#dean's fear of abandonment

[shallowrambles]

OOF. Imaginary lovers never turn you down.

This is one of Dean's Harper-coded neuroses for sure.

I think because John was hot-and-cold caretaker, Dean is very...insecurely attached. Even as a child, we see him balking at Sam seeking college, to the point of accidentally smothering the dreams on occasion, and pressuring even when tries to be "sorta okay with it." (Like how we see him in Drag Me Away from You)

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So anyway, it's a neurosis I love love love to see. Dean will use phrases like, "This isn't really you," and occasionally always-and-never statements whenever he's glomped on a brand new ally to fulfill the fantasy of "never letting him down / disappointing him." SUPERMAN, even. That old hero worship.

But much like with Harper Sayles, even Vance isn't Vance! And so, none of Dean's idealized figures are really them either. He struggles with balancing trust and instinct. (Note: This is how all relationships tend to work. It's what's so LOVELY about Dean growing through these imperfections. He gets older and wiser. "He can try to get better, every day.")

He eventually starts to accept the mistakes of his loved ones: Sam, Mary, Cas. HIMSELF. We see in s15 when he insists he always "knew Chuck was squirrelly" when he clearly didn't. Dean is so used to being right about people/intuition, it's REALLY had to swallow when he's dead wrong. "I didn't wanna admit I was wrong." (He got played by Crowley, by Cain, then Chuck. It sucks to get manipulated so thoroughly!)

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Anyway. This theme of imperfection, of seeing one another is even what's driving SPNwin.

It asks the question: "What if mom and dad had been REALLY able to truly see one another?"

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ANYWAY, this stuck out to me!!! I don't know if I want it to be a meta or not, so it goes on the vent blog instead...

IN SEASON 10, Dean is spiraling and running. It doesn't matter who. He's disinhibited, used as a pawn to ensure a "rich man's" continued place as ruler, just as Michael would have used him as a sword to win a war/maintain power.

In season 9-10, Dean is vulnerable. He's reeling from rejection and being shunned for his mistakes. This makes so much sense in the terms of the scripted season 8, with Dean saying "I love you" and getting rejected by Cas, and then again for trying to save Sam's life and “trusting the wrong person" the way Cas (in parallel) trusted Metatron to try to protect others…

After spending all of season 8 coming to terms with the imperfections of his family and loosening up on some of his rigid expectations, after dealing with the complexity of both his little brother AND his would-be love interest, it all blows up in Dean’s face.

Itssooooooooo

//

-> Dean was rejected by his bro for trying to do the right thing, for trying an experimental treatment to save his life, which lead to both the unintended rejection of Cas and Kevin's death. (Sam will later "get Charlie killed" in his attempts to save Dean with ....an experimental hail-Mary.)

-> And in season 9, Cas got back into the Angel war, and Dean didn't like him being a military man again, fearing that it would be Groundhog day all over again. And so, Dean continued to spiral. He was continually paralleled with both Josie Sands-Henry relationship and Josie's shadow self, Abbadon, a knight of Hell, a shrieking wrathful pain.

Dean is become like knight of Hell Abaddon herself at first, before later reversing course to parallel another knight of Hell: Cain.

//

I think of this like Dean's reversal power arc. Dean is become like Rowena: I'll never be powerless again. And his whole world reverses: he gets to call out Sam for the evil Sam is doing, Sam gets to be the one who makes mistakes when trying to save him, and Cas gets the "wife" treatment instead of the war husband one.

Dean is the one to beat Cas up for once, and Cas is one of the characters who gets the brunt of Dean's brutality, because Cas is the one who hurt him the most.

Which brings me to this. Oof. Imaginary people. Imaginary lovers. Escape to the fantasy world. It doesn't matter WHO. Just keep running.

In season 9-10, Dean escapes more fully into a more extreme version of his season 8 neuroses, a world where no one lets him down, except this time he's flipping from imaginary person to person, searching for anyone that "won't let him down."

And guess what? The world still does. And Dean's tired already. Chasing freedom didn't free him or bring contentment.

With the toiling work of Hell on his tail, he runs again, this time to Anne-Marie, who despite his demonness and Crowley's ire, Dean seems to be catching feelings for. Crowley clocks it right away: "Damanged. I can see the old you falling for that."

(Because Dean already is. His humanity is a glimmer, but it's still there. We'll see it in demon Dean’s dispatchment of Lester rather than his assigned target, the wife.)

And more than that, Crowley misunderstands Dean's whole deal: that he is simply running. Running, running, running. Anyone will do.

"Somewhere else.” He says this to Anne-Marie. In a way Dean’s running is checking out of life, a bit like season 7 Cas (nihilism/existential crisis) and season 8 Sam (white picket fence as purely escapism).

But you can't run from yourself.

Dean's humanness hangs on, even in the midst of his Hell tasks, and his humanness persists even in seedy bars with random women-he-should-feel-nothing-for. It is a vexing thing.

He's supposed to feel nothing, to be a rolling stone.

And he isn't.

///

And Dean himself has been a little bit like Anne-Marie herself. It's an old wound by this point, but I see it as a nod to the whole Cas-Raphael thing.

Dean was so busy spiraling over Cas being in danger in s8-10 that he never had time to process all of what happened with Cas’s betrayal. He's still hurt.

And with s9 Cas rejoining the angels, though understandable and well-intentioned...it opened that old vein.

& things like this are in parallel too.

Cause Cas was saying he was doing it for Dean...and then he kept going, punishing Heaven. (There are real feelings for Dean in the mix, but nothing is singular…it’s always tied up in other things.)

I disagree with Metatron in saying that Cas “in love with humanity” solely explained his actions. Yes, Cas is motivated by protecting his human fam, but there have been incredible moments where he wanted to punish the other angels, where he inflicted unnecessary violence on demons (like the demon looting and fleeing Hell in 15x03 The Rupture.

Demon Dean’s “I protected your honor, didn't I?" sounds a lot to me like, Cas’s “Has any but your closest kin ever done more for you?"

Cas did all that for him, or so he said, and yet...

///

Because imho what was going one with Cas wasn't solely about protecting his human family.

There's other complicated stuff in the mix.

It was also about the feelings of betrayal BY Heaven. (Which is why he didn't even trust his own rebel angels!) Cas was utterly rejected by Heaven, MURDERED without a thought by Raphael.

Cas gave into his authoritarianism because he was angry. He was emotional and he was channeling that. They need a firm hand because he loves them. You know, like the specter of pizza man and the babysitter.

///

And yeah, it’s okay that Dean hasn't fully reckoned with that. Dean in s9 said, “Cas, I know you try to be a good guy, okay?" Anne-Marie...she almost...echoes that sentiment when she said “I thought you were a good guy playing bad.”

It's off-key, but it's...similar somehow.

I love that Cas toppled from the Superman pedestal, hitting at Dean's emotional interiority and challenges in the most extreme example possible!

I feel like Lily Sunder flirts with the shadow version of this, because when she first met Ishim, she thought he was PERFECT, too.

It's not one-to-one, but it sure as Hell is getting at Dean's "Cas makes so many mistakes" anxieties, which AU Michael will tap into, too!

But mistake-making IS humanity! AU Michael doesn't get that. (Metatron eventually will. "Sure they lie and they cheat and they steal...but they never give up. YOU do!")

///

So back to Anne-Marie. When she calls Dean on his deeper issues, he:

DEAN: *belittles her judgment and demeans her, calling her a skank* ANNE-MARIE: I'm so screwed up myself. I'm gonna walk out of here thinking I actually deserved that.

This conversation is a a little like this one, where Cas belittles Dean's human status. It's not *skank* but he does call him *just a man.*

CAS: You're just a man.

Anyway, when Dean starts becoming enamored with Anne-Marie, he's not only clinging to humanity, not only starting to love even when he isn’t supposed to be able to (another Cas parallel), he’s doing his own version of soul-searching, seeing himself in someone else.

But because this is his reversal arc, where HE has the power, he gets to be in Cas's more powerful position here and he gets to lecture Sam.

