#father-in-law John winchester

[delicatenightfury]

Hard Truths

2022 Month of Writing: Day 18

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, platonic!John Winchester x reader

Prompt:

Word Count: 1,180

Author's Note: please don't steal my work! you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

“So, you’re Dean’s fiance.”

y/n glanced over her shoulder. John Winchester was standing at the entrance of the room, observing her as she looked through case files and research. It was so weird having him around. He had been dead for nearly thirteen years. She had known him briefly before he had died, having been one or two hunts with the Winchester boys when they interacted with their dad.

Now, the brothers were out on a grocery run to get ingredients for Mary’s casserole. That left y/n alone in the bunker with their parents. Both of them. Alive and well. To say it was a little awkward was probably an understatement.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I, uh, noticed the ring earlier. When did he propose?”

“He asked about two years ago. Being a hunter doesn’t really allow a lot of room for financial stability, so he didn’t officially get the ring until recently.”

John smiled a little.

“Nice to know he’s finally settling down.”

y/n couldn’t help but nod.

“I never thought it would happen. We’ve both seen what hunting does to people, especially married couples. But I’m glad he finally asked.”

“So when did you start hunting with them?”

“About ten, eleven years ago. It started as an occasional thing, maybe the same hunt every couple of weeks or months, before it started becoming more frequent. Sam was the one that invited me to stay.” She paused and sat back in her chair, casting a glance toward John. “I actually went on two hunts with you and the boys.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“First one I was hunting a demon in Chicago before Dean and Sam showed up. Turned out to be a demon controlling a group of Daeva. Next hunt was weeks later. We had just wrapped up one when they heard from a friend of yours. You were on the same job, which ended up also being a vampire hunt.”

John took a moment to observe her posture, and replayed her words in his mind.

“I take it that things didn’t go smoothly?”

“I mean, we got thrown around a lot.”

“I meant between the two of us.”

y/n shook her head, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

“No, smooth is probably the last word I’d use to describe it. We were civilized, but I definitely had my opinions.” She glanced at him, surprised to see that he seemed to be expecting more. “What?”

“What were your thoughts?”

“On you? You want me to tell you what my first thoughts about you were?”

He shrugged.

“Only if you’re willing.”

She looked at him for several moments, debating whether or not to actually tell him her thoughts.

“Well,” she started. She paused to give John room to back out, but he only looked at her expectantly. “To put it simply, I thought you were a dick.”

John ducked his head with a small smile. It made y/n relax a little.

“That right?”

“Oh yeah. You were so determined to kill the thing that got Mary, I could see it in your eyes when you talked about it. And I knew that that drive was what made you a good hunter. But I also saw the effect it had on your sons. The minute they saw you, their posture and personality changed. They looked more like soldiers. And after you left the first time, I could see how desperately they wanted to help you.

“Then when you came around the second time, you were still so sure to keep them in the dark. You claimed to be protecting them, yet you let them travel all across the country hunting monsters and saving people. God, I almost snapped at you during that hunt.”

y/n bowed her head and rubbed her forehead. She could picture the arguments she heard between Sam and John. She remembered how much she wanted to butt in and snap back, maybe even punch him. But it hadn’t been her place. She had stayed as far removed as she could during those moments.

“You turned your war into theirs,” she eventually continued. “So much so that they never really knew anything other than hunting. They had to grow up too quickly. Dean at least tried to make sure that Sam had a decent childhood. But Dean had to grow up too fast because you told him that it was his responsibility to watch over Sam and to keep him safe. He had to play mother and father to his little brother because you were too busy hunting. And I get that that’s the hunter’s life, but you dropped the ball on your responsibilities as a father.

“Believe me, I understand what it means to be a hunter and to have that drive to take out the darkness in the world. But there were two little beacons of light just waiting to shine, and they never did except for each other. You had a hand in making them the hunters they are, John, but not a lot in making them the men they’ve become. You let other people do that for you.”

She finally cast a glance at John. She expected him to be angry, annoyed, questioning who she was to judge his parenting. What she hadn’t been expecting was John staring right at her, nodding his head slightly with tears in his eyes.

“You’re not wrong,” he said. “I know I messed up and dropped the ball when it came to the two of them.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t love them, John,” y/n said. “I know you did. That’s clear as day to me with you being here. And you kept them safe when it mattered. You probably did the best you could, raising two boys on your own. But I’ve seen how tired the two of them get sometimes.”

John sighed and ran his hand over his head, sinking into a nearby chair.

“I never wanted for them to continue to live this life. Sam almost got out, going to college and everything. I heard Dean almost did too.”

“They’ve both tried. Almost succeeded too. But life just kind of dragged them back in.”

John nodded. He lifted his head to smile slightly at her.

“Seems like Dean’s trying to settle down again though.” The two glanced down at her ring and smiled. “Have you talked about what you’ll do?”

“We’re eventually going to try and step away. Maybe find a place close to the Bunker, find normal jobs. We might pick up a hunt every now and then, depending on what it is and the distance. But any choice that relates to hunting, we’ve agreed to talk about. We plan on talking Sam into taking a step back too.”

John smiled again, reaching over to pat his hand on her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze

“Dean’s a lucky guy,” he said. You’re gonna make a hell of a Winchester.”

y/n blushed. She hadn’t expected that response. She smiled at him.

“I’m certainly gonna try my best.”

A/N: I was expecting there to be more Dean in this. Oops!

[sammygender]

to me john winchester is like. worst man alive. just wants to do right by his family. cares about his sons more than anything in the world but puts them in life-threatening danger every single day. hubris and arrogance of a god and never believes they will actually die despite the fact that he also has the paranoia and terror and deep intense mistrust of the world of eight year old me. treats both his sons like his soldiers, his eldest son like his surrogate wife/best friend/coparent/counsellor, his youngest son like the troubled-drug-addict-bad-boyfriend problem child miles before he ever actually does anything problematic to john and even then just because he has hobbies and wants to go to college.

wants them to be happy and themselves and have good lives, but thinks he needs them to be mini-him and good at fighting and not much else, and that takes priority. 'wants' all sorts of good things for them but just keeps postponing those good things until he avenges their mother until in a second their childhood's gone by. feels deep immeasurable guilt for everything he's done and knows he's ruined his children's lives. damages them in a hundred different ways, one third that he realises at the time and decides to do anyway, another third that he's unaware of at the time and realises later, and the last third that he'll never realise and never take back.

loves them miles too much and still not enough for it to matter. teaches them both that they're the only things that matter in the world and that they don't matter at all. still fervently believes that everything he did was for the best and was needed and had to be done, and always will.

