

Fun episodes!!!

Like, after season 6 or so, there's a drop in funny episodes

I'm talking Changing Channels, The French Mistake type stuff. (Scoobynatural is an outlier and should not be counted.)

So anyway

In my version we would have more fun episodes

I'm thinking

GENDER-SWAP EPISODE, BABY!!

(why they didn't do that in the original, we'll never know.)

An episode where Dean gets to wear eyeliner

That's it, end of post.

I want less

Racism

Yeah I feel like this is self explanatory, nearly every reoccurring character in SPN is white, and black side characters normally die in the episode they first appear in, or they'll be featured as a villain (Uriel, Raphael, Billie, etc)

Also there's a lot of... uh... asian fetishism featured in the show (what with "Busty Asian Beauties) that's really gross, also Kevin was a bit of a stereotype...

Also also it's super yucky how they kill the gods from other religions like???? Uh??? That's super disrespectful, let's not do that????

I know Supernatural is like, inherently racist because monsters are a separate race that are seen as some dangerous "other" that must be eradicated by hunters in a form of genocide-

Okay we won't get into that but

Still

Stop killing all your POC

Fridgings/Unecessary murders of female characters

I know Supernatural starts with a fridging, so this will be a hard thing to remedy, but

One death that really pissed me off was the death of Charlie

Yeah, that was pointless and we're not doing that. Charlie gets to live and be an awesome aunt to Jack.

And also Claire

Charlie Bradbury Superiority

Charlie and Garth get to meet because they're nerd/geek solidarity.

British Men of Letters

I fucking hate these guys

They're "litcherally" the worst.

The worst part is that the actors they have playing the British AREN'T. EVEN. BRITISH.

And you can tell

Uh, and that's all for now, I'll add more later.

tag list for people who liked my "if this post gets one like I'll post my SPN reboot masterpost" post.

@darianyunidi @sarasidlesaid @crazybananaalpaca @playfulpanthress @ultfreakme @fififeelsmellow @heller-char @luna8eaton @princessmeganfire @insanebot109 @queenofnightsnow @mongoose-underthehouse

Thank you for the support, hope the wait was worth it.

[holylulusworld]

Her again

Title: Her again

Square Filled: Office AU

Ship: AU!Dean x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Jo Harvelle, Charlie Bradbury, John Winchester

Rating: explicit

Warnings: angst, language, lies, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, unrequited love?, a hint of breeding kink, consensual degrading (name calling), a hint of choking, light blow job, hand job, implied smut

Summary: At an office party you finally turn your back on Dean.

Word Count: 2,4 k

Written/Created for @spnaubingo​​​​​

2020 SPN AU BINGO Masterlist

Divider by @writeyourmindaway​

“Her again?” Jo huffs, watching you look at Dean who has one arm pressed against the wall to cage Lisa Braeden, the girl getting the job you wanted. “I can’t understand what everyone sees in her.”

“A dog in heat,” Charlie grunts. “Wonder how she got the job without having the qualifications Dean wanted. Do you know what that bitch did before she started working here?”

“Charlie do not use the b-word. We are all women and do not…,” Lisa turns her attention toward you, grinning wildly as Dean brushes a lash off her cheek. “Okay, she’s a bitch.”

“That chick was a fucking yoga instructor, girls,” Charlie jerks her head toward Sam who winks at you, offering you another free drink. “I should tell Sam she got the job for blowing her boss…”

“Charlie, we do not know if she got the job that way,” you watch Dean grab another drink, eyes landing on you. He raises the glass, but you do not have it in you to return the smile he gives you. “I’ll have that drink with you now.”

“Sam is fighting for your attention, girl. Go and get him, tiger,” Jo snickers at Charlies' words, pecking her friend’s cheek.

“I am not in the mood for stupid office rumors to spread. I do not need someone telling my boss I fucked his brother only as we shared a drink,” grumbling you walk toward Sam, taking the awful eggnog out of his hands.

“My brother again?” Sam muses watching his brother eye you warily as you give his younger brother a soft smile. “He’s a fool for not seeing you.”

“Well, I worked my ass off and didn’t get the position. I cannot compare with chicks like Lisa Braeden. I don’t know,” you sigh deeply, smile fading away. “Men do prefer girls like her, not me. I am awkward around men like your brother or you.”

“You are talking with me,” Sam slings one arm around your shoulders, squeezing your arm. “Maybe you should’ve told him that you like him.”

“And embarrass me even more,” deadpanning you point toward Dean who offers Lisa another drink. “Look at him, Sam he’s in his flirting modus. There is no chance he will not take her home like all the other girls. I do not want to be another notch on his belt. At least I’ll keep my dignity and do not have to do the Dean Winchester walk of shame.”

“That’s a new one,” snickering Sam looks at his brother whose jaw ticks anytime Sam touches you. “Dean Winchester walk of shame…”

“Maybe ‘I fucked my boss and now I have to quit’ would be more appropriate. I bet she is good, flexible, and all. I mean as a former yoga instruct…,” biting your tongue you pray Sam didn’t get the last words.

“I know she’s not qualified for the job, Y/N,” Sam does not like the way Dean acts around Lisa, not at all. “They have a history, okay. During his wilder times, he had an affair with her for like a week.”

“Great,” voice dripping with sarcasm you look at Sam. “He dunked his dick into her cunt and that’s the reason she got the job. A job she is not even qualified for. I worked my ass off. My relationship went downhill thanks to the fact I was married to my job. Fuck this,” you throw the glass with eggnog to the ground, glaring at Dean who turned his attention toward you.

“Y/N, calm down,” Sam tries but you push his hand away.

“This is ridiculous. Our boss fucks a yoga instructor for a week, and she gets the job Cole and I applied for. If Cole would have gotten it, I would have understood. He is longer at the company than I, has more experience but this is a shitshow and I am out of this for good. Fuck Winchester Inc. and fuck his CEO, Dean Winchester.”

Giving Sam an apologetic smile you pat his chest. “You’re not the one I hate right now. I will grab my shit and you’ll get my termination letter.” Sam can only watch you storm out of the room to rush toward your office.

“What the fuck was that Sam?” Dean gasps only catching a glimpse of you storm out of the room. Sam shrugs a smug grin on his lips.

“That was the best employee and woman for the job you gave your ex quitting her job and calling you a jerk,” Sam still grins when his brother storms after you. “I mean, you are a jerk after all.”

“Sam? What happened?” Charlie feels her legs give in. “That was not the plan! How shall we get those two together when she quits her job?”

“Relax, Charlie,” not worried at all Sam offers Charlie a self-assured smirk. “My brother will beg, plea, and fall to his knees to not lose Y/N.”

“Done?” Dean eyes you warily when you storm out of your office to leave the building. “Not even a goodbye?”

“Goodbye, jerk!” you brush past Dean, not caring he follows you. “I can’t believe you gave that yoga chick the job instead of Cole or me.” You stop in your tracks, glaring at Dean whilst you stomp your heel onto his foot, causing him to grunt in pain.

“I know, I did not deserve the position yet, but I thought I’ll give it a try. Cole, I knew he would make it, but he is great at his job. That girl can barely keep up with her tasks. She always bugs Jo to do most of her job,” you blink the tears of anger away. “I am disappointed more than I am mad. I know you tend to think with your dick but making such a lousy decision to get your dick sucked is the shadiest thing you ever did.”

“She doesn’t suck anything, Y/N,” Dean grasps for your hand but you wiggle out of his grip, giving him a warning glare. Sam, Charlie, and Jo can only watch you yell at Dean.

“Yeah, that’s the reason she got a job she’s not qualified for. I know you want to give people with less qualification or education a chance, but this is not such a job,” anger taking over you drop the box to backhand Dean. “That’s for ruining my relationship by forcing me to work my ass off for nothing.”

Rubbing his burning cheek Dean watches you pick your box back up. “There I stand, believing you and I could’ve had something. I am still the nerdy chick helping you with your grades. But this is over. Look for someone else to pamper your ego and the rest of Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N, wait,” the look on your face let Dean stop in his tracks. “She needed a job and that was the only free position, I swear.”

“Dean, we were looking for assistants, a new PR manager and so on when she started to work her. Do not underestimate me, Winchester. I am not a dumb little lamb falling for the big bad wolf,” you are half-way out of the building before Dean catches up with you.

“Wait, sweetheart,” not stopping you walk faster. “Please…”

“Won’t work anymore, Dean. Shove that sugar-sweet pet name up to your ass,” you blink the tears away, taking a deep breath. “Good thing I never told you I love you because this would’ve been embarrassing as hell,” the door slams shut behind you and Dean swallows the lump in his throat.

“Dean what the fuck!” Sam runs after his brother, watching you enter a cab. “You should’ve stopped her. That was the plan.”

“I told you he’ll mess up,” Charlie pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jo, check Y/N’s office, maybe she forgot something. Sam, you will check her termination letter. Dean, stop being a jerk.”

“She loves me,” Dean grins dreamily. “I mean, hell she loves me.”

“Uh-Dean, I hate to ruin your daydreams but at the moment she rather hates you,” Jo shrugs, giving Charlie a wink. “Don’t think she liked watching you flirt with that Braeden chick.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight this way,” Dean grunts into your ear, pressing his sweaty chest closer to you back.

He has you on your belly, legs straddled by his muscular thighs, his cock so deep inside of you it borders on pain, your boss pumps wildly into you. “You’re such a slut for my dick.”

“D’, fuck,” you whine, fighting the ropes holding your hands bound behind your back. “I want to cum.”

“Did you earn to cum?” His lips press against your ear and you shudder, feeling his tongue slide in. “You caused quite a scene there.”

“You said, oh-please right there,” Dean’s large palm wraps around your throat, forces your body to bend to his will. “Please…”

“I said, make it look believable, not fucking rip me apart,” he slams into your abused pussy, making you yelp with every thrust. “I wanted them to believe you quit.”

“Dean, please. I need it,” his free hand slips between your thighs, to toy with your pulsing nub. “I’ll do anything, Sir.”

“I know you will,” Dean muses, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Monday morning you will come to my office, apologize and I’ll yell at you while you blow me like a fucking pro.”

“All you want but please let me cum,” watching Dean in the mirror he placed opposite his bed you roll your eyes. He is grinning wickedly, loving he won the upper hand. “Please.”

“Fucking cum on my dick,” now you push back onto his length, feeling your toes curl. “I want this pussy to squeeze me, milk me dry. You know, I’ll give you all my cum until you are round. Everyone will see you are my whore.”

“Dean!” You cry out, fluttering around his twitching length. “Give me your cum, Sir. Please.” Dean approves your words, gives you shallow thrusts to ride your high out. “Please.”

“There you go, slut,” sticky cum runs down your thighs, ruining the silky sheets. “Love fucking this cunt.”

“I am sorry,” you sigh, snuggling into Dean’s chest. “You said I shall make it look believable and got carried away.” Gently stroking the cheek, you backhanded you look up at Dean. “This sucks.”

“Listen, my father is a strict bastard. Whether we keep our relationship a secret and you can have the position, or we go public and lose it all,” Dean sighs, running one large palm over your ass, squeezing it roughly.

“Lisa played her role well,” giggling you peck Dean’s cheek. “I mean, fuck me, she should get an Oscar for her performance.”

“This way we got rid of Cole without firing him,” Dean grins, moving his hand to your back to tickle your skin. “We had to make him leave on free terms, believing Lisa got the position. Next week you will come back, and I will suggest that you’ll get the position to avoid that you sue me for being a naughty boss.”

“Sounds good to me,” you love the plan Dean and you developed over the last months. “They will lose the bet too. Five hundred bucks for new shoes.”

“You were the only one betting you’ll quit during our Christmas party. I got an evil mastermind in my bed.” You nod eagerly, exclaiming you used an avatar for the bet.

“Now back to me going down on you, boss,” a low growl leaves Dean’s lips when you crawl under the blanket to have a look at his dick. “Looks good, Sir. Maybe I should,” hissing Dean lifts the blanket to watch you lick the tip.

“Sweetheart, I wanted you in my office, on your knees like a good girl but,” he throws his head back, moaning your name when you lick him all over. “Forget it, just take me in your warm mouth, baby girl.”

Voice husky, at least two octaves deeper Dean urges you on, praises your mouth, pussy, and anything he loves. “Please baby girl, suck daddy’s cock.”

You look up at Dean, giggling. “Sorry, I don’t know where this was coming from, Y/N.” His cheeks shades of pink Dean pats your head when you play with his balls. “Such a good little cocksucker. Aren’t you a good little bitch?”

“Winchester stop making me wet again, dammit,” you pump him slowly before you relax your jaw enough to try again. “If you say another word, I’ll ride that dick until it falls off.”

“Fuck me, come up here,” before you can protest Dean tosses the blanket aside, to watch you crawl onto his lap. “Now ride me until you are a mess…”

“See, we need to do something about this,” Dean points toward the faked papers you hand him this morning. “She will sue me if I do not give her the position, father.” Whilst John looks at the papers, you have a grand time teasing Dean.

His cock at your mercy you run your hand up and down his length. Moments before John waltzed into his son's office you wanted to suck your boss off. Now you have him at your mercy and enjoy every second.