(Until Amara, ofc, where he will abruptly flip to a powerless default.)

ALSO!!!! There’s this swirling painful question of being nothing more than an EXCUSE to do violence…or used as THE MUSE to give another false person’s work “more importance.”

Dean is afraid he is both for Cas.

I mean. Cas left after season 5, after a weird convo where Dean tries to figure out if Cas plans to stay and/or cares about him by “fishing” for info.

Cas also left in season 8 to go and lock up Heaven behind him forever, etc etc.

Dean worries that he’s more muse than loved one. A banner to wave in the war. An excuse. Inspirational, at best.

///

And Dean is working through his defense mechanisms. And like I said, idealization is a normal part of most relationships.

It usually occurs in the early phases and signals immaturity. But choosing to move past these phases, choosing to stay with people and keep striving can be a wonderful theme of resilience, even if in SPN does it in extreme strokes.

///

And then we get MARY, the motherload of Dean's idealization.

In season 15, when Dean says, "My mom is my hero," he means it in a different way to his early idealizations. He means warts and all! It’s so great!

///

Which is why I love Optimism SOOOOOooooo much. You get Harper, who struggles with similar things...and we get that dynamic scene of her crowing about perfection is contrasted with Dean's wisdom he's giving to Jack!

BONUS thoughts:

Cas, Raphael, and Dean, and the triangle with Dean, Hell, and Anne-Marie reminds me of this SPNwin scene:

Ah, yes, another fave motif. The John-Cas-Jack boxing motif.

Anyhoo, we have John saying he wants to PROTECT Mary...to KEEP HER FROM DYING. He's doing this to protect her.

And...

Yeah, sometimes I will kiss Robbie on the mouth.

BONUS BONUS thought: in SPNprime, Mary does the same thing for her kids....resonating with John's journal and his fear. Mary dives head-first into trying to eradicate ALL the danger...to win the ENTIRE war so her sons can be safe.

(Aside///Samuel C does this in SPNwin too...with the box that would eat up all the evil in the world.)

I love the theme. Mary nearly destroys the thing she was wanting to protect in the first place. (Like Henry. Like John and his boys. Like so many others.)

BONUS:

It's not either/or! For the matter, why is it peace OR freedom, never both!

[getjizzedonjohnnyboy]

Sam is the character of all time he’s such a perfect projection character like yeah she’s closeted trans yeah he has religious trauma, he cuts himself and wants to die cuz his dad molested him and he gets raped over and over, his body isn’t his own he’s trapped

[deangendered]

#not leaving is dean's LOVE LANGUAGE. AND YET!!!!!!!!! #to him the worst thing that could happen to a person is to be left behind by someone they love. and so he promises mary to stay #dean making sure sam stays alive no matter the cost is him saying IF YOU DON'T LOVE ME I WILL MAKE YOU #obviously the confession came out of left field for him he's been watching cas die on him for ten years he had NO! IDEA! (op's tags)

#this is a shockingly good depiction of the consequences of child abuse. literally andrew dabb you are my friend you are my enemy #what is family to dean but the dissolution of all personal boundaries and identity (op's tags on another reblog)

this show is deeply evil

[samuelsdean]

Flicker

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: "can i hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness. a flicker of surprise crossed dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "yeah, you can."

genre: fluff

word count: 1.3k

author's notes: hi! here's another dean fic because i'm having a winchester brainrot after choosing to rewatch the show for the nth time. it's fluff again because i'm a sucker for soft!dean and i like it when idiots who are mutually pining for each other finally hold hands after 9989 years.

THE WIND HOWLED LIKE A WOLF ON A FULL MOON ON A PERPETUALLY OVERCAST NIGHT. It scoured the dust from the abandoned house's roof, a skeletal silhouette against the bruise-colored sky. The once-white picket fence weathered to a sickly gray, stood like crooked teeth in a decaying grin. The trees behind it, looming and stark, clawed at the sky, their branches whispering secrets the wind refused to carry.

You shivered, the cold a mere whisper compared to the unsettling feeling that prickled your skin. This place, nestled in a forgotten fold of a desolate highway at the edge of a forest, vibrated with a wrongness that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

"This place feels… dicey," Dean muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. He scanned the deserted midway, his eyes narrowed in a way that spoke volumes of past encounters with the unsettling.

"Think the rumors were true?" you asked, swallowing hard against the lump of unease in your throat.

The "rumors" were the reason you were standing in this creepy house at dusk. A string of disappearances, whispers of screams echoing in the dead of night, all traced back to this desolate stretch of road. Apparently, there was an urban legend of sorts in the area where a couple would get a flat tire out of nowhere, and with the area being nothing but just a highway and trees, the couple would choose to trek to a nearby house, only for them end up missing right after.

"Why? Are you scared?" A wry smile tugged at the corner of Dean's lips as he teased you. Before you could shoulder-check him for bugging you, he added, "Maybe, maybe not. But sticking together's the best bet we got, wouldn't you say?"

His gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of something akin to concern beneath the gruff exterior. It was a rare glimpse into the man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Dean Winchester grew up suppressing whatever emotion he had besides his usual cocky demeanor and smirks because he had to raise Sam, his younger brother while hunting whatever it is that crawled out of the depths of hell. And Dean did a damn great job at that, Sam was now off to Stanford.

At that moment, the fear dissipated, replaced by a fierce determination.

"Yeah," you said, your voice firmer than you felt. "Let's get out of here."

He extended his hand, his calloused fingers surprisingly warm against your own. You hesitated for a beat, the implication of the gesture hanging heavy in the air. It was more than just a practical suggestion; it was a silent promise of support, a brief moment of connection you craved with this gruff hunter.

"Can I hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness.

A flicker of surprise crossed Dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "Yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "Yeah, you can."

You laced your fingers through his, the gesture a silent affirmation that went beyond the immediate danger. But for you, it was also a chance for something more, a stolen moment of skinship you yearned for.

As you walked, the wind seemed to whisper secrets around you, the creaking of the dilapidated house a morbid soundtrack. Each creak sent shivers down your spine, but Dean's grip remained steady, a reassuring anchor. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, his profile etched sharply against the dying light. The way his worn jacket barely contained the heat radiating from his body made your cheeks flush.

His hand, usually so quick to let go, lingered in yours. You weren't sure if he noticed the way your thumb brushed against his calloused skin, a silent plea for a little more contact. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, or the way the danger heightened your senses, but Dean felt like a furnace beside you.

Suddenly, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye. A hulking shadow, all wrong angles, and unnatural speed darted behind a boarded-up ticket booth. A guttural growl, unlike anything you'd ever heard, ripped through the air. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird.

"Did you see that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

Dean squeezed your hand, a silent acknowledgment, his hold tightening almost imperceptibly. This time, you were certain it wasn't just the danger.

"Stay close," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He unsheathed his knife, its silver glinting in the fading light. You drew your own weapon, a wave of nausea washing over you. You hated this part, the constant feeling of being on the edge of a knife.

Stepping cautiously forward, you and Dean crept toward the source of the movement. The closer you got, the more the air crackled with an unnatural energy, the scent of decay thick and cloying. As you rounded a corner, the full horror of the creature revealed itself.

Towering over you was a monstrous figure, its once-human form twisted and warped. Its skin, a patchy mix of worminess and sickly shade, hung greasy. Claws, like sharpened daggers, protruded from its elongated fingers. But the most terrifying aspect was its face. A grotesque mockery of a human, its eyes burned with a bloodshot sclera devoid of any humanity.

The Rougarou, a creature born of insatiable hunger and despair, let out a bone-chilling roar, the sound echoing through the abandoned carnival. It lunged a blur of teeth and wormy skin.

The fight was a desperate ballet of survival. Dean, drawing on years of experience, moved with practiced efficiency, dodging the Rougarou's attacks while searching for an opening. You fought with a mix of fear and determination, adrenaline fueling your movements.

The Rougarou swiped at you with a clawed hand, leaving a searing mark across your arm. Pain flared, but you gritted your teeth, refusing to let it slow you down.