[billiewena]

FOUR YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020, as summed up by Supernatural

past recaps: year one / year two / year three / year four

full context and sources below:

various explanations + resources/sources/extra reading on this year's recap:

balls deep: misha collins says the quiet part out loud at Cross Roads 8 Supernatural Convention, saying "if the CW wasn't so homophobic dean and cas would've been balls deep for sure" at a con (x) (x) (x)

garthbenny canon: supernatural actors DJ Qualls (who played hunter-turned-werewolf Garth Fitzgerald) and Ty Olsson (who played the vampire Benny Lafitte) reveal they're married, delighting crack shippers like myself everywhere (x)

spn spooky picture book: official supernatural children's picture book is released, retconning things like john winchester as a happy father figure and castiel being their cowardly childhood friend who sorta hangs around (x) (x)

boop button: tumblr introduces a feature people enjoy for once for april fool's day and halloween and allows users to boop each other, spn bloggers re-awake like sleeper agents to use it in full force (x) (x)

bedlund speaks on destiel: former spn writer ben edlund goes on a tweet fest replying to fans, talking about destiel multiple times including this profound tweet (x)

clear text, not subtext: jensen speaks out again on the confession at Purcon 8, this time taking a more open stance on how the relationship was textual, his take on dean's feelings about cas's feelings, and how the scene with cas deserved a resolution (x)

bury your gays: famed author chuck tingle (known for his plethora of highly specific and delightfully inclusive, if strange, indie erotica novels) publishes his second mainstream horror novel, inspired by TV network studios' infamous history of censoring LGBT relationships and openly killing off queer characters. In a non-subtle nod to supernatural fans, the main character is named misha. (sidenote: did end up reading this and this book is actually really good commentary on the industry in general and really good, 10/10 recommend) (x) also someone got the book signed by misha, to further break the fourth wall (x)

tracker: jensen ackles begins starring in a CBS show where he is basically csoplaying dean winchester, with the show featuring many non-subtle spn references (i.e. him pretending to almost get in an impala before going to his truck, characters wearing spn necklaces, etc.) (x) (x) (x) (special shout-out to clarice @youre-only-gay-once for expertly tracking the tracker show and these easter eggs, highly recommend their tag for their show)

cw's walker cancelled: fans rejoiced upon hearing the cancellation news for jared's post-supernatural show, walker, a remake of "walker texas ranger." in addition to generally being a copaganda show for the notoriously racist texas rangers, jared's inspiration for the show's direction caused much concern. the actor himself said the show was inspired by the US border crisis, not by the immigrant families affected by the separation and internment, but instead wanting exploring the POV of the law enforcement agents working at the border and the moral dilemmas they had to face (x)

pro-destiel Wonder Woman: Lynda Carter (aka the iconic and beloved original actress for Wonder Woman, not the z*onist one) says she could "go for some Destiel" when promoting #GeeksandNerdsforHarrisWalz and Misha's involvement (x) the rest of the spn cast and original Showrunner Kripke were also a big part of this event

chili's backfire: the chain restaurant chili's drags destiel while interacting with 9-1-1 bucktommy shippers on twitter, immediately gets backfire. notably, their stock takes a dip the next day. coincidence? maybe so, maybe not (x) (x)

samgirl voting fraud: "who is the gayest spn character" tumblr poll surprisingly gets heated, with a blogger straight-up admitting they used a bot on the "castiel vs. sam" poll to rig the poll in sam's favor, which they apparently also did for w*ncest in another poll in the past, and posting a guide on how anyone could do the same. luckily democracy wins in this one instance and castiel prevails anyways, leading to an also contested "castiel vs. charlie bradbury" round (x) (x)

pink pony jarpad: jared is spotted at lesbian pop star chappell roan's set at a festival, un-likely place for him to be (x) also may have been one of the "boring" people called out by chappell? (x)

pro-kamala castiel: in a last-ditch effort to get out the vote, misha uses the power of castiel photo ops to campaign for harris-walz and even shouts-out destiel. I feel depressed writing this sentence, if you've made it this long in your read and you're in the states I hope you're doing alright! maybe by the time I wake up things will be a little different though. (x)

[reigningqueenofwords]

Forgiven

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,530 Request: @jessicalynnann Okay when you have time how about Dean is a cop and he and the reader are established well she thinks Dean is pulling away cause he is working a lot and there is a new partner who is pretty. Well she and Mary are shopping and she breaks down and tells Mary that she thinks she is losing Dean. Well what about there is a robbery where the reader works and she gets hurt and Dean risks his life to save her. I had this dream last night. Can you make the ending something like this I love you so much but I guess I’m doing this here. And he gets down on one knee… no rush.

Read on AO3

You’d been with Dean nearly 7 years. You were by his side all through the academy, and when he got his badge. Things had been really good, and while there’d been no proposal or talk of a family, you felt you were on the way. One day you knew you’d call Dean your husband, and the father of your children.

And then Dean’s hours went up. Fine. He was busy. That happened. However, after the first couple weeks of the new hours you felt like Dean wasn’t your Dean. When he would crawl into bed he was out. No pulling you close, no holding you. Instead of eating breakfast with you (on the mornings he was there at the same time), he’d grab something on the way to work. You couldn’t remember the last time he had taken you on a date, either. Or surprised you with flowers ‘just because’.

After a month of this, you found out that he had a new partner. He hadn’t even told you. You’d met her at the cookout he and a few of his coworkers had now and then. It was them, and their significant others. She had walked up to you, a big smile on her (too beautiful) face. “You must be Y/N! I’m Kelly.” She held out her hand, clearly excited to meet you.

You shook it, not wanting to be rude. “Nice to meet you. Are you dating one of the guys?” You knew a couple of them were single, so maybe they had met someone?

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, I’m Winchester’s new partner.” She chuckled. New partner ? What happened to his old partner? “For about a month now.” She moved to stand next to you. 

“I honestly didn’t know he had a new partner.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed. “He hasn’t talked much about work recently.” 

“It does get really busy.” She nodded, a tension settling between the pair of you. “The guys have been so welcoming, too.” 

Her bubblynes was so odd to you. Not in general, but at this moment. How could she not feel the awkwardness? That you clearly had no idea that she even existed before today? “They’re all great.” You agreed. “I always look forward to catching up with all of them at the cookouts. I haven’t been able to have any of them over for dinner lately.”

“Oh, if I would have known I would have invited you when I had everyone over last Wednesday.” She shook her head. 

“Everyone? Was Dean there?” Your heart clenched. Dean said he had work, so just make yourself something. Was that ‘work’ spending time with the guys at Kelly’s?

She nodded. “Yeah, him, Cas, Sam…most of the guys.” She shrugged. “We hung out for a couple hours, had some beers.” You couldn’t be angry at Kelly. She didn’t know that she was pouring salt in your wounds. 