“Jesus, that bitch is greedy,” John curses, just like Dean when you slap his dick. “She will sue us for your mistake. Fire Braeden, no give her a suiting position and give that greedy cunt the job. I hope you can dick her down one day for fucking with you…”

“Oh-I will dick her down, Sir,” Dean grunts feeling your hand move faster along his shaft. “Metaphorically, of course…”

“Such a needy slut,” Dean grunts, pushing upward. You are on his lap, back against his chest. His hands on your tits he let you ride him while he checks some numbers, or at least tries to do so. “Naked on your boss’s lap in the middle of your lunch break.”

“He forced me down his dick, Sir. What can I do when he wants to fuck the neediness out of me?” You grin feeling Dean’s fingers pinch your nipples.

“Now, ride me like a good girl and later we will go to my apartment and celebrate you won the bet, got the position, and my dick on the same day.”

“Deal, Mr. Winchester,” you roll your hips faster, moaning as you hit that spot making you see stars. “Now I want you to fuck me over your desk like the slut I am for you.”

“Always so needy, Ms. Y/L/N,” Dean snickers. “I’ll see what I can do for you…”

Tags in reblog.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 9

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU!Detective Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - None, Fluff-ish

Word Count - 1.5k

Square Filled - Clothes Sharing ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N 1 - Surprise, this series lives! So, it has been a loooong time. I wasn't originally planning to post this part today but my college is killing me and I am hardly getting any writing (and reading) done. This was already done and edited so I finally decided to post this today.

A/N 2 - This may seem like a filler chapter but it's not, trust me. It's a very important chapter which plays a crucial part in the next chapters. ENJOY!

Beta'd by the absolute sweetheart @deanwanddamons <3<3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Groaning loudly, Dean dropped his head as you paced around the room, complaining for the hundredth time that night.

“Will you stop?” He grumbled. You came to a halt when you heard his words and turned to look towards him. Throwing a glare his way you continued your pacing .

“Y/N/N, stop it. This isn't going to solve our problem - it'll only annoy the tenants downstairs,” he said and got up from his chair.

“What are we supposed to do? My pacing around is definitely not helping neither is your what, fourth glass of whiskey,” you retorted.

“Third,” Dean said, “this is my third glass and I'm tryin’ to get drunk.”

“We ended up in this situation because we were slacking and this is exactly what we are doing again,” you raised your voice, regretting your decision to stay at Dean’s house with him, “if you won't even try to get out of this situation, I'll be going back to my house tomorrow.”

“You won't stay alone in that house until we catch that son of a bitch,” he said, setting his glass and walking over to you, “it's dangerous.”

You knew it was dangerous considering how the house you had rented in Kansas was destroyed when you had gone back to get your belongings - furniture was thrashed, utensils were broken and clothes were torn, but nothing was stolen. It was clear that Crowley's men were trying to send you a sign to leave their boss alone.

It was Bobby who suggested that staying alone and travelling a few kilometres everyday to discuss the proceedings of the case would be a bad idea since Crowley and Co. were waiting for the perfect opportunity to cause disruption in the case. And knowing how ruthless Crowley could be, murder and kidnapping didn't seem like a far-fetched option for him.

Dean had piped up saying it would be better to stay at his house since he had noticed your house had a weak security system. His other reason was that he had a car, unlike you.

Needless to say, you had reluctantly agreed to stay with the green eyed detective, but deep down inside, you knew that staying with Dean gave you a sense of security and you didn't want to let that go.

“We will figure a way out,” he said, standing a little too close to you.

“How?” You asked the obvious question.

“I have contacted my brother. He will be working as our lawyer to get them to drop the charges. Sammy will be here early morning tomorrow,” he said, removing a stray piece of hair from your face, “but you gotta cool down, sweetheart. Give that pretty little head of yours a little rest.”

“I-I can't. I am freaking out Dean,” you said.

“I know. You have almost bore a hole in the ground by your pacing,” you hit his arm lightly, making him chuckle, “I'm thinkin’ about the case too.”

“Is Sam-will he be able to….this is a critical one,” you mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“I have faith in my brother and he can go to hell and back to save me just like I can. Sammy will do anything to help us. Trust me,” he said, putting a finger under your chin, prompting you to look up at him. He leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. This simple act worked like a sedative and you calmed down a bit.

“Join me for a drink,” Dean said and strolled his way back to the couch. You followed him and took a seat beside him. Pouring a drink, he handed you the glass.

“One drink. Only.” You said.

“Alright.”

“Who do you think might be the mole?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink

“It can be anyone. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Rufus-”

“Ruby, you,” he nodded, “me.”

“Like I said, it could be anyone,” Dean said.

“Motive?”

“Depends.”

“Do you think we can prove our innocence?” You asked, “the cops kinda caught us red handed and-”

“It's….tough.” Dean said and jumped out of his seat, knocking over the tumbler of ice.

You tilted your head in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” You insisted.

“A few years back, when we were only fledglings in the bureau, Rufus Turner was working Crowley’s case. This information was in the case file that Bobby gave to us. He had arrested two men in his gang but by the time they had got to know about that dick, they had already lost him. He had escaped the feds again,” he explained, flailing his arms all around in excitement.

“Maybe we can find out who those two men were and interrogate them about Crowley,” you said, smiling a little for the first time that night, knowing you had a lead.

“Now all we need is access to those two men's files. FBI is not gonna help us so we have to take matters in our own hands. I’ll call Ash and ask him to find those,” Dean said and ran back to his room to get his phone.

“Ash? What about Charlie?” You asked, when he came back to the room, “And shouldn't you tell Sam first? He is our lawyer and he should be informed about this.”

“It's not like we are gonna interrogate a witness and Ash is a good friend of mine. He is not a fed whereas Charlie works at the bureau and right now we can't trust anyone who works there because we don't know who might be working as a two-faced devil and ratting us out to the God of the Underworld,” Dean said, dialing Ash’s number.

“Ash,” he said when the said man picked up the phone after a few rings.

“Listen, we are kind of in a tricky situation here-oh you heard….not really, we got one week….no it won't….I know you're a busy man, Ash,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “but we need your help….yeah….the thing is we need access to the old case files related to the drug mafia Crowley….yeah I know that genius….can't you-fine….I owe you one.”

“So?” You asked, hoping for good news.

“Ash will let us know by morning,” he said.

“Can we trust him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you reached for the bottle of whiskey.

“What do you think you're doing?” Dean asked, raising his brow.

“Relaxin’,” you shrugged, “you should try to relax sometimes.”

“You think you're such a smartass, huh?” He said and plopped down on the couch beside you, making you giggle.

“Thanks for tonight, Winchester,” you turned towards your friend.

“For what? For helping you calm down when you were running around like a headless chicken?” He smirked.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “you know what I mean.”

“I'm here for you. We're in this shit together and I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said as you moved closer to him.

“And I have faith in you.” He pulled you closer and kept your head on his shoulder. He hummed in response. You closed your eyes, sighing loudly, but the sweet moment of coziness was interrupted quickly.

Your eyes flew open, “You son of a bitch, Winchester! Way to ruin a moment! How dare you put ice in my sweatshirt?” Dean laughed out loud.

“First of all, that's my sweatshirt you are wearing and you were looking too peaceful with your head on my shoulder,” he laughed.

“Fuck you!” You growled, and hit his arm hard.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arms. Dean effectively dodged your second attack, “woah, easy there tiger.” By now you were laughing too. As your laughter died down, you looked at Dean and saw him smiling softly at you. You blushed furiously under his strong gaze.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, clearing his throat.

“Uh-huh. Kinda forgot about food today until now.” You said, diverting your eyes.

“I'm thinking about ordering pizza. You okay with that?” He asked.

“Sure.” You said.

Half an hour later, as you were enjoying the delicious pizza and watching some crappy tv trying to put a break on the racing thoughts, you heard Dean speak.

“About earlier,” he sighed.

“Oh yeah. You better be sorry Winchester,” you gave him an annoyed look.

“No, I'm not sorry for that. It was fun,” he laughed.

“No it wasn't,” you said, but failed to hide the smile threatening to take over your face.

“It made you smile,” he pointed out.

“Fine, you're forgiven,” you said as Dean gave you a cheeky grin.

“In all seriousness, what I said earlier, I meant it. I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek, your skin tingling with an unknown sensation.

“I know,” you said, “I think I should go to bed now. We have a long day ahead of us.” Dean nodded as you got up and made your way over to his guest room.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little “reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

*****************************************************************************************************

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

*****************************************************************************************************

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.  

[jayankles]

We Need to Talk: Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Parent!Reader

Sam and Dean need the Reader’s help with a case involving her expertise but Dean and the Reader need to have a little chat.

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: Dean is rightfully angry in this. Talks of sex. (if I missed anything let me know.)

Written for: @spngenrebingo​​ / @badthingshappenbingo​​ / @spndeanbingo​​ / @spnaubingo​​ / @/spnonewordbingo

Squares Filled: meet the parents /  voice breaking  / single parent au / free space / rocky

Also written for @sdavid09​​ ’s Tale Tellers 2020 Bingo Challenge, covering the ‘Slice of life’ square.

Part 1

FEEDBACK IS GOLD AND APPRECIATED

“Uh, Y/N? Who’s this?” Dean said as Ollie had stopped playing with his toys and started to stare between the two new giants in the room.

Awkwardly, you rub and twist your hands around each other, a nervous act that you had acquired over the years. “This is my son, Oliver. Dean, I think we need to talk.”

“Hey, Sam? Could you watch him for a few minutes please?” When he accepted it, you graciously thanked him, leading Dean up to your bedroom away from prying eyes and ears. It was tough, stepping into your bedroom thinking about the last time you saw him and his brother.

“It’s really good to see you.” You break the silence as you sit on the edge of your bed.

He only nods, obviously it’s awkward, it’s been over three years since you had seen each other. “So, you wanted to talk.” 

Damn it, the man is smart as hell but he could be oblivious to the most obvious things. Or maybe he knew about it and wanted to punish you. Either way, you were screwed and was going to have to tell him, you were going to have to spell it out for him.

“Oliver’s father hasn’t really been in his life-”

“What a douchebag! You need me to find him and beat him to a pulp?” Dean interrupted, his hand finding yours to stop them wringing together. 

“Dean, he doesn’t know. It was a one time thing and he didn’t really have the capacity to take care of a kid, he was scared that he couldn’t keep anyone safe. I wasn’t about to spring him with a kid that he probably didn’t want when I could take care of Ollie myself”

“Was it another hunter?”

“Dean Winchester, I swear. I will lose my shit if you don’t let me tell you on my own terms.”

“Sorry, I just care about you. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you and Oliver.”

Your nose tingled as tears came to your eyes, hearing him say those words meant the word to you. You wished you had someone like that in Oliver’s life and it was your own fault for not telling his father in the first place because you were a scared piece of shit and chickened out on making that one phone call that could have potentially saved any of this embarrassment. 

“Remember that night that shapeshifter took out my leg,and we hid in Bobby’s cabin and you took care of me?” You tried to explain slowly, his eyes widening as soon as the cogs in his head turned into place, suddenly remembering how that fateful night had ended. You couldn’t help but be ashamed of yourself. How you had deprived the man, the man you considered a best friend, the truth. The tears fell but you wiped them as quick as they came, you were not the victim, Dean was. It was of course a shitty thing to do.

“So, Oliver’s mine?” Dean asked, wrapping his head around what you had implied. With your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded solemnly. Dean’s tongue brushed over his teeth, sucking on them. “And you didn’t think to call me at least to tell me that I have a goddamn son? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that fucking selfish? What if I wanted to help out, be there for Oliver, for you? You really think I don’t have the goddamn capacity to take care of a kid - my kid?” 

He was right, of course he was, you were selfish to keep his own son away from him. You were scared and that was still no excuse. You swallowed, sniffling and nodding your head. “I tell him about you, you know.”

“Tell him that he’s got a deadbeat father that doesn’t know he exists?” Dean scoffs, almost a choked out laugh. He was on the verge of tears but the anger ripped right through him; all he could see was red.

“Nope,” you stand from the edge of your bed, scratching at the side of your face. You rummage through your bookshelf and find the box that you had hidden up there. “Quite the opposite actually. Told him you were practically a superhero. I tell him that I used to be yours and Sam’s sidekick.”

You both chuckle at that, Dean more so just because he knows that you were pretty much the Batman when you were at the bunker and more often than not, you were there to save their asses. 

“He doesn’t believe it about me being out there with you because I’m just his mommy but he knows that you’re out there protecting him.That kid’s mind is like a sponge; he takes in all the information you tell him and-” You choked out, hiding it as a faux cough. “He’s smart, he definitely gets that from you. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you before but I just got scared. I want you to be it Oliver’s life, even if that means you’re not in mine. This is all your decision.”

With that, you left the box on the bed,waiting a few seconds before you tapped him on his thigh, letting him ponder your words as you leave the room and head downstairs to where Oliver and his uncle is. You would have to tell him too.

Fuck.

“You havin’ fun there baby?” You ask Oliver, already knowing the answer as Sam throws him up into the air, catching him as soon as he falls back down. Almost a heart attack? Check. But the feeling all but dissipated when you hear his loud laughter. 