Dean created an opening, shouting, "Fire!" You lunged for your pocket, the familiar weight of the lighter a comfort in your hand. Snapping it open, you flicked the wheel, a flame erupting in the dying light. Hurling it with all your might, you aimed for the Rougarou's chest.

It shrieked, a sound that seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself. The flame erupted on its body, a blossom of searing orange against the decaying flesh. The Rougarou thrashed, its inhuman roar turning into a desperate, pained yowl. It stumbled back, clawing at the burning fur, an unholy stench filling the air.

Fear, raw and primal, flickered in its eyes. But fear was a fleeting emotion for the creature. It roared again, charging at you with a desperate, burning lunge. This time, you were ready. You rolled to the side, the creature's claws missing you by a hair's breadth. Taking advantage of its momentum, Dean drove his silver knife into the Rougarou's back.

The creature howled in pain, clawing wildly. With a final, earth-shaking tremor, it collapsed, dissolving into a cloud of black smoke that dissipated with a sickly sweet stench.

You and Dean stood there, chests heaving, sweat clinging to your skin. The silence that followed was deafening.

"That was..." you started, your voice raspy.

"A Rougarou," Dean finished, his voice grim. "Nasty sons of bitches."

He reached out, checking the wound on your arm. His touch was surprisingly gentle. "You okay?"

You nodded, a weak smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks to you."

Dean met your gaze, a flicker of something warm passing between you in the fading light. He didn't say anything, but the way his hand lingered on your arm spoke volumes.

Together, you walked out of the abandoned place, the wind whispering through the trees, no longer sounding ominous but strangely peaceful. The horrors you'd faced had brought you closer, forging a bond forged in danger and shared survival. You knew this wouldn't be your last hunt, but for now, you had each other. And in that knowledge, you found a flicker of hope, a warmth that chased away the lingering chills of the night.

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

Better Late Than Never

Title: Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count: ~2,143

In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!

Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.

So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.

But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.

In front of others.

In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.

But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.

It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.

Until today.

A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.

When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.

Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.

“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”

You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”

You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”

Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.

As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.

You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.

You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”

The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.

But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.

As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.

You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.

Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.

Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”

You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.

You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.

Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.

You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.

You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.

Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.

You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.

Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”

His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”

Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.

Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Stay. Here.”

Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.

You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.

Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.

He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.

Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.

He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”

You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.

Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.

When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.

You’d never been hugged like that before.

His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.

Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.

When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”

“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”

You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.

He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.

You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”

Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”

You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”

He nodded, unmoving.

You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”

A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”

A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”

You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”

You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.

You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.

“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”

He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.

Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

FUCK ME, SLOWLY

SMUT , SMUTTY, SMUT

D. WINCHESTER x Y/N

Warning: P IN V, FEMALE AND MALE ORAL, UNPROTECTED SEX (wrap it up!)

Dean and Sam had been on a hunt about vampires and what not. Y/n is a 34 year old mother whose husband died 3 years ago. And some agents had come to her home to ask her questions about the kidnapping of her friend/ co-worker. Since she’s been missing for a few days now. “I’m sorry, agent. I haven’t seen her since the last time I worked with her.” She told them. “Was she acting strange, you know before she was kidnapped?” The handsome man with the dirty blonde hair asked her as she shook her head. “No, she was normal as always. Always upbeat, and very outgoing.” She told him.

“Do you know if she’ll be okay?” She asked him as he sighed. “We’ll let you know as soon as we know.” He told her and she nodded her head. “Okay, Mrs. Y/ L/N. That would be all.” The taller one told her as she stood up to walk them out the door. “Thank you so much agents, please inform me when you find her.” She told them as the shorter one nodded at her as he gave her a kind smile as they both walked out her home. Y/ N was kind of scared because of the fact that all the girls that were getting kidnapped fitted her description. But she had no other choice to go to work. It’s how she kept a shelter over her daughter’s head. She sighed and she got ready to go to work.

So, after she dropped off Serena off with the babysitter off she went to work. Y/N was walking to the diner she worked in and suddenly she was hit behind her head making her completely blackout.

Y/N woke up with a gasp as she looked around the place she was in. She was in an abandoned barn. “Hello?” She called out as she groaned trying to touch the back of her head but found out she was tied up. “What the hell?” She whispered and she was trying to get out of the ropes. “Hello, beautiful.” A voice said making her head snap up to the new voice. “Who the fuck are you?” She asked as her body shook. She was so scared. “You, my love.” The man said as he walked over to her. “Are dinner.” He said.

“No.” She whimpered as she tried harder to get out of the restraints she was in. “Let me go!” She said to the man as she wiggled her body. “No can do.” He said to her as she cried out. “Please, someone help!” She yelled but the man just laughed at her attempt for help. “No one can hear you.” He told her smirking.

“Think again, blood sucker.” Said a familiar deep voice from behind the man. The man didn’t get a chance to turn around when he was decapitated. Y/N gasped in horror and she looked up seeing the agent from earlier. “Agent?” She asked as he walked over to her. She tried backing away in fear but he puts his hands up showing her he was no threat to her. She lets out a cry as he untied her. “That.” He said as he points at the man. “Was a vampire.” He told her as she scoffs in disbelief. “Yeah right.” She told him as she rubs her wrist as she looked at the dead body.

So, he told her everything of the supernatural and she, for some reason believed him. Y/N called her babysitter, seeing it was morning telling her she had to take an extra shift and she told her it was okay, to take her time and not hurry. So, Y/N learned the real names of the men that saved her life. She learned that their names were Sam and Dean Winchester.

They sat on her couch after they took her to pick up her daughter. It was still dark outside and she really needed a drink after the night she had. Sam said he wanted to call it a night and head back to his room. Dean, was about to go with him but Y/N begged him to stay with her as she was scared they would come.

“And so my husband died three years ago and I’ve been alone since.” She slurred buzzed. She knew Serena won’t wake up until later in the morning so, a few drinks didn’t hurt anybody. If Y/N was being honest. She felt so lonely and in need to blow off some steam. She looked over at Dean and he looked back at her. Dean, had been in purgatory for a year. Hasn’t been with anyone in over a year and since he got back. And he wouldn’t deny Y/N if she wanted him. She was beautiful, and very single at that.

Y/N got up from the couch and went to go sit down next to Dean. His forest green eyes not leaning her eyes. “I feel so lonely.” She said as he just looked at her. Y/N started to unbutton her uniform knowing she didn’t have a bra over her uniform. She never wore one. She didn’t like them. Her chest popped out and his eyes looked at her hardened nipples as she stood up. She shook off her uniform letting it fall to the floor of her living room, leaving her in only in her pink thong. She pulled off her thong throwing it to the side as Dean quietly watched her as he started to get a hard one as he looked at the beautiful woman.

His hand went over to his pants pushing down his boner, groaning as she turns around, bending down giving him a view of her glistening pussy. “Beautiful.” Dean whispered as she looked back standing back up with her uniform in her hands throwing it to the side. Dean, grabbed her hand and immediately pulled her onto his lap. Crashing each other’s lips against one another as she pants rolling her hips trying to relief some pressure she felt between her legs as she kissed the man. Dean hugged her waist and laid her on the couch pulling away from the kiss as he stood up getting fully undressed. He pulled down his boxer shorts making his dick pop straight up making her hum at his size. Dean, leaned back down kissing her neck and down to the valley of her chest and to her nipples. But she pulled him back. “I still breastfeed.” She said panting as he nods his head and kisses down her stomach his face ending in between legs.

Dean spreads her folds getting a view of how wet and pink her pussy was. His pointer finger circling her clit making her gasp in pure pleasure as her back arched. It’s been way too long since she’s had any type of pleasure. “Ah, fuck.” She whispered quivering as he played with her clit. Her legs over his shoulder as they shook. Y/N moaned louder as she felt his tongue on her clit flickering his tongue making her a mess.

Deans fingers entered her tight pussy making her let out a silent scream as he started fingering her in and out, in and out. His fingers curling on her G-spot. Her back arched her legs spreading even wider as her jaw dropped open, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she finally lets out a long loud moan. “Aaahh!” She shook, her whole body shaking so intensely as she hasn’t orgasmed in 3 years after her husband died.