Dean came over, grinning. He had a beer in one hand, and a plate in the other. “Hey, babe. I see you met Winters.” He said happily. “I told you you’d get along.” 

You gave him a funny look. “You never told me about her.” You said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you had a new partner. She is nice, though.” That was something you couldn't deny. It still didn’t alleviate you feeling off about the entire situation. “Oh, I see Donna. I’m gonna go say hi. I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever.” You excused yourself, rushing to talk to her. 

Chuckling, Dean watched you go, sipping his beer. 

A couple weeks later, you were lounging when Mary texted you. Up for some shopping with your mother in law? You sighed at her wording. Mary and John were like your second parents, and you adored them. Would you lose them, too?

Always! Let me shower and get ready. Want me to meet you at the mall? You got up, making your way to your room. 

I’ll pick you up in half an hour :) She replied. 

You felt you’d done well hiding how you were feeling, but when you were in the second store, Mary brought it up. “You seem to have something on your mind, do you want to talk about it?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “I can get it if it’s Dean being a cop. I mean, John just retired. Every day I worried about him coming home.” 

“I think I’m losing him.” You admitted, tearing up. Quickly wiping your cheek, you focused on the dresses you were looking at. “I can get long hours, but it’s him feeling gone even when he’s home. He doesn’t pull me close anymore, doesn’t take me on dates, doesn’t surprise me with flowers, or anything. And have you met his new partner?” 

Mary shook her head. “No, I’ve heard he’s good, though.” 

“ She’s gorgeous.” You huffed. “I can barely get him to eat dinner with me, but one night he told me he had to work and just to make dinner for myself. He was at her house with some of the guys hanging out for a couple hours. And having dinner. I hate feeling so insecure and like he’d rather be with her.” 

She pulled you into a hug. “Dean loves you so much.” She tried. “I don’t know what’s going on with him.” 

You hugged her back, welcoming the comfort. “I might go stay with my parents for a few days. I don’t think he’d even notice.” Which hurt even worse. 

“Our house is closer to your job. You can come stay with us.” She pulled back to look at you, hands on your arms. “John will love having you around, too.” 

After a moment, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Let’s finish up this shopping, and then I’ll go pack a bag. I’ll make dinner tonight. It’s been a bit since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself.” That alone gave you something to look forward to. 

Dean got home just after 11 that night, and wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. There was no sign in the first floor of the house that anything was different. He toed off his shoes, hung his belt on the coat rack, and made his way to the kitchen. Sometimes he got lucky and there were leftovers from dinner that night. When he didn’t see anything, he assumed that there hadn’t been anything left over. 

After he had a quick sandwich and a glass of milk, he made his way upstairs. He froze when he noticed the bed was still made. You weren’t in it. His nightstand lamp was on, and there was a paper folded against it. Walking over to it, he sat on the bed and lifted the paper. Did you leave him? It took him a moment for him to open it. 

Dean- 

I’m staying with your parents for a few days while I do some thinking. We’ve been together almost 7 years. 7 years in two weeks, actually. Did you have any idea that our anniversary was coming up? 

I barely see you, and when I do? You aren’t even *here*. It’s like you’re somewhere else. When you started working more, I understood. Your job is important, which meant the times you were home would mean more. Instead, those times hurt worse. 

When was the last time you held me at night? When was the last time you held my hand? Took me on a date? Cuddled with me while watching a movie (even if you fell asleep, I would be over the moon for that time with you)?  

Do you know how badly it hurt to want you home for dinner now and then, just to find out you went to your new partner’s for dinner? A new partner I didn’t know about, might I add. You’d rather go spend time with your gorgeous new partner than make it home for one dinner with the woman who has been by your side for everything, and that says a lot. 

I’m not saying I’m leaving you, but I do need to figure some things out. 

I love you, Dean. 

-Y/N 

He clenched his jaw as tears rolled down his cheeks. Looking back, he knew this wasn’t out of left field. He knew what you were talking about. He’d seen the hurt on your face lately, too. He’d pushed it away, though. He’d told himself it was something else. It wasn’t about him. Dean sniffed, opening up his night stand drawer to pull out the tiny black box he’d put in there two months prior. Lifting the lid, he looked down at the ring he’d bought you, and wondered if he missed his chance. All he saw when he pictures his life was you by his side, and probably a kid or two. You’d be a great mom. 

“Fuck.” He breathed. He had an early shift the next day, so he’d go straight to you after work.

It stung when you woke up to no texts or missed calls from Dean. You knew that by now he would have gotten your note. Unless he didn’t go home last night . The thought caught you off guard. He’d never not come home. Even if he came home late. Pushing those thoughts from your head, you got ready for work. You worked at a high end jewelry store, and had been promoted to manager 6 months prior. It paid well, and you liked all the people you worked with. 

Dean hadn’t slept well the night before, and knew he’d be powering through his shift with a lot of (bad) coffee. He also wanted to talk to his chief about cutting back his hours, even just an hour here and there. Anything to be with you more. If he even had you more. 

It was nearly 4 when he was alerted to a robbery. At your job. “Shit!” He flipped on the sirens and lights before speeding off. He was only a few minutes away, but it felt like ages before he pulled up in front of it. He could see through the glass, where you were being held at gunpoint. The only other worker wasn’t someone he recognized, so he assumed they were new. What a way to start a job! 

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?” Kelly asked as they parked. 

“Yes, it is.” His voice was betraying him. He was trying to sound calm, but he felt like he’d lose it at any moment. “I’m going around back.” He told her. 

She whipped her head to look at him. “What? Why not wait for backup? Can you even get in?” 

“I can’t wait and risk her getting shot.” He pulled off his jacket. “And I can. I know the code. She’s the manager, so she told me.” Did you have a gut feeling he’d need it at some point? 

“And do what in there? I can see the door to the back of the store. Which means he can.” She opened her door to get in place. 

“I can distract him. Or maybe I can talk him down from inside. The storefront has bullet proof glass. She was really excited when it was installed. It’s supposed to be basically unbreakable.” He explained. 

“This isn't procedure!” She tried. However, she watched him rush around the back, gun drawn. “Damn in, Winchester!” She hissed, hearing other cops arriving.

You were shaking, tears in your eyes, while the man in front of you aimed his gun at you. You’d heard the cops pull up, but that didn’t seem to phase him one bit. Someone must have called, because you didn’t even have a chance to trigger the silent alarm. He had to know that there was no getting out of this without being arrested, right? 

The door next to you busted in, making you and Alice scream. The robber whipped his gun towards the door. The door blocked whoever it was from view, but only a few people had the code. You quickly looked out the front of the store and saw Kelly. But no Dean. 