“Yeah,” he laughs maniacally this time, it’s contagious and you can’t stop your own laugh. It was then that you knew the answer. Oliver was having the time of his life. At least he was bonding with his uncle Sammy already, babbling over and over about how he wanted to go again and higher this time. 

“Ollie, you wanna go show Dean your dinosaur bed sheets? He’s upstairs in mommy’s room.” Sam handed him over to you and you lifted Oliver over the stair gate, watching as he toddled his way up the stairs safely. “You want a coffee? I’m sure you and Dean had a long drive.”

“Thank you,” he nods, following you into the kitchen. “So, I’m guessing you told him.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you gave him a lost expression. “What are you t-”

Sam raises an eyebrow, lips pursed before he interrupts you. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t play dumb with me. You know what I’m talking about. Oliver looks exactly like a miniature Dean with a perfect mix of each of your skin tones. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out either. We last saw you about three years ago and Oliver is two. Besides I heard the two of you before you left. It was gross so I slept in the car.”

“I guess, it’s pointless to say that you’re an uncle now, huh?” You scratch at your arm before grabbing the coffee pot and pouring him out a cup. “Sugar’s in the cupboard in the corner and creamer in the fridge, you know, if you changed your preferences from the last time I saw you.”

“The shouting upstairs kinda gave it away, made sure to play with Oliver to distract him.” You were thankful to have Sam, he was a good egg. 

“I am sorry you had to find this way. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want for us to become a liability. You were better off saving the world whilst I could protect me and Ollie. I didn’t want to be a burden to the two of you, especially when you had already looked after me, when we were young and stupid and I didn’t wanna listen to the two of you. I wanted to be the one to kick the shit out of you guys for lying about what goes bump in the night but the vamps beat me to it so I had to believe that the shit was real.”

“You shouldn’t swear, Oliver could pick up all the bad words you’re spewin’.” Dean says as he enters the kitchen, hand in hand with his son. “There better be enough coffee for me in that pot over there.”

You nod, making him one before you grab yourself an energy breakfast bar from the fridge. “You boys had breakfast?”

*

You made it to the small cafe, giving your friend a small wave as you entered with Oliver, Sam and Dean close behind you. Liah was quick to round the corner and say hello to her friend and her favourite little guy. The tall dudes that came behind her were just a bonus package to brighten her day.

“Hiya, sweetie.” She came in for a hug, squeezing you before she ruffled Oliver’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “How are my favourite customers?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you.I feel like it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two months, Y/N. Of course it’s been forever but I’ve been busy with Eric and college.” She huffed and you told her that she didn’t have to say another word. You know how hard she worked. It was hard to balance work and college but you knew that Eric was good for her; he was keeping her on the right track, making sure that she slept, ate, took breaks from her studies. He really cared about her.  “Take a seat with those fine ass men and I will take your order after I get some tips from that old geezer over there.”

She left, her notebook shoved into her apron as skipped over to the other side of the quiet diner.

“After you, find a booth anywhere you want, you’re my guests.” You said, waiting for the boys to find a table for the four of you.

“I really hope you’re paying because everything looks so good on this menu.” Dean groaned, overlooking the menu, you had to agree, they did cook some amazing things and you came in so much they made a secret menu item just for you.

“I’m paying but anything over two plates, you pay for yourself. I’m not made of money.” 

Dean nodded, smiling when he noticed Liah come back with her pen and pad. “Am I getting you the Y/N special?”

“You know it, baby. Can you get Oliver some eggs and a little bit of bacon?”

“Sure thing. And for you boys?” Liah quickly scribbled down your order and waited for the boys to make up their mind.

Sam tucks his curtain of hair behind his ear. “Would it be okay to get a chicken salad with an egg white omelette on the side?”

Liah hummed, “any drinks with that?”

“Coffee, please.”

“And for you?” Dean is next on Liah’s list. 

“Here we go, a stack of pancakes to start me off and then a plate of your greasiest breakfast foods you have.”

“Coming right up, you want a coffee too?” 

Dean nods, thanking Liah as she walks away putting in your order, he’s almost certain that she’s spoken the words ‘baby daddy’ but he’s not too sure, his ear may have deceived him.

Liah comes out no later than 10 minutes, you know that everything is freshly cooked so you’re not worried about the wait. It gave you some moments with your favourite men, quietly catching up on the time that you lost with them, you never got tired of hearing their stories; even if it was their lives, you still loved that they were here to tell the tale.

You tucked into your food, watching over your family as they ate. Oliver inhaled his food almost as soon as it was set down on the table, you looked over at Dean and he had finished all but one of his pancakes. Like father, like son. You should have known really. All those years you spent with the Winchesters, all those annoying habits that got on your last goddamn nerve. But you still loved them - as much as you could.

“So I guess I’m finally meeting both of Oliver’s parents, right?” Liah whispers with a smile on her face, looking over your shoulder, making sure that you were out of earshot of the Winchesters and that Oliver was already preoccupied.

 She was happy to meet Dean after all those times that you spoke of him. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you. All good things I promise, which is surprising because she talks a lot of shit about others. You must be really special to her.” 

“He’s good people. One that protects others.” You look at Dean sincerely, catching his lips curl up into a smile before he watched Oliver play with his toy dinosaurs. “Sam’s not too bad either. Now go do your job before you almost get fired...again.”

After your meal, before you even have the chance to reach into your pocket, Dean takes the bill and pays for it all and by the smile on Liah’s face, you know that he left a tip. The four of you were back on your way to the place you called a home.

“So why Oliver? The name I mean.” Dean asks later that evening as Oliver watches his favourite show. 

“Named him after my favourite superhero, duh.”

“Please don’t tell me his middle name is Arthur after Arthur Curry.” He groaned, almost whined. He hated Aquaman with a vengeance, a fish man that controls water.

“No Dean, you don’t have to worry about your son being called Oliver Arthur. He’s Oliver Dean, after my other hero.” You whisper, leaning back in your seat and staring into those gorgeous green eyes of his.

 “The one who has saved my life countless times. The one who I should have told about his son. You’re the one who I loved Dean, the one who gave me the best gift of all even without knowing it.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. He can’t. Not with the tears gathering in his eyes, the ones matching yours. You’ve missed him. Missed the way the two of you would joke around. Missed the way that he would flirt with you. Missed the way that you could sit in complete silence, letting yourself bask in each other's company without ever being bored or would never be uncomfortable. But right now all you wanted to do was kiss him. You wanted him in your life but you couldn’t until you were sure that he wanted to be in Oliver’s life. That he wanted to be in your life.

“I loved you too.” His voice is small, almost unheard but you’ve trained your ears for any noise ever since Oliver was born. He licked at his lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before he whispered again. “I still love you, Y/N.”

His eyes drop to your lips before they drag away seeing Oliver asleep and Sam had already retired to the guest room upstairs. He’s slow, so slow, in fact, that you almost don’t see his movement but you know that he is when you feel his breath on your face. You know he’s there when his palm softly connects with your cheek. You know he’s there when he presses his forehead against yours. You missed his musky smell and you can’t help but press your lips against his.They’re familiar. One’s that you haven’t had the chance to remove from your memory. You didn’t really want to either.

Hands finding their way to Dean’s shoulders, you crawled into his lap, deepening the kiss. You wanted this, you wanted it from the moment you left three years ago but you pulled back. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that. You’re mad at me and I should have asked.”

You make a move to get off of his lap but he stops you. “Don’t stop. I’m not letting you go again. I’m not losing my family.”

FEEDBACK IS GOLD AND ALWAYS APPRECIATED

Forevers: @super100012​ @lupine-princess​ @plaid-lover-bay25​ @atc74​ @growningupgeek​ @sophiebobzz​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @poukothenerd​ @grace-for-sale​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @jesspfly​ @supernaturallymarvellous​ @sammysgirl1997​ @roxyspearing​ @mogaruke​ @be-amaziing​ @deanandsamsbitch​ @frankiea1998​ @hennessy0274-blog​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @iwantthedean​ @capsheadquaters​ @emoryhemsworth​ @notmoose45​ @essie1876​ @cassieraider​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @its-my-perky-nipples​ @riversong-sam​ @jotink78​ @captainradicalpassion​ @jadalecki-jackles​ @spnbaby-67​ @holyfuckloueh​ @gh0stgurl​ @alyssa6marie​ @esoltis280​ @bumber-car-s @alexwinchester23​ @x-waywardaf-x​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @randomparanoid​ @kellianz​

Dean: @kenmen02​ @ain-t-bovvered​ @deans-baby-momma​  @ericaprice2008​ @shamelesslydean​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @wingedcatninja​ @mayasmedberg​ @kurosaki224-new-blog @valerieshubin @milo-winchester-4ever​ @sandlee44​ @ruprecht0420​ @akshi8278​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @dslocum89​ @plaidstiel-wormstache​ @ria132love​ @welldonebeca​ @iamabeautifulperson18​ @starry-chaos @deans-treasure @larajadeschmidt13​  @nyxveracity​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​

[myinconnelly1]

Dancing the Spiral

Word count: 4K (this is the longest One-shot I've ever written)

Masterist of Everything

A/n: Written for @dontshootmespence ‘s 8k celebration! here is I for Insanity!!! If you scare easily this might not be the fic for you.  But i think it came out awesome.  I took a lot of inspiration from my time playing White wolf’s World of Darkness, and you might recognize some stuff from The Golden Knight.  Also big thanks to @donnaintx and @emilyshurley for being my sounding board, giving me ideas for the monsters and telling me to go to bed when it was late.

A/N 2: Also i put some breaks within the fic.  They don't mean anything other than this is a good pause place if your eyes hurt.

Warnings: graphic depictions violence/gore, themes of horror and insanity, SNAKES

Summary:  Kelsey has a disturbing Dream about herself and the Winchesters and now she has to try and understand it before it’s too late.

“How are you ss-sleeping, Kelsey?”  The doctor asked as he leaned back and looked at her studiously.  His lisp caused her obvious discomfort as she relived the vivid imagery of her nightmare.

“Not bad,”  Kelsey lied dropping her gaze to the floor as she avoided eye contact with the man.  She was new to this practice but wanted to give the doctor a chance.  In her opinion, it was not going well, but it could be going worse.  Any minute now he could turn into a snake man and she would snap her eyes open.  She had not slept in nearly a week and she had started hallucinating.  

“You’re not a very good liar.  You just said that you didn’t really like this practice but were going to give it a try.  So why don’t you tell me about what’ss bothering you.”  He licked his lips and pulled out a notepad.

Kelsey rolled her eyes.

“Sam I’ve been having this dream.  You’re in it, and so is your brother.”  She was pacing outside a motel.

“Come on, Kelsey, it sounds like you’re gonna start explaining a sex dream.”  Kelsey closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she fought with herself.  She heard a noise and jerked her head around, but nothing was there to see.  “Get a goddamn grip.  Plenty of people deal with insomnia and bad dreams.  They don’t go running to their new boyfriends trying to explain that the monsters might be real.”

“But most people also get some sleep despite those things.  They don’t stand around hearing and seeing shit that isn’t there.”  She muttered in argument.

“Yeah well they don’t talk to themselves either,”  She quibbled back.

“You okay?”  Sam asked as he stuck his head out of the motel room door.  “I saw you standing out here pacing and wasn’t sure if you were going to come in or not.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna come in.  I don’t think you were going to go in.  I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to bother Sam with this.”  Kelsey babbled until she realized that Sam was staring at her like she had a second head.  “Sorry, not sleeping.”  She gave a weak smile.

“No problem, we’ve all been there,”  Sam said.  “Dean and I were just doing some research for a job.”

“That sounds exciting,”  Kelsey said trying to contain her thoughts in her mouth. Dean gave her a quick smile and a wink as she came into the motel.  “What kind of job are the FBI working on in town?”  She had a serious case of Deja Vu and surreptitiously found a mirror to look at herself in.

“We’re looking into some suspicious missing person cases.  We’re not really sure what the connection is but we’re hopeful.  You okay?”  Sam asked.  

You caught yourself staring at the mirror and realized you had inadvertently picked out the outfit from your dream. You were muttering something and not listening to your boyfriend so quickly tried to recover.

“Missing persons, I haven’t heard about anyone.”  She was pretty out of the loop on missing persons working in the ER and things had been worse lately, but she figured she would have heard about at least one.

“We’ve been keeping it quiet,”  Dean said a little too quickly.  She looked at him oddly.

“Dean, if there is a connection between these people I don’t know what it is.”  Kelsey saw Sam say to Dean from his laptop.

“There has gotta be a connection.  Why are these people being targeted?”  Dean’s voice rumbled.  “Maybe they are looking for something, demons don’t just possess people for no reason.”

“I don’t think they are demons, Dean,”  Sam said.

Kelsey’s head was spinning.  She blinked rapidly trying to clear her mind of the hallucination.

“Kel, maybe you should sit down.”  Sam’s voice was like the surface of a still lake as Kelsey broke the surface for air.  She shook her head vigorously, fleeing the room.

“Kelsey, wait!”  Dean stood to try and catch her but she was off and gone.