“God! Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god!” She yelled as she wrapped her fingers around his hair bringing deeper as she rode out her intense high as Dean just slobbered her pussy, her walls fluttering around his thick long fingers. Finally she slumped on the couch panting as her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her face as he pulled out his fingers making her gasp.

Dean stood back up, licking his fingers of her orgasm. And then wiped his mouth as it was filled with how much orgasm she left him with around his mouth. “Fuck, that was hot.” Dean said as Y/N looks at his throbbing cock, leaking so much with pre-cum. She could see how turned on he was from how she had released on his face. Y/N sat up getting in front of the standing hunter, coming face to face with the head of his cock. It was so red and begging for some release. Y/N looked up at him as she puts her hands on his hips, and kissed the tip of his cock making him groan softly as it twitched. Y/N puts the tip in her mouth and sucked on it making the hunter let out a moan as his eyes closed. He hasn’t gotten any kind of action since he came out from purgatory so if he came fast, it’s because it’s been a whole damn year.

Dean let’s out a loud moan closing his eyes letting his head fall back as she took him all in and bobbed her head up and down on him making his hips buckle as his hand found her hair tangling his fingers in her hair and bobbed her head making the hunter grunt as he fucked her mouth. “Fuck.” He breathed out as he tries not to release in her mouth as he wanted to fuck her so hard. But it was becoming impossible to do so.

So, he pulled her hair making her let go of his throbbing cock as he panted. “What’s wrong?” She asked him as he looked down at her swollen pink lips. “If I let you continue, I will cum.” He told her as she nods her head understanding. Instead he picked her up from the couch turning her around. He kissed her shoulders making her head tilt to the side to give him more access to her neck as he grazed his teeth on her neck. Chills erupted all over her body at the feeling of his teeth grazing her neck. She could also feel his very hard dick behind her as he rolled his hips

Y/N gasped as Dean bends her down. His cock poking her entrance teasing her as he slides his dick on her folds making her moan. Finally he slowly entered her making them both moan at the pleasure taking over their bodies. “Ah my god!” She moaned. Dean kept filling her all the way as he tightened his grip on her hips as he panted at how tight she felt.

“God, you feel so tight.” He said breathing heavily as she looked back at him. Dean, pulled her up from her hair, her back against his chest. “You can move.” She then whispered as he rolled his hips. “Aah!” She lets out a broken moan as she felt him hit her G-spot. He pulled his cock out, leaving just his head inside and he slammed back inside making Y/N let out a very loud moan as he himself moan against her ear as he did it again and again and again. “Fuck, Dean!” She screamed out as he started to pick up his pace his hips slapping against hers as both of them moaned.

Dean pulled out of her pussy about to try and lay her down but she pushed him down to the floor as she crashed her lips against his in a lustful kiss. And he did not mind. Y/N got on top of Dean pulling away from the kiss. She lifted herself up and grabbed his cock putting it at her entrance and slides down as Dean hissed. Y/N started to roll her hips moaning as her hands went up to her chest her head thrown back as she played with her own nipples making Dean groan seeing the woman enjoying herself on him. She opened her eyes looking into his as she slowly rolls her hips. Dean didn’t mind about the fact that they were taking their time. Nice and slowly, he was really enjoying it. It’s something he has not really enjoyed with a woman ever. She was so damn sexy.

Y/N up from her knees, supporting herself on his chest and started to bounce on him making the hunter whimper as she bounced faster on him his eyes falling close as his hands grabbed her hips, he bends his legs and stared to slam into her at a fast pace. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck! Don’t stop!” She squealed as she started to shake. Dean took that to his advantage and flipped her on her back as she gasped slamming his cock inside of her as her walls tightened around his cock making his head fall onto her neck as her kept on moaning, and grunting. “Aaah!!” Y/N saw white spots as she came around Deans cock her walls fluttering as she shook in pure undeniable pleasure. “God!!” She arched her back.

That made Dean gasped his eyes widening as he lets go. “Aargh!!” Deans cock twitched as he released his seed into her. “Fuck!” The hunter groaned loudly as he slammed his cock hard making her gasp as they ride out their orgasms. Dean slowed down grunting.

He slumped on top of her breathing heavily against her neck as he stayed still inside of her.

He kissed her neck lightly as she hugged him letting their breathing settle and their heart rates slow down from the amazing time they had. “Whew.” Dean said pulling himself up looking down at her as they both smiled. “It’s been a while.” He said as he pulled out making Y/N gasp softly as he rolled over to her side.

“That was amazing” she said as he looked over at her. “Yeah, it was.” He told her smiling.

They both ended up on the couch naked both had fallen asleep cuddled with satisfied smiles on their faces. It’s something Y/N hasn’t felt in 3 years. It’s something that the love of her life used to make her feel, she felt alive, alive for the first time in 3 years.

Y/N slowly opened her eyes a few hours later and still felt the man next to her. His chest rising softly up and down and she looked up seeing him still asleep. She looked over at the time and it was 9 in the morning meaning that Serena wasn’t waking up until another hour. So, Y/N sat up slowly trying not to wake him up getting in between his legs grabbing his soft dick and started pumping it making it get hard.

She puts it in her mouth fully making the hunter gasp awake as he felt her mouth on him making him moan. As he bobbed her head up and down so fast.

Y/N walked Dean over to the door with Serena in her arms. He ate, they fucked two more times and out the door he went refreshed after an amazing night. “You got my number, right?” He asked her as she gave him a smile and a nod as Serena babbled next to her. “Call me.” He told her as she blushed at him.

Smiling she closed the door as she felt more alive than she’s felt in such a long time.

[choerypetal]

Pink Laptop / Sam Winchester

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

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

enjoy xo'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sammygender]

you ever think about how dean has literally never existed by himself. never lived alone. never seen himself outside of his relation to the people around him. until age 22 he was part of the sam-dad family unit. 22-26 just him and dad. 26-31 him and sam. then sam dies and he just shows up at lisa’s house and becomes part of their family. then sam comes back and he goes back to the codependency with sam.

he has no conception of himself outside of his relationships with others, that’s why he’s so sensitive to being abandoned, that’s why the idea of sam dying scares him so much…. it’s more than just love for sam and it’s more than just fear of being alone. he genuinely cannot comprehend that he could even exist while alone, while not in relation to others, while not Taking Care Of (in whatever fucked up ways he defines that) others.

& ironically it totally starts to destroy his relationship with sam. you can’t put everything on one person…. especially when it’s not even about the other person, it’s about the fact that you’ve grown up thinking you’re nothing when alone and suddenly useful and valuable if you’re protecting someone or helping someone or killing something. Fucked up if true. I get it.

[hunterscabin]

Everything Goes Wrong

Summary: Dean is there to comfort his little sister after she suffers a fatal injury while hunting.

Pairings: Dean x Sister!Reader; Sam x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst; hurt/comfort; whump; death

Word Count: 1.3k 

Author’s Note: Requested from anonymous many moons ago. 

Dean. He was running toward you, screaming your name. You couldn’t comprehend his urgency; the leviathan were dead, the fight was over.

It all happened so quickly. You walked into a battle already underway. A small group of hunters also trailing the levis were first to arrive at the hideout, complicating an already dicey hunt. At the sight of their chaotic fighting, it became immediately clear that none of them had the tact or skill of a Winchester. Your brothers took action, causing two of the chompers to flee. Dean tossed one of the rookie hunters a sack of crude borax bombs and instructed them to capture the runaways. Sam crossed the warehouse, distracting one of the remaining leviathan. Dean took advantage of his brother’s diversion, driving the righteous, blood soaked bone he brandished deep into her skull.

On the other side of the abandoned stockroom, you were taking a beating from the last leviathan. He had been momentarily stunned by the bottle of borax you smashed over him, but his resiliency was remarkable. Almost immediately regaining his composure, he flung you into a pile of scrap metal. You scrambled to your feet, unsheathing your knife in the process. He made quick work of disarming you before effortlessly pinning you against a steel support beam. You winced, preparing for the worst, when suddenly, he retreated. Your eyes opened to find Sam impaling him with the bone several yards away.