Just as it registered that your boyfriend was the one that came in, you heard two gunshots. The robber went down, and you rushed to the door. “Dean!” You sobbed, pulling off your blazer to press it against his chest. “Oh God.” Moving, you rested his head on your lap as you could hear people rushing into the store.

Dean hissed in pain as you kept pressure on his chest. “Fuck, I didn’t want to do it like this, but I gotta ask. I love you more than anything. Will you marry me? Your ring is in my nightstand.” He wanted you to know, just in case he didn’t make it. 

You nodded. “Of course I’ll marry you.” The feelings of the past month or so were pushed from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that Dean had been shot. “I love you so much.” You sniffed. 

“Ma’am, we need to get him into an ambulance.” Came a voice. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You gently moved his head off your lap so you could get out of their way. You watched as they got him onto a stretcher. 

You’d stopped at home on the way to the hospital. You wanted to put on your ring, so when Dean woke up, he saw you wearing it. You also knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him right away. Mary had already been called, and told you that they would meet you at the hospital. 

Once there, you didn’t keep track of how much time you had been sitting there. All you could do is stare at the double doors that a doctor would come out of to talk to the family of Dean Winchester. John held Mary’s hand, both worried for their eldest. Sam was currently at work- at the police station, oddly enough. There was no telling when Dean’s coworkers would come flooding into the waiting room. 

“Dean Winchester’s family?” A doctor called out. You, John, and Mary stood. “Hi, I’m Dr. Micheals. Surgery went well, and he’s awake now. Groggy, but awake. For now I’ll ask that you go see him one at a time.” He gave you a comforting smile. 

“Go.” Mary nudged you. “We’ll see him after.” 

Nodding, you followed the doctor to Dean’s room. “Thank you.” You said softly before stepping in. 

“Hey, babe.” He smiled. 

While a few tears had slipped out while you waited, hearing his voice broke the dam. Sobbing, you went over and gently kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You cupped his cheek. 

“You’re stuck with me. For life.” He gave you that smirk that he knew just melted you. “I’m sorry about this past month. I had planned to talk to the chief after my shift about cutting back my hours some.” He rested his hand on your leg as you sat on the side of his bed. “And I know I’ll be on leave while I heal. So, I’m all yours. I’m not leaving your side.”

You smiled at that. “Alls forgiven.” You promised him. 

[prentissluvr]

literary parallels — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : light angst, fluff ➖⟢ cw : small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn't matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that's exactly where you find him. i plan on doing a part two for this one in the future! :))

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

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin. 

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford. 

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him. 

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.” 

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again. 

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high. 

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already. 

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

[wellofdean]

I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

[zepskies]

The Boys S4: Is it just me or...

Okay, anyone who knows me knows I love this show. And I don't mean to be overly critical, but...there's something missing for me in season 4. 🤔

Episode 4 brought me back in a bit more this week, but I have thoughts and just wanted to get them out. Which of course you don't have to agree with, if you so choose to dive below the cut. 😂

So here we go! Highlights and lowlights (and **spoilers**): ⤵️

Sorry in advance for my slightly stream of conscious-style thought process.

Lowlights (so far):

Kimiko x Frenchie: Violently pushing down something you built up for 2.75 seasons? Because "being more than that/family" can also be romantic? Why do you hate the fans, Kripke? 😂

The political "satire" is getting a bit old for me. A lot of the same jokes over and over. However, the problem of taking out Victoria Neuman is a very intriguing conundrum (and Bob Singer sweating over it while trying to keep supes out of the military/law enforcement is keeping me hooked).

THAT Rob scene: lmfao come on now. This was for gross shock value and nothing else. Even the exploding dick and Love Sausage in S3 served a narrative purpose. (But I enjoyed the footnote commentary while watching it on Prime: Rob B. apparently wants to remind everyone that he's a Shakespearean-trained actor. 🤣) I’m actually more disappointed that he didn’t have a more meaningful role in the show, because he really is a fantastic actor and I was looking forward to seeing what his character would bring. (Not that lmao.)

Overall, the season just feels...emptier than seasons 1-3? Maybe that has to do with the lack of Soldier Boy's gravitas as a new antagonist, and connecting the entire narrative and various conflicts of the season -- all while shedding light on the grisly past of Payback, Grace Mallory, and Stan Edgar. Stormfront also brought that ante up in season 2 in a similar way, all while shedding light on Vought's sordid history with the creation of Compound V.

We're missing the layers here in season 4. Now, this could just be because we haven't seen the full season yet as well, but that's what I see so far.

I think it also has to do with the odd dynamic the boys side is in right now. With Butcher on the fringe of the group, and the others splintered off on their own side plots, it feels like the supes' side of things are more...for lack of a better term, "unified" in the narrative.

Which I realize is probably to reverse parallel the state of each side in season 3. But it just feels "off" to me somehow, since we're supposed to be just as invested in the boys side lol.

Highlights:

Butcher and Ryan: Butcher's doing his best there now, and it soothes my heart.

Ryan's slowly seeing the consequences of his choice to join Homelander. In fact, I'm wondering where Ryan is in episode 4. Hiding in his room?

The Khan Worm that appears to be inside Butcher is both frightening and intriguing. I wonder if this is the key to saving his life? Or just another lovely side effect of taking V24 long term. 🐛

JDM (Joe) and Butcher: All their scenes were golden. And that subtle John Winchester reference? Being willing to train up his son to be a killer? Being able to grieve at his son's funeral, knowing he "saved the world?" *Chef's kiss* 🤌🏽

(And if Butcher or Joe end up being the one to break Soldier Boy out of his cryo coffin, my fangirl heart will freak TF out. 🤣)

The way that Homelander is noticing his age is fucking hilarious. Bet you wish you had that life longevity from your father/sperm donor, dont'cha? 😂

But also the way Homelander "confronted" his past in E4 had some truly WTF/Holy Shit™️ moments, in a good way. As in, I'm once again afraid of this unhinged psychopath--kind of way. 😅

A-Train continuing to struggle internally with the place he's fought so hard to keep in the Seven, versus recognizing the evil around him, his own complicity, wanting forgiveness from Hughie, and wanting a true connection with others (namely his family).

It's interesting that Hughie's mom is being brought back in at this time. And even MORE interesting that she seems to be the one who gave her ex-husband Compound V. Her story of why she left her family seemed so normal that I actually got a little suspicious of her. But now, even more so. 🤨

M.M. doing his fucking best. (Except for the way he suddenly had a change of heart about Butcher in E4. Not sure about that one.)

Tilda effing Swinton voicing Ambrosius. PLEASE. My Queen. 😭🤣🤣

I actually had more lowlights before I watched episode 4. There were some really interesting moments that literally had me gasping in shock (this time in a good way), more so than in the first 3 episodes. However, I still think seasons 1-3 were stronger from the get-go.