“This is a creepy ass temple,”  Dean groaned looking at the abandoned building.  He didn’t want to be here and wasn’t sure if the souls of the people that had been brought here wanted to come either.

Kelsey sat up on the floor of her apartment gasping as the world spun.  She tried to count ten but kept losing focus.  She stood and went to the freezer and grabbed an ice cube.  The cold helped restart her train of thought and stir her from the brink of the abyss she felt like she was standing over.  Kelsey rubbed her arm scratching the imaginary bugs that she knew weren’t there.

She needed to go to the temple.  It was the only way she was going to figure this out.

“You mean if it is even real,” She sighed at herself.  She pulled out her phone and sent Sam a text apologizing for the way that she had rushed out.  She confirmed that she was in fact, really okay.  “Liar.”  

She packed a few items and left in search of where she thought the temple was.  Or at least where Dean thought the temple was, when she had hallucinated being him.  She was starting to no longer care how crazy it sounded.

“Kelsey?”  Sam asked as she realized she had been standing in front of the somewhat ruined temple.  “What are you doing here?”

“Um, listen this is gonna sound weird,”  She said

“Not any weirder than anything else you’ve done today,”  Dean muttered, but Sam elbowed him.

“No, it’s true.  I think.  I uh, had this weird dream about this temple and you guys and these snake monsters.  Anyway, I had to figure out what was going on.  But I haven’t been sleeping so I’m not sure what's real anymore.”  Kelsey continued to babble.

“Wait, snake monsters?”  Sam asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, they were snakes, but not quite.  And they had arms and claws.  And I think they can possess people, but I think that’s kinda crazy and I don’t feel so good.”  Kelsey curled up a little as her muscles cramped from the lack of sleep.

“No, it’s okay,”  Sam said wrapping his arms around the tired brunette.

“Sam,”  Dean’s voice sounded like a warning.

“No, she needs to know.  What you were dreaming about, it’s real.”  Sam said, pulling her close.

“It is?”  Kelsey whispered.  “I don’t know what’s worse, that those monsters are real or that you believe me.”  

“What do you mean?”  Dean asked.

“I’ve been hallucinating a lot,” Kelsey admitted.  “But I didn’t think that you guys would really believe me.”

“The missing people aren’t really missing.  It’s more like they’ve been possessed.”  Sam said.

“So then what is this creepy temple?”  Kelsey asked, pointing to the building that was falling apart.

“It’s an entrance to a supposedly creepy shadow world,”  Dean said.

“The Spiral,”  Kelsey said, shaking her head and rubbing her face.

“How did you know that?” Sam asked, looking at her as he and Dean pulled out shotguns.

“I’m not sure, but what are you going to do with those?”  She pointed at the guns.  “If they are spirits can you actually touch them?”

“The monsters are called Naag, and we are hoping that they are repelled by salt like other ghosts,”  Sam said as they loaded the firearms with the salt rounds.

                                                        ~~~~~

“We have to go through the door.  No matter what.”  Sam said as they approached the entrance of the temple.

“What happens if we don’t?”  Kelsey asked as she realized she was seriously underprepared.

“We don’t leave ever,”  Dean responded, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder.

“But we will, it’s gonna be okay, just stay close,”  Sam comforted.  The three of them walked into the temple, and all gasped as if they were being stabbed all over by icicles.

They panted as they tried to gain an understanding of their surroundings in the inky black.  Kelsey knew something about what they had done was wrong but she wasn’t sure what it was.  Their eyes adjusted slowly to the dimness until finally, they saw the temple in its full splendor all around them.

“Where the hell are we?”  Dean asked as he turned around slowly.

“The spiral,”  Sam answered.  “I think.”

“Yes,”  Kelsey suffered a momentary lapse of lucidity as her vision doubled with a view of splendid statues and Snake men.  “This was their entrance to protect.  This is the first circle.  We shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?”  Dean asked, lifting the shotgun again.

“Normally you enter the spiral in your sleep,”  Kelsey said,  “We walked in.”

“How do you know that?”  Sam asked, grabbing her forearm gently, to look at him.

“I’m not sure,”  Kelsey seemed to struggle to grasp the answer to the question.  “I think I dreamed about it.”

“More importantly, why does it matter that we were awake.”  Dean interrupted her thoughts.

“We’re here in the flesh.  We are in their world.  We have to play by their rules.  They can hurt us, and possess us.”

“That explains why the others were brought here, so they could be possessed,”  Sam said looking over her shoulder and said to Dean.  He released Kelsey’s arm.

“Yeah but for what purpose?”  Dean asked looking back at his brother.

“It’s a trap,”  Kelsey’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Sam, then bolted for the doorway they had just come through.

“Kel, that’s not gonna-”  He cut off as she leaped through the doorway and disappeared.  “Work…  huh, I guess she found the door, come on.”

Sam and Dean came through the door and found Kelsey covering her ears and screaming.

“What the hell?”  Dean asked as he and Sam went over to her.  She turned and scraped her nails across Dean’s face as she say him first.  “Fuck!”  He yelled as he backed up.

“Kelsey! Hey, it’s Sam.  Stop!”  He commanded as he tried to keep her hands at bay from attacking him.  “Find the door!”  Sam shouted over her screeching.

“There!”  Dean shouted as he saw the outline in the empty dark room.  The smaller dark-haired woman had finally gotten the upper hand on Sam, and Dean ran at her, throwing her over his shoulder toward the door with Sam right behind him. Dean kicked the darkness and the light flooded the dark, blinding them momentarily as they moved through the door.

“Where the hell are we now?”  Dean asked as he looked around the open field.

“Endurance?”  Sam threw out the word like Dean should know what it meant.  Kelsey squirmed in the older brother’s arms.

“Will you put me down please?”  She asked, sounding her normal calm self again.

“Are you going to scratch me again?”  Dean asked as he lowered her feet to the ground.

“I’m sorry,”  She said wringing the hem of her shirt.

“It’s healed, like it never happened,”  Sam said looking at Dean.

“What does endurance mean?”  Dean asked, ignoring his brother’s statement.  His face still stung even if the wound wasn’t there.

“It’s the third circle of the Spiral,”  Sam said.

“So what was that?”  Dean asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the now no longer there door.

“Rage,”  Kelsey said, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks.  “Sorry, it was like all the anger and frustration I’ve been holding on to without my sleep hit me like a tidal wave.”

“It’s okay,”  Sam said, knowing that this realm would bring out the worst in all of them.

“It’s not, but we don’t have time for that,”  Kelsey said.

“You know, not to kick a gift horse in the mouth but you seem much more together here,”  Dean said looking at Kelsey’s clear eyes.

“This place is madness,”  Kelsey said cryptically as she walked forward and down an almost limitless mountain.

“What the hell does that mean?”  Dean asked, throwing his hands up.

“Maybe everything is top-see turvy here, and because of that the world makes sense to her?”  Sam suggested taking off after her.

“Right,”  Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

The group walked for what seemed like hours.  They were tired and there was no end in sight to the landscape.  Let alone a door or entryway.

“Do you think we missed it?”  Sam asked concern crossing his face.  None of them wanted to get stuck here and face the corruption of their souls that awaited them.

“I don’t think so,”  Kelsey said as she did a slow circle to look around.

“If you say something cryptic and creepy, like the door will show up when we least expect it, I’ll-”  Dean was interrupted and they all cried out in surprise as the ground literally fell out from beneath them.

                                                     ~~~~~

“Well that hurt,”  Kelsey groaned before looking around.  “Sam?  Dean?!”  She cried out the names of the brothers looking for them frantically, before the chilling reality that she was alone struck her.

“All alone?”  A voice called from the shadows of the temple.  Her fall from the previous circle had brought her back inside.

“Who’s there?”  She whimpered, as she started to walk through archways toward the voice.

“Sssomeone who knowss who you are,”  the voice seemed to mock her.  It stayed hidden in the shadow, but she assumed it belonged to one of the Naag, who resided and protected this part of the Spiral.  It continued to hide away from where she could see.

“My master is looking for sssomeone like you.  What is your name, foolish one?”

“I thought you knew who I was?”  She chided.

“Sslip of the forked tongue.  I know what you are.”  The masculine voice corrected itself.

“I’m a person,”  She said the sliver of doubt caused by her dream cracking back open.

“With a dead-end job, who wonders where they should truly be in the world.  You are kind to people because they aren’t kind to you.  But you have never felt like you really belong.”  He sounded almost clinical in his appraisal of her.  And it stung her just how close to the mark he had fallen.

“How do you know so much about me?”  She asked as a tingling feeling had started to spread throughout her body starting at her toes and fingers.  Her skin was becoming ethereal like she was fading out.

“We’ve been watching you.  You have much doubt.  This ss-circle is not for those who don’t believe in themselvesss.”  He hissed a laugh.

“If you’ve been watching me, then you’ve been waiting for me.  Why?  Unless you knew I was coming here.  But even I didn’t know I was coming here?”  Kelsey was thinking in circles and stalling out.  Her fear and exhaustion were starting to get to her as she continued to fade from her own few.

“Pleassse, Psssychic.  You always knew this is the road you were going to take.  Ever ssince you had that dream,”  He spoke with a villainous laugh. Kelsey’s body was disappearing rapidly now as her doubt about her entire life ate her away.

“Psychic?” She whispered.

“Now, I will claim you as mine,”  The Naag was suddenly in front of her.  A hideously deformed beast that stood well over eight feet tall.  It was haunched back on a thick tail and a cobra-like hood flared around its fanged head.  Two meaty arms protruded from its sides with long menacing claws.  Something grabbed Kelsey’s invisible arm and tugged her roughly.

“Sam?!”  She cried as she flung herself around the tall man.

“I saw you first, but don’t thank me or anything,”  She heard Dean mumble.

“What happened?”  She asked, looking at the two men.

“We were separated from each other, but thankfully after walking through some of the interior structures, we walked through the door by accident.  I don’t know what caused us to become visible to each other,”  Sam explained, giving Dean a significant look.  Kelsey would ask him about that later.  Then she remembered what the Naag had said to her.

A Psychic, that meant that she knew what was going to happen here.  A sinking feeling of dread fell like a rock in the pit of her stomach.  

“Don’t let the Naag bite you,”  She said realizing that her moment of silence might have seemed suspicious.  “I saw one right before you grabbed me.”

“We haven’t seen anything,”  Dean said, looking around with his shotgun lifted again.  The agitation and fear of the men was palpable.

“And they never will,”  A serpentine voice hissed in her ear.  She spun around to see the Naag from the previous circle towering over her and Sam.

“RUN!”  She screamed. Other Naags were audible in the distance as Sam and Dean didn’t ask questions and took off away from where the spirit was.

“There!”  Dean called pointing his gun to the side.  “There is the door.”  The temple was starting to collapse around them.  Heavy stone blocks falling all over.

“Kelsey, come on!”  Sam called urging the girl to run faster.  She cut the corner, dodging falling rubble just in time to see the Naag from before collide into Dean’s back.  He howled in pain, the large body of the Naag fell from her view as the door and the other Naag closed in on them.  Another smaller Naag latched onto Sam, just as Kelsey caught up to them.

They crashed through the doorway with the two Naags clawing for purchase on their skin.

“That was anticlimactic,” Kelsey groaned as the scenery had not changed between circles of the Spiral.  “Be on the lookout!“

Kelsey grabbed the monster on Sam by an unidentifiable appendage and yanked, tugging it off of his back before it had time to bite him and claim him for itself.

“Find the door, I’ll get Dean.  This is the last circle, so watch for the betrayal.” She was turning away and found the older Winchester staring at her.  The look in his eye was murderous and she felt the air leave her chest as his arm struck her middle and sent her flying across the width of the large temple hallway.  

“Guess you found it,”  She muttered to herself weakly.  She blinked repeatedly and shook her head to clear it, before clambering awkwardly off the ground.  Dean was charging toward her and she sidestepped in time for him to slam into the wall and fall in a crumple.  

She couldn’t see the Naag anywhere but knew that something had happened between Dean and it.  She invoked her second sight, a thing she hadn’t realized she could do and saw the misshapen atrocity that was coiling itself around Dean’s essence.  She sighed, knowing that this would be the one time Dean would be happy to know that the scars of his life were working for him as the Naag struggled to fit itself into all the grooves.  She reached for the bite mark that marred the back of his shoulder-blade and worked her first two fingers into the infernal wound.  

Dean howled in pain, as Kelsey’s fingers dug under his skin trying to reach the end of the Naag’s ethereal tail.  Sam’s gun fired behind her but all she could do was hope that the rock salt affected the Naag, as she couldn’t let herself be distracted at this crucial moment.  She exclaimed as she hooked her finger on the spirit then stood, ripping it from its almost settled location within Dean’s essence.  Dean crumpled to the ground as the bite on his back healed like it never existed.

Kelsey flung the Naag spirit against the opposing wall and pulled Dean up from the ground.

“I found the door!”  Sam shouted as he ran to join them and take Dean’s weight from her.

“Let’s go, we can’t waste anymore time,”  Kelsey urged the brothers in front of her so she could keep an eye out for the other Naags she knew were close behind and Sam and Dean started to sprint for the door.  She smiled to herself knowing they were within spitting distance as the door came into view.