High off the action, your entire body pulsed with energy. Or was it throbbing? Normally, the adrenaline of a hunt didn’t make you this… this… what was this feeling? You heard Dean shout your name again. Why did he sound so strange? A warmth spread across your stomach, and you looked down to find a mess of red. Blood? Your blood. Soaking your clothes and pooling at your feet. Bewilderment washed over you as your fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade. 

Just as Dean reached your side, your legs buckled. He braced your fall and carefully lowered you to the ground.

"Sammy!" Your eldest brother’s voice was gruff and full of urgency.

Consumed with killing the leviathan, Sam had been unaware of the commotion behind him. When he turned to see you bleeding in Dean’s arms, Sam shot up and sprinted toward you. He landed hard on his knees in front of Dean.

"Just the knife?" Sam’s eyes darted rapidly up and down your trembling form, trying to assess the damage.

Not wanting to speak the words, Dean nodded, his expression telling Sam the severity of your injuries.

“The car’s too far.” Dean thought aloud.

Sam wrestled with his next move. He didn’t want to leave you. He knew your chances of surviving were slim. He heard it in Dean’s tone. He saw it on your bloodstained clothes. Still, if there was even the slightest chance of saving you, he had to try.

“I’ll see if I can catch up with the other hunters.”

Both men knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best Sam had to offer. Dean nodded reluctantly.

As your brothers’ muffled voices became more clear, so did your reality. The once dull pressure was now a searing pain. Your body screamed and your face contorted.

"Y/N, look at me.” Your eyes, wide with fear and confusion, found Sam’s. "You're gonna be okay. I’m going to get help.” 

Sam leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back, Y/N/N. I promise.”

Through a large, broken window, Dean watched Sam tear across the field and into the nearby woods. When he glanced back at you in his arms, your eyes were closed.

"Y/N, you gotta stay awake." Dean gently shook you until your gaze met his. "That's my girl."

"So tired, De." Your groggy voice begged for sleep.

"I know you are, kiddo, but I need you to keep your eyes on me.”

"Too hard,” you murmured, “Can’t do it."

"Yes you can, sweetheart." Dean was no longer able to mask his concern. "How can I help, Y/N/N? Tell me what to do."

Your brother’s desperation lifted the fog numbing your senses, and you clearly understood what you hadn’t before; you were dying. Anyone else would panic at this realization, beg their God for more time, cling to the last bit of life and fight. Not you. You woke every morning knowing this was a possibility. Saving people, hunting things; it was a dangerous road.

You weren’t bitter; no matter how menacing, your days were full of purpose, and that wasn’t something most people could say. You weren’t afraid; years of close calls had prepared you for this moment. You were, however, insurmountably saddened by the fact that Dean had to watch you die. You knew he would bear the weight of your absence completely despondent and guilt ridden. There was so much you wanted to say to ease his inevitable grief, but talking had grown increasingly difficult as words and breath eluded you. The most you could do was take the hand of solace Dean extended. You silently prayed that would be enough. 

"Tell me a story."

Dean smiled. Between your sleepy eyes and the way you were curled in his arms, it felt like you were little again.

“Have I ever told you about the day mom and dad brought you home from the hospital?”

You shook your head “No.”

“Sammy was not happy.” Dean gave a weak laugh remembering how ornery his brother had been. 

“He locked himself in his room. I tried to tell him that having a little sibling wasn’t all bad, but he wouldn’t listen. Dad had to take his door off the hinges to get him out.”

“He loves’me now.” you noted dreamily.

“He sure does.” Dean agreed, furrowing at your slurred speech. Another sign that your body was succumbing to its injuries. 

“That phase lasted less than an hour,” he continued. 

“Wha’happn’d?”

“He held you.” Dean’s voice was thick with nostalgia. “Mom convinced him. He sat in Dad’s chair, and she laid you in his lap. He wasn’t sure at first, but then you smiled.” 

Despite your pain, a contented grin eased across your face. 

“Just like that.” 

“D’d you hold me?”

Dean nodded. “You were so small, but I swear your eyes were as big and Y/E/C as they are now. I stared at you for hours. I never wanted to let you go.” I still don’t want to let you go. 

Dean paused to clear the sadness from his throat, but he was losing the battle against his emotions. He could see your eyes growing dim and feel your skin getting cold. You didn’t have much longer. 

“I love you so much, Y/N/N.” Dean’s words were short and breathless. 

“I love you too.” 

Dean pulled you closer and placed a warm hand on the side of your face. 

“De?” A small, crimson spot appeared at the corner of your mouth. “C’n I close m’eyes, now?"

At once, Dean felt everything and nothing. He knew the instant your eyes closed, he’d never see them again. He cursed himself for bringing you on such a risky hunt. He cursed himself for not keeping a better eye on you during the fight. He cursed Sam for still being gone. Not because he thought his younger brother would bring anything or anyone to save you, but because he knew how broken he’d be, returning to find his little sister asleep forever. He wanted to shake you, to scream, to do everything in his power to ensure your heavy lids didn’t fall, but he refrained. He knew this would be the last comfort he could ever give you. Dean surrendered to his heartache and let you slip from this world.

"Yeah, baby girl. You can rest now. I’ve got you.”

Masterlist

[incesthemes]

dean gets aggressively sexual in his comments about meg in 1.16 shadow immediately after finding out that sam met her while they were separated in 1.11 scarecrow, in a way that he isn't with sam's other love interest in the first half of season 1, lori in 1.07 hook man. it's rather more reminiscent of how he acted during his brief moments with jessica.

his first interaction with her is to "compliment" her boobs, right in front of sam—it feels as though he's trying to stake a claim, put her down (in her place, perhaps), assert a sense of dominance over her. in shadow, this weird, sexual fixation surfaces again with meg, and dean can't stop pressuring sam to fuck her or insinuating that sam has already fucked her.

the only noticeable difference between lori, jessica, and meg is that dean was present for the formation of the relationship with lori. but meg—sam never even mentioned her. they met when dean wasn't around, when sam was living his own life. on top of that, meg accused dean of treating sam like "luggage" and dragging him around—implying that sam would leave if he could.

comparing lori and meg, it comes off then that dean is feeling threatened here, abandoned yet again by his brother, and indeed the insults meg slings at him in the beginning of the episode resurface during their emotional conversation when sam says he plans on going back to school. meg has come to represent sam leaving him, and throughout the episode he overcompensates for his insecurity by channeling it all into this invasive sexual commentary.

what this ends up implying is that dean wants to fuck his brother.

dean’s fear of abandonment presents as such that he always feels sam is one wrong move from leaving him and going off on his own. it’s a deeply anxious attachment, and he ends up overanalyzing every interaction they have and misinterpreting any attempt on sam's part to put or maintain distance between them as total, unambiguous abandonment.

and in scarecrow, sam really did abandon him by splitting off from dean and making his way to california (or at least, that was the intent). scarecrow is the realization of dean's core fears: sam will eventually leave him, sam wants to leave him, and in the end they’re only together out of convenience.

and now dean finds out that sam met a girl while they were separated.

the conclusion he must have reached is that sam will inevitably leave him in favor of a girl: at stanford he had jessica, here he has meg. both times he and sam were apart, sam found a (pretty, blonde) girl to get close to. the girl therefore comes to represent sam's abandonment, or rather the goal of sam's abandonment: to find what dean can't give him.

because if sam secretly doesn't want to be around dean, then dean isn't providing an environment or a relationship that sam would want to be in. sam wants to leave, so dean is somehow inadequate.

that feeling of inadequacy, both in the pilot and in shadow, manifests through a sexual lens, just as sam's abandonment is represented by the girl. by putting these examples together, dean is seeing the impetus of sam's abandonment as something sexual: sam wants sex with girls (and a stable relationship beyond one-night stands), so he is leaving dean to find that. this connection is so strong to him that he's ignoring sam’s actual feelings and displacing his own biased perspective onto sam.

dean cannot fathom sam interacting with meg platonically, and this is rooted in his feelings of inadequacy and fear of abandonment. dean believes he can't satisfy sam's needs to an extent that will prevent sam from leaving him, which according to dean are sexual in nature. he can't (or won't) put out for sam, so sam is going to leave him. and to hide these fears (from sam, from himself), he gets sexually aggressive about the women who threaten to steal (or succeed in stealing) sam away from him.

or: dean won’t fuck his brother, so sam fucked off and found a girl who will.