But even with my lingering reservations, now I'm actually more so looking forward to getting into the meat of the season in this second-half coming up. 👏🏽

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (Prologue)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, sadness, rejection, Mary being a bitch, sleazy John

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Live was great. The man you loved proposed to you in the most romantic way. And later, you made love in his old Chevy Impala. The only girl he loved as much as he loved you; according to Dean.

Butterflies still fluttered in your stomach whenever he looked at you.

Everything was fine, great even. Until he invited you for a family dinner to get to know the rest of his family.

You already knew his younger brother. Sam was easy to be around. 

Dean never talked much about the rest of his family. All you knew was his mother came from old money, and his father was a made man. 

The moment you stepped into Mary Winchester’s house, your relationship with Dean was doomed.

Not only did she ignore you for most of the day, but she always invited Dean’s first love, the girl next door. The one and only Lisa Braeden.

You knew that Dean never got over her and accepted that he had a past. Everyone has a past, right?

It felt like someone stabbed you in the back and ripped your heart out at the same time.

But you never were a quitter. Instead of sulking in a corner and watching your fiancé talk to his ex, you decided to remind him what he’s going to lose if he doesn’t get his shit together.

“No, wait. He’s my man. His mother can’t do this to me,” you cursed under your breath." Dean was your man, he even proposed to you. His family just didn’t know yet. “I’ll beat you with your own weapons, bitch.”

You walked back upstairs, entered the room you shared with Dean, and threw on your most sexy dress, killer heels, and no underwear. – To hell with the girl next door. 

When you walked back down you put on a faked smile and confidently entered the living room again.

Your eyes scanned the room for you man only to watch Dean still talk to Lisa. They laughed, and she touched his arm, giggling like he said the funniest thing she ever heard.

You saw red but didn’t want to act like a jealous bitch in heat. So, you took a deep breath and brushed your concerns off.

“A nice party, huh?” Dean’s father stood a little too close for comfort. “Can’t believe my son got his hands on someone like you.”

John Winchester stank like booze and desperation. You assumed he didn’t get any from the ice queen his wife seemed to be.

“Mr. Winchester,” you excused yourself to walk toward Dean. 

You stopped in your tracks and took another deep breath. Dean ignored you calling his name, even when you put your hand on his shoulder. “Dean, I’m a little tired and I got a terrible headache.”

He didn’t react, too engrossed in listening to what Lisa had to say.

“Later,” he grumbled and didn’t even spare you a glance.

You knew there and then that Dean wasn’t ready to marry you.

Maybe you only were a rebound to him. A woman he could use until Lisa came back into the picture thanks to his mother.

“I thought you have changed. Dean, I believed you moved on from sleeping around when we met. Please don’t prove all the people telling me not to marry you right,” you grabbed his hand and tried to make him face you. 

“Y/N, not now,” he didn’t even hear what you said and waved you off. “Later.”

“Please…We need to talk Dean…it’s not only us any longer,” you whispered the words not daring to speak any louder.

You dropped his hand and stepped away, catching the attention of his whole family when you turned around to run upstairs.

You cried for what felt like an eternity when it was only a few minutes.

Sam came by after the scene you made in your opinion, but you didn’t open the door.

“I don’t know what to do now,” you wiped your eyes and choked out a sob. Dean changed so fast only because that woman was around. He didn’t act like the man you fell in love with that night.

It took all the strength left in you to change clothing again and pack up all your belongings. If he didn’t come to his senses tonight, maybe tomorrow when he found you gone.

You hastily wrote a few lines, and placed the piece of paper on the bed, along with your engagement ring.

Rereading the lines you choke out another sob.

One night of passion, a life-long responsibility. This is your decision. Are you in or out?  I got a job offer in London and will accept it if you don’t want to be a father yet (or at all).  If you are still the man you made me believe you are, call me tomorrow. If not, have a nice life…

Part 1

[bigfan-fanfic]

Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years)  maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

[raspberryslxt]

Y/N x Sam Winchester

-

SUMMARY: you are Sam’s gf, you are a happy couple who are studying law, but what happens when his older brother returns home?

-

Dean Winchester barreled down the road in his beloved Impala, heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. He hadn't seen his brother, Sam, in two years. Now, he needed his help. Their father, John Winchester, was missing, and the family business of hunting supernatural creatures couldn't afford another casualty.

Pulling up to Stanford University, Dean took a deep breath. He hoped Sam wouldn't be too resistant to joining him. Sam had left the life of hunting to pursue a normal life, and Dean respected that, but circumstances demanded a reunion.

"Sam!" Dean called as he barged into the apartment.

Sam Winchester turned to face his brother, surprise written all over his face. "Dean? What are you doing here?"

"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean explained, worry evident in his voice.

Sam's face fell. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm here. I need your help to find him."

Sam hesitated, glancing at his girlfriend, Y/N, who had entered the room upon hearing the commotion. "Dean, I have a life here. I can't just drop everything."

You stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Sam's arm. "Sam, if your dad's in trouble, you need to help him. We can figure things out together."

Dean nodded approvingly. "She is right. Just for a few days, Sammy."

Reluctantly, Sam agreed, but you insisted on coming with the brothers, Sam told you everything about his past so it was nothing new to hear. Sam was sceptical and worried about your safty, but in the end the brothers agreed and you three set off to get to the case

The case led them to Jericho, California. Dean and Sam quickly fell into their old rythm of hunting, while you adapted pretty quickly.

As they delved deeper into the case, they discovered the legend of a Woman in White, a vengeful spirit of a woman named Constance Welch. She lured men to their deaths, driven by the pain of her own betrayal.

One night, as they staked out the haunted stretch of road, the Woman in White appeared. She targeted Sam, sensing his vulnerability. Y/N, not one to be left behind, intervened, using a mixture of courage and knowledge from John Winchester's journal to ward off the spirit.

"Sam, Dean, salt and iron!" she shouted, tossing a canister of salt to Sam.

With Y/N’s help, they managed to temporarily dispel the spirit. However, they knew it was only a matter of time before she returned. They needed to find Constance's remains and put her to rest.

The clues led them to Constance's abandoned house. Inside, they found her children’s remains hidden in a wall, revealing the tragic truth of her story. Constance had drowned her children in a fit of madness before taking her own life. Her spirit was bound to the area, forever reliving her grief and rage.

As they prepared to salt and burn the remains, the Woman in White appeared, more powerful and vengeful than ever. She attacked, throwing Sam across the room. Dean and Y/N fought bravely, but it was Sam who ultimately confronted the spirit.

"You don't have to do this," he pleaded. "You can rest now."