Something snapped around Kelsey’s ankle and she gasped as the ground met her face rapidly.

“Pessssky little bitch,”  the atrocious snake-man hissed as it pulled itself against her chest.  “I liked him, but if you wanted me so badly,”  It coiled its tail around her leg as if to cuddle itself close to her warm body.  “All you had to do was say so.”

Kelsey uttered a blood-curdling shriek of pain as the millions of tiny dagger-like teeth sunk into her collarbone.

“Kelsey!”  Sam cried as he heard her and turned to see the spirit disappear.  He shoved Dean through the door and ran back over to her as her body started to convulse and bubbles formed around her slightly purple lips. “Shit,”  Sam cursed as he worked to get his hand under her head to keep her from choking.  The light behind the door was fading and unknown to Sam, more Naags were starting to come into the hallway.

Kelsey gasped and then sputtered like she had been drowning.  Her eyes snapped open as she steadied herself.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,”  Sam said standing her up and supporting her around the waist.

“You have to go,”  She croaked as he half dragged her.

“I’m not gonna leave you,”  Sam said firmly.  They stepped through the door together, as claws from one of the Naags raked along Sam’s arm and grabbed Kelsey around the waist to try to pull her back through the door.

“Sam!”  she screamed his name, terror was written on her face.

“Dean!”  Sam shouted as he turned trying to get a better grip on the brunette.  Dean came around to grab her as well and their combined strength was enough to balance out the strength of the Naag.

“Ssshhhhe’ss mine,”  Kelsey gagged on the hiss as the Naag used her voice to speak.

“No,” Sam argued.

“Go on, Psssychic,”  The spirit struggled with the word.  “Tell them what you saw in your dream.  Tell them how you knew this would happen and you came anyway.”  Tears fell from Kelsey’s eyes as Sam’s face contorted with pain.  She had known she wouldn’t make it, and she had come to save them anyway.

“I’m not going to let you die,”  Sam grunted as he pulled doubly hard.  A joint popped loudly in Kelsey’s arm.

“We’re not winning,”  Dean growled lowly.

“Ssssshhe won’t die with me.”  The Naag hissed like a dark soothing balm.  Kelsey seemed to battle with herself momentarily as the claws around her waist pierced her flesh.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,”  Dean tried to bolster his brother.

Kelsey’s body went limp suddenly and the brothers were pulled close to her face.  Dean let go with the limited space of the doorway,  and Kelsey grabbed Sam’s face with her free hand to kiss him deeply.

“Thank you,”  She whispered against his stun-slack lips.  “I will find you.”

She twisted her arm around, breaking his hold on her forearm and was pulled back through the door.

“And that’s where I wake up,”  Kelsey finished her recount to the therapist who made little notes in his book.  “If I’m honest, I’m tired.  I haven’t dreamed since then.  I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Interesting,”  The man muttered as he moved to put his notepad down.  He stood, and something in his eyes caught Kelsey’s attention.

“Doc, you okay?”  She asked fear causing her voice to shake.  She was trying to be subtle in the way she scooted down the couch toward the door.  “Doc?”

“He’sss long gone.  But don’t worry, I think you’ve been looking for me,”  His face contorted horrifically and she screamed as the door to the office slammed open.  Sam and Dean rushed in weapons drawn, and their faces reflected her disgust at the evil spirit from her nightmare.

@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @tabrown2021 @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666 @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278 @mannls @wendibird @bobasheebaby @flamencodiva @theoneandonlymelol @chelsea072498 @donnaintx @justsomedreaming @supernaturalenchanted @kalesrebellion @prettydeaneyes @emoryhemsworth @yourdommelb @idreamofplaid

[psyleedee]

Sweet, Spice and Everything Not Nice.

(Inspired by the iconic™ hot chilli Jen/Danneel/Misha moment but Destiel).

dean/castiel, secret relationship, accidental coming out, crack, humor, implied blowjobs, poor sammy.

-2k words.

-psyleedee.

There's a new diner opened up just a mile away from the Bunker, and already, Dean has heard so much about it. Last Tuesday, when he went for a milk run and stumbled into Ms. Davey, she was strangely keen about the new chilli poppers the diner was serving. Dean had smiled and brushed her off with a sure, I'll try it out, and he'd gone his way. Come Thursday, he'd stumbled into Chris, the local pawn shop owner, and they'd fallen into easy conversation, before Chris had spoken up about the diner. Said they had the best damn chilli poppers he'd ever seen. Dean didn't need anymore convincing.

Turns out Sam did.

And after weeks of goading Sam and riling him up to the point where he slammed a fist on the table and said Jesus Christ, Dean, you say the word chilli poppers again and I'll shove one right up your ass, Dean had succeeded. So what if it meant his dignity had crumbled to ash? At least he'd get to eat some good, greasy food, the one he's been craving for so long.

Besides, he oughta' take Cas out on a date too.

Ever since they ended up drunk in bed one long, fateful night ago, things have been slightly different between the two of them. For starters, they smile at each other a lot. Even when they're not looking at each other in tandem. They always end up on the same side of the couch or the dining table, thighs pressed together, hands brushing. They argue a lot, over the most mundane things, like washing the dishes or doing the laundry, but sometimes, after a hunt, when Dean is gushing blood, there will be this one broken glint in Castiel's eyes when he tries to heal him. And that night, they'll make slow, gentle love in Dean's car, away from the rest of the world.

However, there's a slight catch.

Sam doesn't know. He knows nothing. At least Dean hopes so.

And hey, not like they're trying to hide stuff from Sam, 'cause come on, they're practically breathing up each other's neck with only the three of them in the bunker, but it's just that Dean has a specific plan in his mind.

A plan about coming out to his brother. And it'll be heartfelt, of course, 'cause this is not just him establishing his relationship with Castiel, but also him coming out as bisexual. Sure, forty's a little late to figure out your sexuality, but better late than never, yeah?

So that's how it goes.

Maybe they can have a nice, brotherly chat over beer and chilli poppers.

"So, here we are. At last," Castiel says, as they stand against the Impala, all three of them, studying the creaky wooden sign which reads: Donny's Diner– home to the famous Habanero Chilli Poppers.

Okay. They're at the right place then.

"Habanero? Is that like, hotter than jalapeños or somethin'?"

Dean asks, as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his jacket, and glances at his brother.

"I don't know," Sam says, so Dean turns to Cas, who almost passes as a rugged, buff lumberjack with the way Dean's flannel and AC/DC shirt hug his chest. He has his arms folded across him, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes as he studies the diner.

"I was too busy leading armies in Heaven to really pay attention to the chillies on earth."

"God," Dean sighs, exasperated, "-just say no."

Castiel's lips twitch in the slightest of amusement, and Dean hates the smug look spread across Castiel's face.

Okay, fine, he loves it.

Whatever.

"Let's go eat some fucking chilli poppers," Sam sighs, and Dean, ever ready, follows behind him. Castiel joins them, and all three men enter the diner, which in truth, is a normal, rustic style place. The tables are wooden, the chairs quite simple, a single order station at the front, and a few women, dressed in black shirts and jeans, running around with trays in their hands. It seems casual and laid-back, just the way Dean likes a diner to be, and at once, he quirks his bottom lip, already impressed by the minimal decor and the light chatter in the diner.

"Hi!"

Both Cas and Dean jump a little at the loud, enthusiastic, squeaky voice from in front of them, and standing before them is a young, short woman, with a pixie cut and cute, black-rimmed glasses on her nose. She reminds Dean of a high schooler. Maybe she is.

"Erm, hey."

"I'm Dana, and I'll be your server today. Follow me please, I'll grab you guys a seat."

Dean smiles at her, and the trio follows her along to a booth at the corner of the room. Sam slides in one side, while Castiel and Dean slip in across him. Dana allows them to settle for a moment before piping up again. Seriously this girl has got some real hard enthusiasm for a waitress.

"So, do you guys have anything in mind already? Since a lot of people come in here for the poppers, but if you want, I can get you the menu."

Dean shares a look with Sam. Dean shares a look with Cas.

We'll have the poppers. Oh, and uh, Dana, are the poppers uh, spicy? Like, reeealll spicy? Or spicy spicy?"

Dana chuckles, and shrugs.

"On a scale of one to ten, I'd say a solid eight. But you don't need to try them if you don't want to. We have normal jalapeño poppers. Those aren't as spicy."

"We'll have the really spicy ones, since Dean has been so insistent about them," Castiel says, and the waitress nods. He turns to Dean with a challenging spark in his eyes, "-or are you scared, Dean? I mean, you haven't been known to be quite tolerant towards chillies."

"Shaddup," Dean grumbles, and watches as Sam sends him a silly look, before turning to the waitress.

"The habanero poppers, please."

Sam smiles, and the waitress walks away with a brief nod.

Dean turns back to Sam, who fixes him a dry glare, before turning to Cas.

"Alright, I'm gonna' go use the restroom for a minute," He says, and glances at Dean, after which he proceeds to slide out of the booth and walk away.

Alone at last.

Dean shifts his weight onto a single thigh and turns in his seat to face Castiel. Castiel looks at him with a soft, tender expression, before reaching out to twine their fingers together.

"Are you happy, Dean?"

"'Course I am, Cas. Are you?"

"With you I always am."

"Sap."

"I prefer the term honest."

A smile spreads across both of their faces, before Dean leans in, and presses his lips to Castiel's, who melts at once, giving in to Dean, hands grazing Dean's jaw as they kiss, tender, longing, passionate, hot... Okay too hot, abort, abort.

Dean clears his throat and backs away, glancing around the diner to find a few curious pair of eyes on them, and he sends each one a glare, linking his arm around Castiel's back to show them what's theirs. Castiel shakes bis head with a hopeless smile, and steals a peck off Dean's lips, just in time, since Sam returns not a moment later.

Dean jerks his hand away. Castiel seems a bit hurt.

"So, what'd I miss?"

"Nothing," Castiel scoffs, and looks away, setting his chin on his fists on the table.

Sam looks between Dean and Castiel, and as much as Dean hates the way Sam is suspicious, he doesn't say much.

Patience, Sammy, patience. Dean's going to come out soon. He promises. Or something.

Dana returns just in time to soothe the rising tension at the table, and at once, the prominent scent of spices, oil, and chilli wafts around them, tickling Dean's nostrils in the best of ways, and he follows his nose to find a steaming, hot plate of sizzling habanero poppers held in Dana's hand. There's almost eight to nine poppers on the plate, and each one looks downright delectable.

"Alright, I would advise you to grab yourself some water, because these can be very spicy, and we don't want another paramedic in this diner."

"You have a paramedic in this diner?"

Dean asks, incredulous as he stares at the plate of poppers.

Dana laughs. "Uh-huh, over there, that's Kenny, he's the medic."

"Woah."

Castiel sighs, and watches as the waitress sets the tray down before them.

"Anything else I can get you? Besides a huge jug of water?"

Dana smirks, and all three men gulp at once, eyes fixed to the plate of poppers.

Man up, Winchester.

"Nothing, honey."

Dean smiles, and Dana returns it before walking away.

Now.

The poppers.

Before Dean can even speak, both Sam and Castiel are swiping their hands at one, holding it up and staring down at it.

"Guys, I don't think that's it's a good idea to–"

Gone. The poppers are gone. The ones in Sam's and Castiel's hand? Gone. In their mouths.

Dean stares, wide eyed, awestruck, torn between looking at Sam and Castiel, but then–

"Oh my god," Castiel gasps, mouth stuffed full, chewing on the popper, and Dean watches as his fists clench on the table.

Yup. Dean is not touching those poppers with a ten-foot pole.

"Jesus," Sam mutters, and holy shit, the guy's actually red, and fuck, so is Cas, they're literally burning red at the cheeks and the nose, and Sam's drooling, wiping his nose, there's tears at his eyes, Castiel is swatting the table, groaning, tears streaming down his face as he chews on the popper–

This is a fuckfest.

"Dude, what's happening?"

Dean yelps, shrinking away from his brother and boyfriend, as they pant, gasp and cry.

"Hot, hot, hot– too hot," Sam cries out, and Dean almost feels bad for the bugger. Serves them for being impatient.

"Dean, oh my god, argh, hot, hot, this is the hottest thing I've ever put in my mouth?!"

Castiel screams out, banging his fist on the table, and yes, Dean knows the time isn't right, but obviously Castiel has had hotter things in his mouth before, and those things are sitting right next to him, so how dare he.

"Excuse me?" Dean scoffs, to which Castiel sends him a dry, enraged glare.

"Food, Dean! Food."

Castiel squawks, and slaps the table, but a loud, deafening yelp catches both of their attention.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

Sam bellows, and oh. Oops.

"I don't wanna' listen to you talk about your sex life when I'm literally dying?! Dean, what the fuck are you sitting for, ask for some water?!"

Wow. This Sam is... Not nice.

Dean falters, trapped between two impatient, burning, overreacting men, and he rises up from his seat, watching as Dana scurries towards them with a water jug, but she doesn't even have a moment to react before Castiel is snatching it out of her hands and oh, oh god.