[reveryfics]

Soul For A Soul

Pairings: Dean Winchester x gn reader

Summary: You sell your soul in order to keep Dean alive, only to return four years later after being dragged out of hell.

A/n: This was requested by @yasmin12312, she asked if could do a gender-neutral fanfic similar to "Just Pretend" hope you enjoy! Let me know if you'd all like to see more gender-neutral oneshots!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The wind whipped around the young figure, chilling them to the bone. Shivering, they stood at the crossroads, a desolate, lonely place. A figure emerged from the shadows, a serpentine smile playing on its lips. Crowley, the demon, stood before them, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Why make a deal for Dean Winchester of all people?" he asked, his voice a silky whisper.

They sighed, their breath misting in the cold air. "Because I love him," they replied, their voice barely audible above the howling wind.

The wind howled as Crowley stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "Your soul for his," he offered, his voice a mere suggestion. Without a moment's hesitation, they reached out and clasped Crowley's hand. The deal was sealed.

⎯⎯⎯

Four years. Four agonizing years since the irrevocable trade, the soul for a life. Dean Winchester, the man who had always walked the line between good and evil, now bore the weight of a different kind of darkness. The darkness of guilt, a relentless shadow that consumed him.

He blamed himself, though he knew it wasn’t his choice to make. Them, a beacon of light in his often bleak world, had sacrificed themselves for him. A selfless act that had forever altered the course of their lives.

Days bled into nights, each marked by the monotonous rhythm of whiskey bottles and the desperate pursuit of hunts. A futile attempt to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness within. His reckless behavior had ignited a fire of worry in the hearts of those who cared for him. They watched, helpless, as he spiraled downward.

One night, as he lay in the worn motel bed, the piercing ring of his phone shattered the silence. A voice, familiar yet distant, pierced through the haze. "Dean...Dean, please, I'm so scared." The words hung in the air, heavy with fear and desperation. Dean, startled from his reverie, choked back a sob. "Where are you?" he managed to croak, his voice barely a whisper.

He didn't care if it was a mirage, a trick of a fevered mind. He had to go. With a desperate urgency, he threw on his jacket and rushed out into the night. The Impala, his trusted steed, roared to life, guiding him through the darkness.

He arrived at an abandoned gas station, a relic of a bygone era. A figure, small and frail, huddled against an old phone booth, their form obscured by dirt and grime. As he drew closer, recognition dawned.

"It's you," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "It's really you." He pulled them into a tight embrace, tears streaming down his face. They clung to each other, their sobs echoing in the desolate night.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart. The young person, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and love, looked up at Dean. "I'm so sorry," they whispered, their voice barely audible. "I love you so much."

Dean, his heart heavy with sorrow and relief, managed a weak smile. "I love you too," he replied, his voice firm. "Don't ever do that again, do you understand me?"

As they stood there, under the indifferent gaze of the moon, a fragile hope flickered in their hearts. A hope that perhaps, just perhaps, they could find a way to heal, to rebuild what had been broken.

[ksfd892]

Lorelai and Luke and Rory and Jess both have the same set of relationship issues. Luke and Lorelai struggle to let people in, and Rory and Jess struggle to stay.

Luke and Lorelai are two people who had to grow up very quickly and be independent from a young age. As such, they're very defensive of the world they've created and struggle to let people in. Luke thinks it's enough to give Rachel a drawer when she stays with him and Lorelai thinks 'a thousand yellow daisies' and marriage to Max will finally make her feel loved and supported. They both realise it's not enough; Luke doesn't love Rachel the same way as he does Lorelai, and Lorelai loves the idea of Max more than the actual person. Rachel and Max haven't done anything wrong but they are not the right people for Luke and Lorelai. After these respective break-ups, Luke and Lorelai are cautious with starting to date again and hesitate to try a relationship with each other.

Rory and Jess have issues with abandonment and with being 'enough'. Rory has been told her entire life how she is special, how smart she is and how she is supposed to go to Harvard. She is Lorelai's do-over and is unable to voice the pressure she is under. To add to this, her father doesn't visit her until she is sixteen and Rory eventually learns that he is only interested in being a dad if he has a chance with Lorelai. His leaving hurts her, both when she is a kid and later when he goes back to Sherry, and Rory sees leaving or ending a relationship as the worst thing you can do (interestingly, she finds this harder to forgive than Logan cheating on her). She is so determined not to be like her parents that she is afraid to realise that she is no longer in love with Dean and has feelings for Jess. Rory bolts after kissing Jess, leaving him with the idea that she doesn't care about him at all. After they do get together and Jess leaves at the end of S3 Rory is also left with this misconception; that Jess does not care about her and she is afraid to run away with him when he asks in S4 because she no longer feels emotionally safe with him. Jess left for reasons that had nothing to do with her, such as finding his own father, but he also feels he is not 'enough'. He, like Rory, does not communicate this and so their relationship or chance of starting over breaks down.

Luke and Lorelai eventually work through this fear of being vulnerable and get married. It's less clear where Rory and Jess will end up but the door is not closed to them; Rory kisses Jess in S6 and ,although they don't get back together, they are friends by AYITL. Jess gives the advice that gets Rory back on track to who she is, as he did all those years before. Hopefully in future they try again and, this time, are willing to stay.

[dotthings]

Dean is increasingly isolated in S6. Lisa isn't returning his calls. Cas isn't returning his calls. Sam is soulless and Dean can't even stand to sit in the Impala with him. Dean has Bobby to talk to, Bobby's doing what he can, but he's not there with them, seeing how Sam is.

And then Cas shows up. With his sad eyes and his regrets about the terrible things he has to do for a greater good and keeping his secrets.

Dean called him because of the horn, then he gets annoyed Cas showed up because of the horn, instead of showing up due to Dean's worries about Sam. Dean takes all this very personally. He's let down. Disappointed. He calls Cas a dick. He wants Cas there. He needs Cas right now and Cas isn't there and a lot of Dean's fears about angels are coming to bear. "What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one."

And Cas pours Dean a drink and looks at Dean with his sad, sad eyes, and he vanishes, which further wounds Dean, but no actually, Cas is back in seconds!!! Having scoured the earth for answers about the horn, he didn't just disappear and ditch Dean after all.

When he's scared, Dean is harsh. He tells Bobby "screw him" about Cas not showing, but then look how Dean behaves once Cas is in front of him. Yes Dean is really really worried about Sam, rightly so, and it's understandable, but he's not just using Cas because he's scared on Sam's behalf. It's that he needs Cas there. It's frightening, Dean is isolated, he's being lied to, there are too many secrets, and Dean personally relies on Cas. It's still dressed up as Cas is useful for his magic angel mojo, but already it's much much more than that. And Dean is hurt and frustrated that Cas isn't there.

I get that Dean isn't handling things in the most diplomatic way, but most people wouldn't handle the stresses Dean is under very well, and there's a tendency to treat Dean as if he's being entitled and uncaring (or even claiming all he cares about is Sam) but that isn't what's going on there. And Cas is pushing the nerve of Dean's insecurities and fears--especially his abandonment issues--but we know Cas cares. He's not staying away because he doesn't care.

These two, I swear, it's one tragic irony and mutually requited unrequited mess after another omfg I love them so much.

[holylulusworld]

Love by heart

Summary: Can you and Dean work things out? What about Sam?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, arguing, insured Sam

Catch up here: Omega by nature

“Sammy?” you whisper as the tall hunter is still out cold. The shifter got him good. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it wasn’t Dean. It’s just, that we got so comfortable at the bunker that I never thought an enemy would be able to enter it.”