Constance wavered, her rage giving way to sorrow. In that moment of vulnerability, Sam, Dean, and Y/N completed the ritual, releasing her spirit and ending her torment.

With the case solved, Sam faced a difficult decision. He had rediscovered his skills as a hunter and recognized the importance of their mission. Y/N, too, had proven herself as a capable ally. They both understood that the supernatural world posed a threat that couldn't be ignored.

"Dean, I'm coming with you," Sam said, determination in his eyes. "But I want Y/N to stay safe."

You shook her head, her resolve unwavering. "No, Sam. I'm in this with you. We can make a difference together."

Dean grinned, proud of his brother and impressed by yours bravery. "Welcome to the family business, Y/N."

The trio drove off into the night, the Impala's engine roaring as they embarked on a new journey. Together, they would face the darkness, hunting monsters and protecting the innocent. The Winchesters, now joined by Y/N, were stronger than ever, ready to face whatever the supernatural world threw at them.

As they sped down the road, the stars above bore witness to a new dawn in the fight against the forces of darkness. The Winchester legacy continued, now with an unexpected but formidable ally by their side.

[hawkeyetrained]

Step Away From Him, Now

Dean Winchester x Fem!reader established relationship (nothing too detailed)

Other Characters: Sam Winchester (barely there), John Winchester

Warnings: canon violence (kinda?), language, mention of wounds, blood, wendigo mention, arguing, that’s it I think?

Summary: She's finally had enough of John treating Dean so horribly

A/N: This is kinda my take on how Dean used to talk about his dad. Probably made John out to be a little worse than he really was, but I always saw him as someone who pushed Dean to his limits when they hunted together

Word Count: 2712

John Winchester. Everyone in the hunting world knew that name. Winchester. Now, his sons Sam and Dean held the legendary last name in all the stories that were passed around.

John had been married to Mary, an amazing woman with hunter parents, who had wanted nothing more than to get out of the life she knew. She wanted to run as far as she could from the world of monsters and have a normal life with a husband who loved her and maybe a few little babies along the way. She did eventually make her way out of the hunting world and build the life she wanted. John loved her so much, and she did end up having two little baby boys after a few years, but the world of monsters didn’t leave her alone for long. She had gotten up one night to check on her youngest baby, little Sam Winchester, only for her world to come crashing down.

The story was well known now amongst hunters across the country. Sam and Dean were then raised in the world of monsters by their father who wanted nothing but revenge against the thing that killed his wife and mother of his boys. Now, that doesn’t mean John was winning ‘Father of the Year’ awards, his boys learned the hard way how to survive in the world filled with evil. Dean was practically forced to become his fathers little soldier, always taking orders, and doing as he was told in order to protect his younger brother.

My own mother had been friends with Mary before she left hunting to build her family, so when John and his boys turned up on our doorstep years after she died, my family didn’t hesitate to bring them in.

Over the years the Winchester boys and I grew up to be incredibly close. We learned to rely on each other during hunts, and once Sam had taken off for college, Dean and I became an unstoppable duo on hunts John sent us out on. We worked seamlessly together, always covering the others back and making sure everything was handled before the local law enforcement could catch up to us.

That doesn’t mean I always followed John’s orders. Dean took orders without hesitation while I stopped to question John when I knew a plan wouldn’t work or seemed a little too good to be true. Dean and I had been placed in the field as bait far too many times for me to blindly allow John Winchester to order me around anymore. My mother taught me well while I was growing up. She told me to always double check things before committing, make sure me and my partner were safe, and always watch my back.

Sam coming back to help Dean and I track John down made hunting even easier. A third set of eyes and a fresh take on the cases helped in ways Sam couldn’t even understand. Once we found John and managed to work a few cases as a group of four, I started picking up on things I hadn’t noticed when Sam wasn’t with us.

John was now always double-checking leads, making sure Sam was sent with plenty of weaponry and back up, while Dean and I were nearly forced to figure out our half the plan on our own without the promise of proper gear or even the availability to call for backup if something were to happen.

I had finally had enough when we were sent on a wendigo case John deemed “simple enough for the two of us to handle” and ended up with Dean and I nearly killed.

“I can’t take this anymore.” I half growled as we pulled into the motel parking lot John and Sam were staying in. “We’re gonna get killed one of these days because your father doesn’t give a shit about us.”

“Stop.” Dean parked the car. “He didn’t know there were more than one in those caves.” Again, Dean had an excuse to not blame his father.

My eyes were wide and mouth hanging open at his words. “You’re kidding, right? We didn’t do any of the research because he ‘had it covered’.” I moved my fingers with the quote John had said an hour before Dean and I left for the hunt. “He’s the one that said it was one and would be a simple case.” Dean stepped out of the car, favoring his right side from being tossed into some stone. I followed, carefully getting out of the sleek black Impala, and grabbing my bag from the back seat.

Everything in my body screamed in pain. My arms were bruised from where the creature had grabbed me, digging its nails into my skin, and bruising my once clear skin. Scrapes and deeper scratches littered my legs and arms from falling in rocks and being dragged down one of the tunnels. “Just stop.” Dean groaned, joining me on my side of the car and resting a hand on my cheek. “The important part is that we’re alive.”

His broken down and tired voice reduced my anger as I took in just how exhausted he looked. He and I had grown close over the years of hunting together, and that closeness eventually turned into love, that’s why we made such a great pair. I sighed and nodded my head, leaning in closer to his hand. “Ok, I’ll drop it for now. Just wanna grab a shower and pass out for the night.”

A soft smirk covered Dean’s face. “You and me both baby.” His arm drifted across my shoulders and pulled me into his side as we headed into the motel room to meet up with his family.

The moment the door was opened, and our bags were tossed to the floor, John was already up from the table and handing us a folder. “Got another one for you. A couple hours west of here that needs taken care of now.”

My hands clenched into fists as Dean took the folder and drifted over to the bed he and I shared to take a look. Everything in my body ached and I knew Dean was in the same boat, plus, he could do with about three days of sleep to make up for lost sleep over the last week. He was barely running on black coffee and the little food he ate between fighting monsters and catching maybe an hour or two of sleep each night. At the first sight of his eyes slipping closed as he read through the folder, my anger got the better of me.

“No.” I snapped, grabbing my bag from the floor, and moving to my side of the bed opposite Dean. “We’re not taking a hunt hours away tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” John turned from the table.

I crossed my arms defiantly. “I said no. Can’t you hear?” Sam glanced at Dean in a way to figure out where my anger was coming from. “Dean and I haven’t had a break in weeks, John. Weeks. We need sleep, and time to heal.”

“People are dying out there. Don’t you get that?” John snapped, slapping down another few folders and a notebook.