Castiel holds the jug above his face, and Dean jumps away from the table as the water gushes out, pouring into his mouth, over his shirt, everywhere, and before Castiel can even quench his thirst, Sam is grabbing the jug, pouring it over his face just like Castiel, the water drizzling every where, and a horrified, stricken Dean simply glances up at Dana, who seems... Strangely calm.

"Oh, it's more common than you think. I'm used to it," She says, and Dean wonders vaguely, if they're paying her enough for this, before providing help in the most menial form ever, by tossing his handkerchief to Castiel.

"You, Dean, are not getting away with this. You're the reason we almost died?!"

He growls, and yanks Dean onto the chair.

"Dude, I didn't ask you to pop it into your mouth literally a second after it came out."

Dean yells, shrugging away in defense, when a loud gasp draws their attention to Sam.

"You guys are fucking each other?"

Oh. Uhm. Cat's out.

"Yes, we're fucking each other, Sam, now could you pass that jug over here?"

Dean stares at the two of them, completely normal, going about passing the between the two of them.

That was... Not how he planned on coming out. Nope.

"Yeah, uh, Sam, Cas and I are dating. And uhm, I'm bi."

Sam shrugs, and holds the jug above his face, when it seems to click him.

"Wait. Was I not supposed to know that?"

Dean rolls his eyes.

"No, you weren't. How'd you know?"

Sam laughs.

"I don't know, maybe the oh my god, faster Dean, or the oh, you feel so good, coming from your room each night might have something do with it."

Dean blushes. Hard. Too hard. Castiel doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered. I mean, well, save for the water he's practically guzzling down.

"Whatever."

Dean grunts, and slides back in next to Castiel, who pushes the jug away, and slumps back against the booth.

Silence follows both Sam and Castiel's heavy pants.

Only for Castiel to grin again.

"That was awesome, I'm trying another."

[softboyscully]

Well, It’s Just a Second Degree Burn

Hauntober, day three: tea! i was so excited to write this i almost started it the day before. among my many aesthetics is autumn and guiehugirhgyaifuogykdhajv but i love writing autumn stuff😍😄🎃 

no medical knowledge was used in this fic. this is all purely for softness.

TW: quick and not serious mention of r*pist(s), few playful mentions of k*dnapping/ers

~

Dean walked quickly through the brisk autumn air, dodging people left and right as he tried to make it to work on time.

Not-too-surprisingly, Baby had a lot more wrong with her than just a flat tire. He’d done most of the work over the weekend, but he didn’t want to take her back out until he was sure she’d be okay.

And so here he was, carless, too much of a germaphobe to get on public transport and too proud to tell his boss he might be late.

He huffed a sigh. Can’t have it both ways, Dean, Sam’s voice echoed in his brain.

Fuck that. If he had to run, he would do it. Or at least he’d fast-walk.

Slam.

“Oof,” a dark-haired man in a trench coat (who the fuck wears a trench coat? other than kidnappers, of course) exclaimed, stumbling backwards and spilling whatever was in his cup all over Dean.

He felt... really cold, actually. Had that guy been drinking ice water? Bec--

“HOLY FUCK,” Dean yelled. What the shit was that?

Because it was Boston, nobody turned to look except a disapproving glance from a mother of three, a look that quickly turned to sympathy as she saw the hot tea spilled all over his body.

“Son of a bitch, watch where you’re goin’, man!” he said to the kidnapper guy.

“Watch where I’m going?” Kidnapper Guy repeated indignantly. “You’re the one who walked into me!”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who had the hot tea!”

They both paused. 

Kidnapper guy laughed. “A nice poetry pair, we make.”

Dean smiled and shrugged. “Guess so.”

“My name is Castiel,” the man said, reaching out his hand.

“My name’s D--”

“Oh my god, the tea! God, I make it so hot, you must’ve gotten burned, I am so sorry, come on, I can--”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Dean responded, a bit uncomfortable. This was the kind of thing you weren’t supposed to do. He seemed like a good guy, but he could reasonably be an actual kidnapper, drawing his victims in with kindness after he spilled his tea on them.

Or maybe Dean just watched too much crime drama.

“No you’re not, your body is just tuning it out, god, I’m so stupid, come on,” Castiel responds, tugging Dean in the direction of a store with the name “Books and Bees”. Dean wondered if Castiel knew what that sounded like.

The bell above the door rang as the walked in, and Castiel said, “God, here, uh, can’t pour cold water on your whole body, right? Well--”

“Listen, dude, thank you, really I’m touched, but I gotta go to work, so--”

“Right, of cour--Wait, you could have second degree burns, can’t you just call in sick?” 

He had blue eyes, Dean realized. Bluer than the fucking sky. They were beautiful, and sparkling.

“Uh, yeah. I guess,” Dean heard himself say. Damn it. He really shouldn’t be held accounted for the state of mind he was in around beautiful men.

“Great. Ice is a no, so... can you take your shirt off? There’s a sink in the back, I could wet a towel and rub your chest, I guess. Yeah, that could work.”

Dean would probably never recover from this man telling him to take his shirt off (much less say he was going to rub his chest), but oh well. Sanity was a small price to pay. He pulled his shirt off, while Castiel went to the back to get a wet towel.

There was a vague voice in the back of his mind that this man could be a rapist, but he decided he could probably take him in a fight if the need arose.

The bell above the door rang.

“Castiel, I’m here, what should I--” the redhead who’d just walked in stopped. “Oh. What. Oh! If you too are busy, I can leave--”

“No!” Dean exclaimed, realizing what it looked like. “I just--”

“I spilled my tea on him, Charlie,” Castiel explained, walking back in.

“Ouch,” Charlie said, wincing in sympathy.

“Yeah,” Dean responded dumbly.

“Well, you two can... do your thing,” Charlie said, slowly backing out of the store. “Dorothy actually wanted me to hang out with her today, since she and her friends are going to the apple picking farm today, so. Goodbye.” She hopped happily down the street, not even bothering to contain her grin. 

Castiel gave a sigh that spoke of long-suffering.

“Sorry about Charlie, she means well,” he said, gently placing the cold washcloth against Dean’s skin. 

He simultaneously felt a stabbing pain--well, everywhere--and a rush of relief. On one hand, his body was only just processing how much it’d been hurt; on the other hand, the cold felt insanely good.

“Thank you,” Dean said abruptly.

“For what? Spilling boiling water on you?” Castiel joked, smiling.

“No, for, uh, helping me afterwards. Most people would just apologize and be on their way.”

“I feel like I’m supposed to say that I’m not like most people, but I also believe that would make me sound like a dick, so.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah. Yeah, it would.”

They rested in comfortable silence for a minute, until Dean said, “I never told you my name. It’s Dean. Winchester. Dean Winchester. I like the name Castiel, but it’s kind of a mouthful, so I think I’m just gonna call you Cas.”

Cas laughed. “Bold. I like it.”

“Uh, thanks,” Dean said, blushing.

“I like the name Dean, too.”

“It was my mom’s idea. My father wanted to name me Mini-Me, but he was drunk off his ass and my mom didn’t want my name to be an Austin Powers reference.”

“I bet that must’ve blindsided you when you found out all the family secrets.”

“Yeah, well, I also learned my father was on the FBI’s most wanted list, so.”

Cas laughed loudly. “When I was ten, my older brother Gabriel got upset at Thanksgiving and had an argument with my father about how it was a holiday founded on terrible grounds. America did kill many Native Americans, after all, and took all their land.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Well, in an attempt to shut him up, my mother disclosed how she had knowingly been in contact with a murderer. Why she thought that would work, I will never understand.”

“...Dude, your family is terrifying.”

“Definitely understood.”

They both laughed. They seemed to be doing a lot of that.

“Well, that’s probably all I can do for now,” Cas tutted. “Sorry again. You should probably schedule a doctors appointment, just in case.”

Dean was unsurprised to feel himself deflating at having to leave. “This might be a little forward,” he said, “and you can definitely say no, but could I get your number?”

Cas beamed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He scribbled a phone number--god, Dean hoped it was actually his--down on the back of a business card. 

“Oh, your shirt--” Cas looked down at the ruined piece of clothing. “I’m so sorry. Here, I’m sure I have a spare around here somewhere...”

Dean walked out of Books and Bees smiling and whistling, only good things in his mind and a new shirt that he would probably never give back.

And some pretty angry burns, but oh well.

~

:D :D :D :D :D

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 4X20 the Rapture

well that's promising

also requested to follow a lot of school people today wheeee

this really has become like my diary huh

awww the iconic fishing shot

IT'S DEAN'S DREAM AW

Cas? Injured?

JIMMY NOVAK!!

It sounds Nothing like him, that's WILD

I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW HE FEELS SO DIFFERENTLY AS A CHARACTER

H O W

Dean's grumpy about it aw

He's so Strict, Jimmy? please be less?

lmao his HAIRCUT

Castiel there have GOT to be better ways to say hello

lmao "What do you mean I Can't go home"

HE'S SO SHORT COMPARED TO THEM

THE FLOOF HAIR

oho but without the trench-coat because you see the symbolis-

STICK YOUR HAND IN THE SOUP JIMMY

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS HE MAKING IT LOOKS LIKE BOILING TAR

look test of faith I get it bUT STILL

Anna just fucking showing up was HILARIOUS

awww Claire

man I can't wait till she becomes a recurring character

HE WAS SO SCRAWNY

"it's god's will" WELL WHEN GOD'S A DICK-

Jimmy ur an ass, calm down with the god thing

Oh it's called the rapture because he ascends

ooo you could tell it was Otherwordly Cas

Also the little head tilt! I love the head tilt!

ah psych clinic, pretty decent lie

"it's all over now" oh it very much isn't

this feels like a "pLEASE GET CASTIEL OUT OF HERE WE DON'T WANT HIM HERE"

at least being ridden around by an angel has gotten him to be less of an ass

Ah and Sam's in withdrawal FunFUn

aww goddammit him with Claire is really cute

HE DOESN'T SAY GRACE LMAO

listen when you get possessed with grace it's just kinda fucking up your view of religion

INSTANT ATTACK

Boy poor Amelia

look OBVIOUSLY SHE WON'T BELIEVE YOU

heh aww family punchy time

why the fuck don't they exorcise them

you're NevEr gOinG bAcK

Sam you're not helping what the fuck

boy he looks Exhausted

I love the "hey we shouldn't split up" "nah babe gotta go be manly"

STOP ADOPTING SAM'S IDEOLOGY! IT'S A BAD IDEOLOGY!

Dean's taking this well

Shit

SHITWAIT YOULEFT CLAIRE WITH A DEMON

heyyy Dean's hair is fluffier

I mean...hey yell at the angel that's going great

he do be wearing the trench coat now tho I wonder if it me-

hey why cut to dean like that wh

heh Claire is Castiel, at least for now

SAM WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU FUCKERS TRY EXORCISING THE DEMON OUT OF CLAIRE'S MO MFIRST??

oh

ok then

at least Cas isn't that big of a dick

Hey he saves his daughter!

THAT WAS A COOL SHOT OF CLAIRE THO

nah jimmy dies eventually just give it a hot min

"And I certainly don't serve you" oh they lobotomized him again didn't they

ahaha let him Stew

THEY FUCKING LOCK HIM IN THE PANIC ROOM AHAAHAH

hey the "soon" is...ominous

ok uh wrap up

1. Misha's a good actor. Like I spent the entire time going HOW THE F U C K Is he different than cas? Like it's not just the voice, its' the affect, the trench coat.! WH AT

2. Dean be very very sad for some reason. Like they keep fuckign cutting to him when stuff happens. And I get this is like...he's tired of fighting for his life but it also reads as. Clear concern for Cas. God I love Cas.

3. jesus christ Sam. Very clear addiction problem. Man I wonder what happens next

4. boy women rly do get shafted in this series. I knew this, but lmao just like..Mom or Kid. Wow.

5. THEY KEEP LOBOTOMIZING HIM. And the fact that he's not as big of a dick as the other angels! and the "rapture"(humans ascending+Jimmy would never come back!)

also worth noting, pre-possession Jimmy was an Asshole. He felt like That type of religious dude. Post-possession? way more chill. Way more chill

And Jimmy doomed his entire family. Like yeah, technically it was Castiel. but Jimmy was cuckoo banana pants enough to go along with it and get mixed up in the Angels talking to him. bro. Bro just calm down.

Boy maybe one of you should get emotional maturity first jesus christ, having a bunch of Men do shit is just causing all the problems.

[tomishaped]

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters

• Chapter One •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “You really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.

Izzy did manage to force himself to relax once they were in the car, though Dean still happened to look tense with the way he was looking out his mirrors for someone. Honestly, it probably helped the demon to relax with the fact that Izrael couldn't feel Dagon as close anymore. She was either losing interest or losing track of them for now, either way that worked for him. "Huh?" He was honestly confused at first when Dean said that, "Why would you think I pissed some- oh! Because of all that? Right. Yeah. They don't seem to fond of me, do they? I should probably stop crashing into their parties like that." 

Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now, and he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."

Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “To be honest, I was out looking for a good time… guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw your moves back there but… twenty to one is a bit much,”  he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful side look. 