“Y/N,” Dean sighs deeply. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I know it’s a little too much to bear. I cleaned the bunker and got rid of the shifter.”

“It’s all my fault.” You hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I should’ve known better. I’m a hunter, an experienced one. How could the monster trick me into believing it was you? You want to mate me. Hilarious!”

You start to laugh uncontrollably. “Y/N,” his features soften, and he softly whispers your name. “It’s not your fault but mine. Shapeshifters are sneaky bastards. They tricked me and Sammy years ago too.”

“Maybe I wanted to believe him, Dean. If I can’t have the real Dean, I want to have the second-best thing. An exact clone,” you sniffle. “At least this one didn’t hunt me with a hammer.” You chuckle this time. “Demon Dean on the loose was something else.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” he runs his hand over your back. “You’re the strongest woman I ever met. No one can compare to you. Not my mother, not one of my friends, or any lover I had.”

“You only try to make me feel better,” you wipe your wet eyes. “It’s fine. Really. Please stop pitying me. I know that a woman like Cassie is more your taste. Finding the right mate is hard and maybe, I only wanted you because you were always around.”

“Sammy was always around too,” Dean argues. “Stop pretending that you didn’t hide your presentation from me to keep me from claiming you.”

“I did not! I hid my presentation since I presented,” you snap at Dean. “This had nothing to do with you, but my father and brother. I was born and raised in a clan of hunters. They had no use for an omega. A beta was fine. But an omega got abandoned and left behind.”

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he regrets his harsh words when you choke out a sob. “All these years  I made you believe that I don’t want you because I was scared of hurting. Loving a Winchester is a death sentence. Look at my mother, Jess, Lisa, and Sarah. They got killed or hurt because of us. I didn’t want the same to happen to you.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying! I tried to protect you.” Dean yells back. “Stop accusing me of being a liar. I’m anything but a liar!”

“You only rejected me because of my presentation. If not you would’ve crawled between my legs years ago! I simply didn’t do it for you!” You jump up from your seat to glare at Dean. “Admit it! Say it out loud. You’re nothing but a knothead.”

“Watch your tongue, Y/N!” Dean breathes in your face. “You should remember your place in the food chain.” He backpaddles when you backhand him.

“I dare you to say shit like that to me ever again DEAN WINCHESTER!” You growl in his direction. “No man talks like that to me and walks away with intact balls!”

“You want to hurt my balls?” His hands shoot toward his crotch to protect whatever he’s hiding in his pants. “Sweetheart that’s not nice of you to say.”

“Oh, when it comes to your balls you want me to be nice?” You snarl at the alpha. “You started this by changing the way you see me only because I’m an omega.”

“I did not! I-“ He huffs. “It’s just…you are an omega, and we could’ve been together all this time. I went through the worst ruts because you were around, but I couldn’t touch you. I was so scared of hurting you with my knot!”

“Liar, liar your pants are on fire,” you sing-song, and stick your tongue out. “Whatever kept you from being with me wasn’t fear. It was your knot!”

“Exactly!” He says. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”  Dean curses loudly and grips the backrest of the chair you were sitting on earlier. “Fuck. You make me lose my damn mind one day, omega.”

You shudder as Dean addresses you with your presentation for the first time. “You are one to talk!”

“Do you know why the shapeshifter came here?”

“I guess he wanted to kill Sam and me. We are most wanted, on top of the list of every monster,” you shrug.

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “He only came here to get you. That monster couldn’t fight his instinct because he stole my identity. He remembered every single thought I had of you. And he felt what I felt. Need. Want. Lust. Possessiveness. Lust…”

“You said lust twice,” you grumble and cross your arms over your chest.  “This doesn’t count!”

“Well, lust is important,” he smirks. “He wanted you because I want you. Luckily I came here just in time before that sonofabitch got the chance to touch you.”

“I could’ve defended myself.”

“I never once doubted that you’d defended yourself just fine.” He growls. “Can you stop arguing about everything I say? I tried to tell you that I love being there for you and to protect you. I still have nightmares of my time as a demon.”

“The hammer?” You challenge. “At least the demon had a thing for me too. Even if bringing a hammer for a date is a bit too much.”

“You hit me pretty hard with that baseball bat if I recall right,” Dean snaps back. “It felt like you tried to kill me!”

“I had to defend myself against a knight of hell!” You and Dean snarl and growl at each other.

“Guys, I appreciate you are trying to talk things out, but can you do this outside of my room,” Sam says. “I got attacked by a shifter and still got a terrible headache.”

“Sammy!” Dean and you gasp. “Sorry, Sam. We were about to…” you trial off. “Uh-you know. Dean and I will talk things out later.”

“Good.” Sam slowly sits up. “I only had to get myself almost killed to make you talk.” The hunter looks at you and his brother. “Please for the love of fuck. Go out there and do something against this tension going on between the two of you…”

Part 4

[valleydean]

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Explicit

Word count: ~118k

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest

[hopefulatrocity]

Snow And Embers

Notes: Uh so I've fallen into my Hunger Games hyperfixation again. This is just something that came to my mind while watching the movie. I needed a refresher from my TWD fic(I have not abandoned that I swear). This leans more heavily to the movie than the books, except for Lucy's eye color, I stuck to the book with that. So spoilers. NOT PROOFREAD. Also, I'm highly of the notion that Coryo did love Lucy but not all love is healthy. His bordered on obsession. And with a tendency for paranoia, it didn't end well.

Pairing: Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow (SnowBaird)

Part 2

CW/TW: Spoilers for BOSAS, darkish thoughts, ideas of claiming/possession, Smut!(18+ breeding kink, creampie, fingering, slight somnophilia, very slight inexperienced Coryo).

The first time Coriolanus and Lucy Gray  became one, it was slow and euphoric. There had been hesitation for him. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he had never been with anyone, romantically or sexually. He'd spent his life worrying about status, money, and academics. With the fragile state of his academic career due to Dean Highbottom's hatred for him, and the ever looming threat of eviction and starvation, even after the Dark Days, he hadn't had the time nor emotional ability to even attempt either. The beautiful rainbow that was Lucy Gray Baird, was the catalyst that changed everything. 

He'd been enchanted by her singing during the Reaping, and initially he thought his interest was simply hope that maybe she could be the key to his family's troubles. That she could be the one to turn his fortune around. Those thoughts turned the moment he watched Lucy Gray pluck a petal from his proffered white rose, and place it on her delicate pink tongue, the two colors contrasting and trapping his gaze. When her lips sealed around the soft sepal, his blue eyes traced the plump flesh, wondering what the skin there tasted like. Would they taste like roses? Or would it be something wholly Lucy Gray? 

He'd had to snap himself out of his trance, scolding himself for falling victim to his brain's carnal desires. He was there to be a mentor. He was there to fix his family's status and finally land on top, just like snow was supposed to. For a while this train of thought had worked. Every time his mind wandered to tanned skin and silky hair colored like the rich dark chocolate from his starvation-induced childhood dreams, he would think back to his interaction with Dean Highbottom, the threats, and the reasoning for why he was interacting with the tribute in the first place. 

It didn't help matters when Lucy Gray had threaded her fingers into his own when they went to view the arena with the other tributes and mentors. Her palm was sweaty, so was his, but the way their fingers fit together perfectly had his heart beating faster than ever before. He'd looked into her eyes and the fear there had him tightening his grip, a measure of reassurance. His inner Capitolite had reared it's head then, warning him about getting too close to her, a district girl. A tribute at that. One likely to die within the next few days. He'd dropped her hand, almost like the soft creases of her palm were instead the fangs of the snakes she so easily mastered. 

Within minutes everything had gone to ruin, the bomb had gone off, flaming rebar fell on top of him, and suddenly he knew he was going to die. He'd called for her, the dust and rubble making his throat and eyes burn. In the haze, he had seen her look towards the exit, she had a chance to escape. Surely this meant she would leave him to be engulfed by the flames on his back. But she hadn't. She had pushed away another tribute who told her to run and had gone to help him. A district girl saving the life of a Capitol boy. It was the kind of propaganda that would have made his grandma'am's heart stop. 