“I do, and that sucks, but seriously? People die every day, sometimes luck runs out, and yeah, it’s really shitty to die from a monster mommy and daddy tell you isn’t real, but that’s the world we live in. If you’re so concerned about these people, then you can go deal with it.”

John looked like I had just smacked him across the face. “You need to get control over her.” His eyes had slipped over to Dean’s. “You’ve both got three hours till your asses better be on the road for Colorado.”

My mouth had dropped open in shock from John thinking Dean could or would control anything I did like that. I was prepared to give him a real piece of my mind when Dean finally spoke up. “No.” he stood from his spot on the bed and joined my side. “You know, we were nearly killed today. The freak got the drop on us with one of its buddies and dragged her down a tunnel. All because your research was wrong.” His voice was slowly growing in volume, and I was beyond thankful the motel was practically empty tonight. “You haven’t even taken a moment to ask if we’re ok. But yeah, dad, were gonna be fine.”

John launched into a rant on how Dean and I have been messing up every hunt over the last few months, coming back with more and more wounds, more complaints, and requesting more time between hunts. He threw every little thing at Dean’s face like he wasn’t already in pain from the day. I watched as Dean’s face slowly fell from the confident and angry man trying to protect me, to the look of a kicked puppy as his dad belittled him with his younger brother watching on. I could tell Sam didn’t know how to step in and stick up for Dean, so it was up to me to protect the oldest Winchester when no one else would.

“Back up.” That same angry growl from the car scratched at my words as I stepped beside John who had cornered Dean into the wall of the motel. “Step away from him, now.” My hands balled into fists, tighter and tighter with the longer John was taking to back away from his son. “I said back the hell up, now.”

His dark eyes flashed to my face as he stepped back half a foot. “The hell you say to me?”

I pushed my way between John and Dean, making sure to keep eye contact with John Winchester while I did. “You do not get to talk to him like that. Dean isn’t some little soldier toy for you to throw at the problems you think he can fix. He isn’t indestructible like you think he is. He’s human and needs a god damned break every once in a while. How can you not see that he doesn’t want to let you down but that he’s struggling to keep up with your constant demands? He does everything you ask, “keep an eye on Sammy, don’t let anything happen to Sammy”.” I started quoting him from the past few years. “You have two sons, John. Don’t you remember that? Two! Dean deserves the protection you give to Sam as well. He’s your kid too!”

Silence filled the motel room after my little outbreak, but I couldn’t tell if John was going to let it go for the night or continue to fight. “Dean’s the oldest. He knows the responsibilities that come with that.”

It felt like my skin was on fire with the anger that radiated through my body. “I need you to shut the fuck up and listen for once in your life.” Sam was silent and still as a statue on the bed, papers still scattered around him. “I don’t give a shit about if he’s the oldest or whatever is stuck in your twisted head. I understand you lost your wife, and baby Sam never got a chance to know his mother, and that’s horrible. But Dean lost his mom too. He lost her just like you and Sam did, but because he was four and not a baby, that means to you that he now deserves to be your slave for the rest of his life. It means hunting what you deem necessary and when you say so? He isn’t someone you get to command around for eternity.”

“And who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do with my family. Last I checked, you weren’t a part of this family.” John’s anger was boiling over at this point. His face was bright red, and I swore I could see a vein in his neck pulsing. “You’re just some tag-along who thinks she can stick around with Dean long enough to be more than a piece of ass to him.”

That caused a deafening silence to flood the room that even a gunshot couldn’t overpower. “Right.” I nodded, willing the sting in my eyes to go away so John wouldn’t have more ammunition to throw at me. “Right. I’m here simply because I wanna be a late-night booty call to him…it couldn’t possibly be because someone needs to be on his side for once. Couldn’t be that he needs someone to watch his back on hunts because his father doesn’t care enough. Or it couldn’t be that I simply love him and want to be here for him, right? No, it’s absolutely because I wanna be his hook-up on the few nights where he isn’t struggling to stay awake because he has to finish some research you and Sam couldn’t do, or the other nights where he’s too busy being beaten by monsters.” I took a deep breath and stepped back an inch, barely leaving enough space between John and I before I turned towards the bed to grab my purse and gear bag. “Go to hell, John.” My shoulder slammed into his as I walked past him and out of the motel room.

I didn’t make it very far down the row of rooms before a voice could call and stop me in my tracks. “Wait a minute!” Dean’s voice echoed over the nearly vacant parking lot.

“What?” I asked as he joined my side, his green bag hanging from his hand. “Wait, I…Dean. Did he…”

“No. He didn’t throw me out.” Dean’s free hand came to rest on my shoulder. “I just ditched. I couldn’t let you leave alone after that.” Guilt tugged at my chest as I thought of Dean walking away from the only family he had left.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t my place and…”

He cut me off again. “No one’s ever stood up for me like that.” Dean was quiet as his eyes met mine. “I’ve never had someone in my corner against my dad before.”

“You don’t deserve the way he treats you.”

“I know. It’s always been hard to tell him when I need time off, or even just a break. He’s so driven and focused all the time on getting the thing that killed mom that I don’t think he even notices how he acts sometimes.”

I dropped my bag. “God, Dean. There you go again. You make up these excuses for the way he acts like its ok to treat you like a damn dog. I don’t care that he wants to find the thing that killed her, you and Sam want that just as badly but you two don’t go out endangering each other at every little possible chance you get. I’m sorry you guys lost her, that sucks, and I can’t imagine the pain you all felt, but he needs to understand that you can’t keep risking your life like he expects you to.”

He nodded at my words. “I know.” It was barely a whisper coming from him now. “I just don’t know how to tell him. You’ve seen it, the way he gets when he sets his mind to something.”

“I know.” It was my turn to nod. “You get it from him. You’re so focused sometimes on the hunt or helping someone that everything else kinda blurs.” I gently cradled his face in my hands. “There is one huge difference though. When your partner is hurt, or even struggling, you drop everything as fast as you can to go help them. You’re there in time to save me, every time I need you.”

“And I always will be, you know that, right?” Dean’s hands rested softly on my hips, drawing me in closer to his chest.

“I do.” I smiled up at him. “Now, what do you say to a drink at the bar down the street and a night spent in the car in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’d say that sounds like a great plan to me.” He let me grab the bag I dropped, pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head, and led me towards the infamous black Impala.