This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."

Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell - literal Hell. So what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them. “I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” Dean trailed off a little as he drove, “could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”

Izrael smiled at the hunter. "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."

Dean grinned. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. Names Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one, they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket, sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”

His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to change anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar - very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned. 

Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the other’s hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year old’s memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… so you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."

With both hands back on the wheel, Dean snorted when Izzy said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Fair, I mean we did just meet and I also just saved your ass from a fucking gaggle of demons, but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t know each other, and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise, imma damn puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” he said,.  Ane yes, he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn-dog habits aside, he wouldn’t rest well if he did. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again, I know bunker can be off putting, but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”

Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So, right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing. 

Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters in general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to him spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him. 

Izrael couldn't remember his own torture. He actually had no idea it even happened. Ever since the day Asmodues found his newly turned demon in that cage he kept his pet in, the youngest prince acted as though that was the first day of Izzy's life. He didn't even know that he was in that cage because of that man in the first place. "I'm not afraid of you, Dean, even though I'm pretty damn sure you're no puppy dog," Izzy told him with a little roll of his eyes, the man who had spent his last few years in hell torturing other souls was far from a puppy. But he had caught Izzy's attention mentioning the Men of Letters. He vaguely remembered Asmodues mentioning them decades ago. Something about them being all dead now… about them holding knowledge no one else had. Going to this bunker… could prove useful if the knowledge thing was true.

Izzy finally looked over at Dean again, tucking hair behind his ears, "Well whiskey is always a very good and tempting offer," he said, chewing on his lip a little as he thought it over. "If you're all armed like you say you are… Do you also have books and shit? Like, books on demons and shit." Izzy knew he had been turned differently than almost every other demon that existed, he had to have been to have his own body and no ability whatsoever to jump from one meatsuit to the next, but he had no idea what happened to make him this way. And no book he had found since being set loose on the world had been able to give him the answer he was looking for. If this bunker had hidden knowledge it might be his best bet to find out how he turned, because Asmodues wasn't telling him anytime soon. "And I really wouldn't have to just stay if I don't want to. I can just walk out? Seriously?"

Dean just grinned when the other said he was pretty sure he wasn’t a puppy, calling him out like that. And he believed them when they said that they weren’t scared of him, he did find her in the middle of a demon infested alleyway in the middle of the night. His grin grew when Izzy seemed to be mulling the thought over. He raised an eyebrow and chanced a longer glance at the other when he was asked about books. That he hadn’t been expecting, didn’t peg her for a book type. There might be something they were looking for specifically that the old bats had locked away. He would definitely be doing an inventory check but hey it sounded like they were coming around to the idea. A new face and alone time might do him some good, even if they don't get handsy and this Izzy turned out to be a gigantic book worm. 

“Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I gotta warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything, alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now. 

Izzy shrugged when he mentioned cell service, that meant pretty much nothing to him. Of course he knew what a cell phone was, he had been in this world long enough. But he never felt the need to get one. Who the hell was he gonna call? "No big deal, no cell phone. I was serious, I've never worked with someone else before. Never felt the need to get one," he shrugged, as little like it was normal or something to not have a cell this day and age. He honestly didn't actually know either way though. "And I don't plan on taking anything. I've got my own weapons and shit. Just… looking for a little info is all. If you happen to have a book with what I want to know, well, then I won't really need it anymore once I read it." He ignored the Bat Cave comment for the moment, not wanting to let the hunter next to him realize he actually understood the reference. He especially didn't want him to know he found it amusing.

Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Wanna tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.

He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew. 

Izzy was a bit unsure following Dean into the bunker when they got there. This could be a really, really stupid idea. But on the other hand… he was going to have info on the Winchester's no one else could possibly dream of having and he might get a few other answers out of this as well so he followed along. He looked around as Dean led him through the place, tilting his head and letting a confused little look cross his face as he tilted his head back to see the ceiling, "Uh, sure, if you want. So, do you keep the bats in some special room or something? I kinda just pictured them all over the place."

Her not havung a phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did because even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables. 

If Izrael actually cared much about completely blending in when he was going by Izzy he probably would have gotten a cell phone. But truth be told, he didn't actually care what humans thought about him and despite Asmodues having insisted he play the part on earth he could probably count on one hand how many times he had ever used the name Izzy before. Since he usually avoided hunters he rarely ever felt the need too. So really… What was the point of carrying around a little electronic box used to call people? The only person who would ever actually want to get ahold of him had his own ways of doing so. But even Asmodues left Izzy to himself for the most part nowadays as long as he kept doing what he was told and continued to work his damnedest to keep Lucifer in his box. Though if he had realized how odd it actually was to not have one, he wouldn't have mentioned it. 

Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, he had a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them. 

Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yeah no, that's more my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it.” Dean poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The other’s wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.

Izzy was glad his back was to the hunter when he mentioned his brother so he didn't see the little demon roll his eyes and scowl at the mention of that junkie who was seriously getting in his way with that bitch he was attached to. He was pretending he didn't really know much about them… which wasn't a complete lie, but he had a serious suspicion he knew something about the younger Winchester that Dean didn't. He might know about the demon bitch Sam hung out with but he highly doubted this man knew about the blood and psychic shit that boy was playing with. The psychic shit was honestly the main reason he hadn't gone after Ruby yet, he wasn't like other demons, he had no idea how Sam's little exercising shit would affect him. 

“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.

He didn't say anything for a bit while Dean spoke and walked around the room, more interested in looking through the shelves of books for anything that looked promising. But he never let his guard down really, constantly aware of where Dean was around him or how close he was. He stiffened a bit when he felt Dean closer again and he asked that direct question. Izzy didn't really want to answer anything he was asked, but avoiding taking to him too much might just seem more suspicious. Fuck. He really should have paid more attention to the humans around him the last decade, he was really bad at trying to be one. "Yeah, demon related," Izzy finally said as he turned around and saw Dean holding out the whiskey he had promised. Alcohol didn't really affect him as much as it did humans unless he drank an ungodly amount so he wasn't worried about drinking at least. 

He took the glass offered to him and leaned against the bookshelf behind him, shrugging his shoulder a little, "Don't know if you picked up on it during that whole ambush shit, but I kinda hunt demons. Apparently I'm pretty good at it since they don't seem to like me much at all." He took a drink from the whiskey he was given, relishing in the burn that goes down his throat. As a demon, the little blond didn't need to eat. The few times he did were few and far between and it was always for some reason he couldn't figure out, but knew he just wanted whatever the hell it was that he was trying. But he did like to drink. Alcohol that is. He liked the burn. 

"Just curious what kind of people become demons and how. Always good for a guy to know everything he can about his enemies and all, yanno?" It wasn't a lie. He had actually been avoiding actually lying to the hunter. Izzy didn't like to lie, it was too hard to remember the fake information he had given to who. So the only thing he had lied about was his name, but that wasn't that big of a lie as Izzy did sound like a nickname for Izrael. Mostly, he was just leaving out details he didn't think Dean needed to know. Like the fact he was a demon and really just wanted to know how he, himself, had turned. How demons like him were made. Because as far as the books he had found about demons elsewhere knew, Cain was the only other person to become a demon this way. And almost nothing was fucking known about that man. As a matter of fact, he was the one demon who no matter how hard he tried Izzy could not fucking find. Not that he had really looked into how to find him. He didn't want to kill Cain like he did with everyone else he hunted down, he wanted answers. But even so, he knew Cain wasn't exactly like him and probably didn't have the answers he wanted. So that had just been another fucking dead end. The little blond didn't do a whole lot of shit that he actually wanted to do or something anyways, ninety percent of his time was spent following Asmodues' orders to hunt down Dagon's followers and make sure Lucifer didn't get out of that cage. 

Dean nodded a little when the other confirmed that it was demon related, easy guess. “You don’t pick up that kind of attention without being a major pain in their ass,” he said with a snicker. The man's shoulders stiffened when he took another drink when Izzy said what he was looking into. What kind of people become demons. He forced back a smile and shifted a little as he tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it run off with the flashbacks and nightmares he has. It felt like every time he blinked he was hit with a flash of something he’d seen or had done. He told everyone he didn't’ remember any of it and refused to talk about it and self medicated with liquor like any good hunter.

Well duh, obviously he was a pain in their asses. Two dozen of them had actually gotten together without someone in power telling them what to do to try and take him out. They failed, miserably thanks to the hunter near him right now, but it didn't negate the fact that Izzy was a huge threat to them and their plans. Really though, if the whole fucking lot of them just fucking stopped trying to set Lucifer free Izzy would have no problem leaving them alone. But until that happened…. He had a job to do. What the hell would he do with himself if Asmodeus actually managed to take the crown and this mission was over? He'd actually never thought about that before. Every single memory he had had something to do with him having to keep Lucifer in the cage. 

“Well demons are mostly twisted and tortured souls. You get twisted up so much down there you turn into something else,” he said, rubbing at his brow as he fidgeted a little as he spoke. “At the end of the day they're a spirit, just nastier. You don’t normally catch one running around before they possess someone but the same tricks apply, salt and iron,” he told him, running off a few things off the top of his head, mostly from first hand experience. “I’m sure you know all about devils traps and all that,” he said, waving his hand and finally looking over at the other. It was probably a good thing Dean had been so caught up with that Izzy was looking into that he completely missed the suspicious pronoun.

Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dean when the man just told him shit he already knew. Was he actually under the impression that someone he thought was a legit demon hunter didn't know that shit already? Also. He was wrong. While holy water did have the same effect on him that it did to most demons, salt and iron actually didn't bother him for some reason. Every single voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his mouth shut for a while, to not get sucked into this conversation. But the thing was… he actually wanted to talk about this shit. He never talked with anyone about shit he actually wanted too. Demons avoided him unless they were trying to kill him, he avoided humans and hunters, and Asmodues pretty much just told him what to do. The little demon didn't actually have any memories of just talking with someone about something he was interested in. And this happened to be the biggest fucking intrest he really had right now.

"See, right there just proves you really have no fucking clue what you're actually dealing with, do you? Obviously being tortured in hell is going to fuck up any soul in some way, but not every soul in hell becomes a demon. This world would be fucked if they did. There are millions and millions of souls in hell." He only just stopped himself from pointing out that despite Dean's own torture and escapades with Alastair he didn't actually turn into a demon. No, a fucking angel actually came and pulled him from the pit. So what the hell was it that made some souls twist the same way he had even though he hadn't gone through that die and be tortured shit and made others just… well, be tortured for all eternity. Or torture as was the case with some. "Yeah, most of them are just nastier twisted spirits, and you don't normally see one walking around without someone else's meat suit… but they can. It's apparently super fucking rare for it to happen, but a human can just wake up a demon somehow. In their own skin and everything. So I want to know what makes the souls that twist that way different from those that don't. What kind of person they must have been. And what happens to those people who turn? How does that happen? But unfortunately, because it's so fucking rare, I haven't been able to find a single book in the last ten years that actually explains that shit." He sighed a little in frustration at the thought before just shaking his head and finishing the rest of his own drink before he turned his back to Dean again to start looking through the books again, waving his own hand in dismissal of the subject. Dean wasn't going to have the answers he wanted obviously. "But yes, of course I know all about devils traps. I just don't use them." He couldn't if he wanted too, not unless he wanted to get stuck inside one himself. Besides, even if he could… with the way he hunted, it would be pretty damn useless and time consuming to try since it was usually a sneak attack/ambush of his own on their own grounds. Wasting time with a devils trap when it was just so much easier to kill them just seemed stupid. "Do you have any sort of order with these books or am I gonna have to look through all of them to find the ones about demons?"

Dean was a little taken back when Izzy said that he had no clue about demons. He felt anger rise up in his belly and his face tightened some. His pride didn’t like that but the built up emotion subsided the more Izzy spoke. He did have a point, if that’s all it took then Hell would be nothing but demons. He never really focused on the fine details, he just killed them. His face became a mix of surprises and doubt when Izzy kept going and told him about the type of demons that keep their bodies. What the hell? He’d never heard of something like that before, what the hell could it be capable of? It was a worrying thought. “This keeps getting better and better,” Dean muttered under his breath. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking about his younger brother on his road trip with his little demon buddy. What if that was Ruby's plan, twist his brother into one of them? He’d fucking gank that bitch before she could try. He wanted to call and check up but that hadn’t gone so well last time. 

He made a small face when Izzy asked about an order to the crazy amount of information. He finished his half glass of whiskey and pushed off of the table, setting the glass down before walking away. “I have a feeling what we’re looking for isn’t in here, come on,” He said, motioning the other to follow him with a head nod. He led the blond down the hall a bit, through another doorway and down some stairs. He pushed one of the two heavy doors open and held it open for the other hunter. “When we started going through the stuff that was left here we found that most of the heavy reading books are in here,” He told him. The room was about 25 by 25 feet, metal shelving lined all the walls filled with books and some jars. There was a decent sized table in the middle of the room under the only light, taking up a good chunk of the free space. 