Lucy Gray had saved his life. He had to save hers. So he snuck his mother's poison filled compact to her in dead of night. Through the bars he had poured his heart out, not in words of love or passion but of strategy and advice for winning the games. It was all he could do. When she had leaned forward, her lips seeking his through the bars, he had pulled back in shock. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn't. If he did and she died the next day, he wasn't sure he would survive it. Internally, he promised himself that if Lucy Gray won, he would do everything he could to finally find out what she tasted like. 

And she had won, his tampering with the snakes and the compact being her lifelines. Despite the fallout from his treason, Coriolanus kept his promise to himself. He'd bribed his way to District 12, unsure if he would even be able to find his rainbow songbird. For all he knew, Gaul could have killed her. 

But then he saw her in that bar. Singing so beautifully. When her eyes met his, his heart lept and so did his cock. 

The first time they kissed, it was like the world turned on its axis and nothing else mattered but Lucy Gray. She did taste like roses, fresh and floral. And the softness of her lips balanced the slight roughness of his own. He had to leave her, return to base, but he knew that kiss was just the start of something more. Something powerful. 

Over the next few weeks, anytime he was able to sneak away from his peacekeeper duties, he was with her. Soft touches, handholding, and hugs turned to bruising grips, roving hands, and passionate kisses. Despite his inexperience, Coriolanus felt like a connoisseur of intimacy when he was with Lucy Gray. She had a bit more experience than him, the idea of another man touching his songbird made his stomach turn but he knew it wasn't something that could be changed. She guided him whenever his feelings of inadequacy crept up. She would push his hesitant hands under her skirt, letting his recently calloused fingers graze over the smooth skin of her thighs. Or press her tongue past his lips and tangle it with his own. Each step a domino collapsing and pushing him to move further with her. 

They didn't have sex until the second time they visited the cabin by the lake, that time without the Covey. By some miracle, his unit had been given a weekend of rest and he took advantage of it. As soon as they had stepped into the cabin, their lips had collided and clothes fell to the floor in a trail, leading directly to the one bed in the corner. 

Night had fallen, and the only light was a small oil lantern on the bedside table that he had briefly gotten up to light. The flickering flames danced along the contours of Lucy Gray's naked body and he stared at her sleeping form for hours. He was laying on his side, the thin blanket covering his waist, with one hand propping up his head. The short spikes of his hair tickled his palm and he thought about how Lucy Gray had tried so hard to grasp it. He wished it was longer, he could easily imagine how good it would feel to have her tugging at his long curls. 

Coriolanus’ blue eyes traveled over Lucy Gray's face. Her dark locks where sprawled over the one threadbare pillow, coiled like snakes from the arena. Occasionally her eyelashes would flutter against her cheek and she would sigh. His heart would stop for a moment, both with happiness and fear. Happiness that he would be able to see her warm gray eyes gazing up at him lovingly, but also fear to be losing that moment of retrospection. His eyes moved from her face, down her neck, and to the top of her breasts. The perfect handfuls were covered by the blanket they both shared, as was the rest of her body. She had one hand laying across her stomach, while the other was tucked under her head. 

With a mind of their own, his fingers moved out to lightly stroke the soft skin of her hand. The same ones that had stroked his cock expertly, and had teased their way across his thighs. Needing to see the rest of her, Coriolanus slowly pulled down the blanket until it was laying over her knees. Heat began to pool in his stomach as he saw goosebumps bead on her skin. Her dark nipples peaked in the chilled air and he had to stop himself from running his fingers over the pointed tips. Blue eyes caressed her stomach and moved  over the slight curve of her abdomen that led to the thick patch of curls between her legs. She had one leg bent and the other splayed out, giving him a glimpse of the heat that lay hidden by the soft hair that guarded it. Her dusky folds still glistened, even though it had been hours since he'd been inside her. But his full focus was drawn to the pearl of white that sat at her entrance. A small amount of his cum was still there and it made the animalistic part of him purr. He had cleaned between her legs with his shirt shortly after their coupling, but she was still dripping with him.  A dark part of his mind wondered if it had taken. If he had claimed her fully. 

At the time, they hadn't spoken of contraception. Not that there was much of that available anyways. The Capitol had just barely begun manufacturing any type of birth control again after the war. It was expensive and no one in the districts could afford condoms or anything like that. Even their base commander had told them to be careful during leaves. The last thing they needed was news of Peacekeepers knocking up the district women. It would only bring more rebels to their doors. 

He knew the Covey was adept with herbal remedies but he hoped that they didn't have one for this type of thing. It was shocking to him, as he hadn't spent much time thinking about the possibility of having children. His priorities had revolved mostly around the intertwining of his family's status and his education. But now here he lay, his girl by his side, wondering what it would be like to make her his own. To have his seed plant itself deep inside her. She'd be marked by him, her pregnant belly a sign that she belonged only to him. That coal rat Billy Taupe would finally understand that Lucy Gray Baird was his. No one else would dare look at her. And if they did he had no problems with killing them. 

Coriolanus painted along her skin with the tips of his fingers, gently rasping them over her puckered nipples. He stared at her breasts and wondered how big they would they get. He imagined them swollen with milk, the tips dripping and the flesh overflowing his hands. 

Lucy Gray's stomach was smooth and her hips weren't very wide, but he knew they would adjust to hold his child. The supple skin would become taut and her hips would expand to accommodate their child. Would she get stretch marks? He hoped she did. That way she'd be marked even after giving birth. A beautiful scar to remind her and anyone else who had fully claimed her body. 

Drawn again to the small bead of cum at her entrance, Coriolanus ran his fingers through her lower curls and pressed his seed back inside her warm channel with his pointer finger. A low moan escaped Lucy Gray's lips and she clenched around the thin digit. As if her body was trying to pull his seed back inside her. His chest tightened and he looked up to see if she had woken up. But her eyes were still closed. Good. He wanted a few more minutes to indulge in this fantasy. No.. not fantasy. Plan. The animal inside him refused to forget about this. It had made up its mind. Lucy Gray was his. And her body was destined to carry his child. 

Gently he removed his finger from inside her, the tip brushing against her clit and causing another moan to leave her parted pink lips. If her singing voice was perfection, her moans were solace for him.

Coriolanus lifted his small corner of the blanket and moved his body over hers, his stiff cock brushing her thighs and settling over her public hair. The slight pricking of the coarse hairs across the tip of him was shocking. He had to stop himself from thrusting against her, seeking more friction. His body was still inexperienced, still desperate for any touch. 

His nose brushed hers and his fists caged either side of her face. 

“Lucy Gray….”

The rasp of  his voice saying her name vibrated across her lips. She woke slowly, the look of sleep and pleasure keeping her lids drooping. As soon as she realized what had woken her up, a small smile crossed her face. 

“Coryo.”, she brushed her lips against his. His name sounded like a possession. He didn't want anyone else to say his name. Just like her body belonged to him, his name was hers alone. The twitching of his cock against her slit had her pressing her hips up to tease him. He pushed forward a bit, notching himself at her entrance, her still dripping cunt practically begging him to thrust into her. Lifting one of his hands, he cupped her cheek, and stroked his tumb over the apple tenderly. Her gray eyes latched onto his own, both searching for something unknown in his gaze. 

“Mine,” he whispered it, almost lovingly, but with a note of passion and mastery. A declaration of his possession, daring her to contradict him. 

Lucy Gray nodded her head minutely, and  placed a ghost of a kiss on his chin. Those lips that had bewitched him from the moment he saw them wrapping around that rose petal were soft as silk. Since then he had found that she truly did taste of roses and something smokey, like embers. 

Drunk on his floral scent and the need to be filled, she whispered, “Yours, Coryo.”

Darkness clouded Coriolanus’ light blue eyes and she gasped as he thrust to the hilt inside her. The tip of his cock brushed the entrance to her womb and her channel began to pulse around him. Begging him to fill her. Lucy Gray's body instinctively knew what it needed from him. 

She wasn't fully his. Not yet. But she would be by the end of the night.