Dean just nearly kidnapped the little blond he helped out that he knew nothing about other than the fact he could kill demons pretty damn well and brought him to his secret bunker and he thought anything that came out of this idea wouldn't be completely fucked? Hell. He was pretty damn sure that Dean didn't even realize yet that he hadn't stepped in to help a pretty little girl, but actually a boy who just happened to look a lot like one. Add on to that fact that this boy was also one of those freaky ass demons he was just talking about and you could see clearly that this man definitely hadn't thought this through. "You have no idea," Izzy mumbled back, not sure or honestly even caring if Dean heard him. 

Izzy set down the glass still in his hand before he shrugged again and followed Dean through the bunker. Fuck. This place really was huge. Izzy couldn't help but grin a little when he looked into the room. Dark. Enclosed. No way for anyone to try and sneak up on him again. Exactly the kind of rooms he liked and usually worked in when he was looking for a party to crash. "Awesome," he said as he walked in the room. Creepy jars and big old books lining the walls on top of everything else, Izzy had instantly and probably noticeably relaxed more when he was in the room that was so much like a place he would actually want to be in. He didn't say anything else as he started scanning the books on one of the shelves, his eyes widening some when he saw what he instantly felt like he had been looking for for years now. It was smaller than any of the other books in here, but that wasn't surprising considering how little information there probably was at all on demons like him. Humans Turning Demon. 

Izzy grabbed the book off the shelf and took a few steps backwards to push himself up to sit on the table, just remembering that Dean was there as he went to open the book. "Uhm… thanks," he said, forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be a human and actually used to having someone around and even weirder for him- that someone helping him. "Hey… uh, why are you being so like… nice and normal to me? As far as I've seen, people aren't just nice to strangers. Especially when said stranger is a pretty boy who can shove a knife into a human skull."

Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when  the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Dean’s back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” he said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” Dean chuckled. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.

[winchester-fantasies]

Mean Something

Read Part Two Here: Everything

Summary: With Michael possessing Dean and the responsibility of taking care of everyone from the apocalyptic universe, Sam is wearing thin. When it gets to be too much, he turns to you. Is it just a distraction or something more?

Word Count: 2423

Warnings: smut, swearing, light angst

Pairing: Sam x Reader

A/N: This is going to be a two-parter, so be on the lookout for more!

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

     You bit your lip as you watched him. His face was hard, eyes steely and concentrated as he spoke with one of the men from the apocalyptic world. Your breathing picked up, your eyes wandering over his face. The worry lines in his forehead were more pronounced these days, and dark rings sat under his once luminous and prismatic eyes. But fuck was he still good-looking. Especially with the full beard he was sporting.

     You’d always found him attractive, but somehow spending so much time with him in the alternate universe had ignited something you hadn’t even known lay buried. Now all you could think about was Sam. 

     “Find anything?” You looked up to find the very object of your obsession standing in front of you.

     You blushed, wondering how much time had passed since you’d lost yourself in daydreams about the youngest Winchester and hoping against hope he hadn’t seen you stare. 

     You cleared your throat, shuffling the newspaper clippings that sat in front of you. “Uh, no, not yet,” you said. Sam’s shoulders slumped a little further, and the disappointment in his eyes grew a little heavier.

     “But,” you said quickly, “I’m not going to stop until I find something. I mean, with the Michael and the End of Times, there’s bound to be reports of some freaky shit in here somewhere!” You tried to sound as upbeat and positive as you could, but even you were starting to feel the strain of chasing non-existent leads.

     Sam sighed and rubbed his bleary eyes with the heels of his palms. “Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “Just keep looking. And report to me ASAP if you find anything.”

     You nodded quickly. “Of course.”

     You watched him walk away, people flocking to him left and right. Barraging him with questions and asking for direction. You knew he was wearing thin, no matter how much he argued. 

     But he wouldn’t listen. Nothing you, Mary, or Cas said made any difference. Sam was determined to be the staunch and protective leader he knew Dean would be proud of.

     You’d offered to take over the delegation of some of the cases, but he’d outright refused. He said he needed you to follow up on leads on Michael. He was desperate to find Dean, and you were the only one he trusted to do it right.

     You rubbed your eyes, the words on the clippings running together into some incoherent splotch of ink. You hadn’t eaten or drunk properly in hours, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually slept. You wanted to help Sam, but you were starting to feel just as worn out, and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going at this pace.

     “Hey, (Y/N).”

     You looked up to find Maggie. You smiled, smoothing your hair and trying to look more alive and with it than you actually felt. “Oh, hey,” you said. “What’s up?”

     “Sam wants you in the pantry,” she said.

     You frowned. “Are you sure? He’s been really firm that I not leave this spot,” you said. “For anything,” you emphasized.

     She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is he told me he wants you in the pantry. Said we need to do a thorough inventory of our food and supplies.”

     You glanced around the bustling war room before finding Sam. He was standing in the archway that connected the war room to the library. He was talking to one of the men from the other universe, but his attention was anything but tuned in to what he was saying. He was watching you. Intently. Silently gauging you and your reaction. 

     You turned back to Maggie. “Okay, fine,” you said, pushing back from the table. “But don’t let anyone near these,” you said, gesturing to the clippings and giving her a pointed look. “I’ll be back for them as soon as I’m done with inventory.”

     “You have my word,” she promised with a grin.

     You smiled in return before making your way out of the room and down the hallway that led to the pantry. You sighed in relief as the busyness and loud noises of the other half of the bunker faded behind you. You relished this part of the bunker. You never realized how much you missed the quiet until you found it.  

     You glanced down each diverting corridor, finding nooks and crannies you hadn’t visited in ages. It reminded you of simpler times, before Michael and before you even knew about alternate universes. When you and the Winchesters were just happy to finally have a place to call home.

     You stopped outside one of the bedroom doors. You looked both ways. Finding no one else around, you stood on your tiptoes and felt the top of the doorframe until your fingers found the pantry key. 

     Once satisfied you were still alone, you hurried over to the pantry and unlocked it. It wasn’t that Sam didn’t trust the new group, but there were some he held more confidence in than others. Some of them had been in war so long they hardly knew what it was to be human anymore. And until Sam learned more about them, and they earned his trust a little more, the pantry was to be kept under lock and key. He’d been implicitly clear, with only you, him, Mary, and Cas knowing where the key was located.

     You put the key in your pocket for safe keeping before snatching up a blank sheet of paper and a pencil and making your way to the shelves that sat in the middle of the room.

     You took one look at the supplies and knew you’d need to go on a supply run and soon. You and Sam hadn’t been keeping up on inventory as closely as you normally did, and with the additional mouths to feed, the food had virtually disappeared under your noses. 

     You sighed and pursed your lips. You wrote out categories at the top of the page and drew lines to separate them. Even though it was pointless to even do inventory you’d do it anyway. You needed to get your mind on something else for a bit. Keeping tallies and taking stock of what you had would do the trick. Or at least you hoped so. Maybe then you could go back to scouring the newspaper clippings with a fresh mind.

     You were so engrossed in your work you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps. “How’s it going?” Sam asked. 

     You jumped and nearly dropped the can of beans you were holding. “Holy shit, Sammy!” you exclaimed, whirling around, finding him standing in the open doorway. “You scared me,” you chuckled, placing a hand over your heart.

     Sam gave you a half-smile. “Sorry,” he said.

     “So what time is it?” you asked, turning back to the paper that was nearly filled.

     “A little after 6:30,” he said.

     “Shit!” you snapped. It’d been nearly three hours since you’d come down here! “I’m sorry, Sam. I just lost track of time I guess,” you said apologetically. You sat the paper and pencil on the shelf. “I’ll get back to the clippings ASAP. I can finish this later.”

     You started for the door, but Sam didn’t move when you finally reached it. You looked up at him in confusion.

     “I didn’t come down here for that,” Sam said.

     You frowned. “Then what?” Your eyes widened. “Did something happ…” 

     You never got the chance to finish as Sam took your face in his large palms and planted his lips firmly against yours. You were so caught off guard you barely registered what was happening. Finally logic took over, and you pushed him away, causing him to stumble backwards into the doorframe.

     “What the fuck was that?” you shrieked, wiping your mouth in shock.

     “I… I’m sorry,” Sam stuttered. He pushed away from the door and came to stand in front of you. He reached out, his hand brushing your arm gingerly. “I didn’t mean to get so carried away. It’s just….” 

     He groaned, pulling you firmly into him. You stood stock-still. You weren’t entirely sure what you should say or how you should act. A part of you was elated he had kissed you and that you were now in his arms. But mostly you were just confused. He’d never given you any indication he’d ever had feelings for you beyond friendship.

     “Fuck, (Y/N),” he whispered in your ear. “I’ve thought about you all. Damn. Day.”

     You swallowed and closed your eyes against the butterflies in your stomach. This was just his grief and exhaustion talking. People did crazy shit when they were grief-stricken.

     “I’ve thought about how it would feel to have you in my arms,” he said, drawing you impossibly closer. “And about how soft your skin must be,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

     A shaky breath left your mouth, and you fisted your hands into the thick denim of your jeans. You had to keep it together. You knew it was futile, though, as you felt the warmth of arousal travel straight to your nether regions.

     “But mostly I thought about you writhing beneath me as I fucked you good and hard. Just like you deserve,” Sam growled, nipping at your earlobe.

     This time you shuddered, barely able to contain the moan at the back of your throat. You licked your lips and cleared your throat. 

     “Sam,” you said, trying to gather your thoughts. However, you found it nearly impossible. Especially when his hands were roaming your body - kneading your thighs, ghosting your skin. 

     “Sam,” you tried again. “I…uh…I think we should….”

     “Please, (Y/N),” Sam begged. He nuzzled his face against yours, his beard prickling your skin and leaving tingles of desire in their wake. “Need you,” he breathed.

     You leaned back in his arms, looking up into his desperate eyes. Out of all the girls he could’ve been balls deep in by now he’d waited. He’d pined. He’d come to you. That had to mean something. Right?

     You swallowed, studying his face intently. You hoped you weren’t making the biggest mistake of your life. “Okay,” you said with a slight nod.

     Sam’s eyes darkened then, and in one swift movement, he’d slammed the door shut with his boot and locked it. Then he was on you again, your kisses nothing but clashing teeth and dancing tongues.

     He clawed at your clothes, and you fumbled for the button on his jeans as he backed you up, your back hitting the work table in the corner. You pulled away from the kiss, hurriedly unbuttoning your jeans and discarding them and your panties to the side.

     Sam hoisted you up, perching you on the edge of the table. He slid his fingers underneath the hem if your shirt and tugged up, pulling it over your head and adding it to the pile beside him.

     His eyes roamed your body appreciatively before he stepped between your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him close. He trailed kisses along your collarbone and left feather light pecks to the peaks of your breasts peeking from the top of your bra. 

     He pulled back and unbuttoned his jeans, your earlier attempts unsuccessful. They pooled at his ankles before he pushed his boxers down, his erection springing free. You bit your lip and met his self-satisfied smirk. “Like what you see?” he asked.

     You nodded your head slowly, and then you opened your arms, beckoning him back between your legs. He obliged, pulling you to the edge of the table. 

     You gasped as he unexpectedly pushed in, and you gripped his back, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You good?” he asked, stroking your thigh.

     You nodded. “Ye…yeah,” you chuckled. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his thighs. 

     You hissed, the slight sting of his member dragging against your walls a painful pleasure as he began to thrust into you, languid and deep. You gripped the back of his neck, fingers weaving into the hair at the base of his skull. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. 

     “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight,” he groaned in your ear. White hot arousal pooled in your stomach at his words, and you moaned as it settled in your core. 

     Sam gripped your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. He held you firmly in place as his pace picked up, his tip hitting your sweet spot with every brutal thrust.

     Soft moans, uneven pants, and the sound of skin on skin filled the air, mixing with the heavy scent of sex. A sheen of sweat was building on your brow and upper lip, and Sam’s back was damp as you slid your hands under his shirt. 

     “Fuck, (Y/N),” Sam panted. “I’m close,” he said, gripping your ass and pounding into you impossibly faster and going unfathomably deeper. 

     You scraped your fingers down his back, a moan escaping your lips as the pleasure grew. “M…me, too,” you gasped as your walls started fluttering. Sam reached between you, his thumb finding your swollen clit. He rubbed furiously, the pressure shooting fireworks of ecstasy coursing through your entire body.

     You cried out, your vision blurred, and your hearing grew muffled as the coil snapped. Expletives rolled off Sam’s tongue as your walls clamped down around him. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as his hips faltered and ropes of hot cum coated your walls.

     He gingerly pulled out, your walls tender and fluttering with aftershocks. Sam’s breathing were heavy, his cheeks rosy as he leaned over and took a cloth from one of the shelves. He cleaned himself up before pulling his boxers and jeans back up. 

     He ran his fingers through his damp hair and sent you a half-smile. “Thanks for the distraction,” he said, tossing you the rag. You watched him walk away, closing the door behind him to give you privacy while you cleaned yourself up. 

     Your heart fell and knots of disappointment filled your stomach as you hopped off the table. You pulled your jeans back on, your legs still shaky. You stuffed your ruined panties and the soiled rag into the back pocket of your jeans to deposit into the laundry later, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. Guess it didn’t mean anything after all….

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