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[deancasbigbang]

Ungod

Author: AmberXBoone

Artist: Rezal

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester; Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester (past); Castiel/Kelly Kline (past); Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester; Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester; (past); John Winchester/Mary Winchester; Lee Webb/Dean Winchester (past)

Length: 58922

Warnings: Minor Character Death

Tags: Lawyer Dean Winchester; Priest Castiel (Supernatural); Lawyer Sam Winchester; John and Mary Winchester are Alive; Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent; Corrupt Priests; Explicit Sexual Content; Alternate Universe - Lawyers; Murder Mystery

Summary: Dean Winchester, Esq. never really wanted to be part of the family business. But, here he is, working at his father’s NYC law firm, being told to represent some Church whose head priest allegedly stole thousands of donated dollars from parishioners. One day, lost and confused, Dean wanders into the Church confessional, finding solace in a faceless voice. Later that night, Dean wanders out of a bar with a lonely stranger - only to wake up and realize that the body that spent the night in his bed was the same shadowy figure behind the confessional screen. Dean soon learns that Father Castiel Novak knows all the Church’s secrets and wants to expose Father Chuck Shurley and everyone else there – but after one of the nuns, Sister Isabella, is found dead after knowing too much, Castiel and Dean have to figure out how to lose this case for the Church while making sure Castiel isn’t the next victim of the truth.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 1468

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashed, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding, panic attacks, bondage, forced mating

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnabobingo -Free Space

A/N: John briefly speaks of something that happened when Dean was fifteen, more will be revealed in a later part.

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

Part VII

“Because of the previously cited circumstances and, being unmated Alpha going into a rut, resulted in the death of another, I am obligated, per the state of North Dakota law, to ensure the defendant is not in a situation to commit such a heinous act again. Therefore, I order the forced mating statute be carried out immediately.” They bang their gavel and left.

Dean stood there in shock, half listening as John conversed with the lawyer about the logistics(?) of what his forced mating entails. The bailiff gripped his arm and led him out the prisoner entrance, down the short hallway, stopping in front of a door painted with an A/O symbol. When the bailiff opened the door, what Dean saw returned him to reality, and yelled...

“I CAN’T DO THIS!”

A commotion interrupted John and the lawyer, and they watched as another bailiff hurried through the prisoners' door. Without a thought, John rushed after and saw them squatting down next to Dean. Marching toward them demanded, “What happened?”

“I opened the door, he started this,” gestured to Dean, sitting with his back to the wall and having trouble breathing. “It’s some kind of panic attack.” John turned his attention to the open door and saw what triggered Dean.

His wolf snarled at the sight of his daughter, naked and unconscious, with blood dripping from her mouth, strapped to a breeding bench barely heard the bailiff say, “It started fighting when we tried to strap it down.” When the lawyer appeared they snapped, “Oh hell no! I’m going to have a word with the judge!” 

John turned his attention back to Dean, who was now begging for something and knelt beside him. “Dean, you’re having a panic attack. You need to calm down.” His words did nothing, so he spoke again in his alpha voice. If anything, it only increased Dean’s agitation and made John see red before slapping his eldest son's face hard; the sound of his strong hand making contact echoes as the judge appeared and demanded to know what was going on.

John’s roundabout explanation of what happened to Dean when he was fifteen made the lawyer explode. “Dean is clearly having a post-traumatic flashback! He’s begging you, his father, for help, and what’s you do? Hurt him some more. Fucking awesome parenting skills, Winchester!” The lawyer kneels by Dean, lying on the floor curled up in a fetal position, and begins talking soothingly to him. After a bit, he sat up against the wall, quiet, with tears streaming down his face. 

Addressing the judge, the lawyer asked for a delay in carrying out this part of his sentence due to the circumstances, but the judge refused; however, was willing to waive the requirement for the witnesses to be physically in the room.  The judge ordered the bailiffs to set up in one of the interrogation rooms instead. While they carried out the orders, the lawyer got Dean to his feet, led him to a conference room, and then turned-on John, telling him to take a walk because he didn’t need to traumatize Dean anymore, and slammed the door in his face.

****

Over an hour later, John was sitting in his truck, eyes closed, when a sharp rap on the window startled him. One of the bailiffs said they were ready and, climbing out, followed them to a room where the judge and several people were seated in front of a large one-way mirror. “They’re the witnesses.” A low voice said, and John spotted the lawyer standing in the back, glaring at him with arms crossed. He moved to stand by them when a naked Dean appeared on the other side of the mirror. 

John watched his son tilting his head back, nostrils flaring, scenting the air; he saw goosebumps break out on his flesh as his cock hardened and the scarlet pigment of his irises ascend to the forefront staggers as he moved toward the Omega, the lawyer noticed John's puzzled expression and said, “It’s a side effect of the Estrus Aphrodisiacal.” They explain that the judge ordered him to take a compound containing certain natural herbs, tricking his wolf into believing that the O was in heat because of what had happened with Dean. “Plus, I may have given him a few vodka shots to help.”

The rooms laden with the rich sweetness of an Omega-in-Heat, flooding Dean’s nostrils and overloading his brain, his inner wolf repeatedly chanting mateclaimbreedmineclaim moves toward the O lying prone in the mating position. Leaning over, he sniffs around the collar she’d been wearing since attaining her, breathing in the scent of wildflowers blooming at the height of spring mixed with Sam’s natural aroma of cinnamon and spiced orange licks over her mating gland, tasting an acerbic tang, jerks back, letting out a growl of displeasure and backed away.

“I have never heard of an Alpha reacting like that on Estrus Aphrodisiacal.” The judge ordered someone from the medical personnel brought in and resumed watching Dean circling the O, appearing just as confused as them. When the requested person appeared, peering between a file and Dean's odd behavior, tells the judge they surmised the suppressant implant was counteracting the compound, confusing the Alpha senses.

The judge turned to question John, and an argument ensued. They ordered the bailiffs to take John to the hold for contempt of court and remove the implant immediately.

****

Dean's body vibrated with anger, unable to stop the strangers hovering over his Omega because being tased several times had temporarily left his legs unusable; furious growls bounced around the room when he smelled her blood. They’ve barely finished when Dean’s finally able to move and quickly flee the room as he surges toward her and finds bandaging wrapped around her upper arm. He continues inspecting her already damaged skin, finds her scent changing, and moves back up to her neck, sniffs around, then tentatively licks again. 

The last remnant of his rational mind screaming this is wrong, but still, maneuvers between her splayed legs, pushing the broad head of his cock past her opening; natural slick eases his way within her unprepared walls, and by the time his hips are flush with her ass, something deep and primal leaves Dean’s throat at his cocks tightly squeezed in her channel rapidly pistons his hips feels his knot swelling, rubbing against her entrance with each thrust. When it caught, sank his elongated teeth into the O’s neck as his cock pulsed inside, body shaken against hers. Dean carefully retracts his teeth and softly licks over his claim mark as a feeling of tranquility unlike he’s known to settle over him.

John glared at the bailiff opening the cell door. They informed him his son completed the mating claim, but it’d be a while before they’d untie and give instructions to see the parole officers. John walked out a short time later and pulled out his phone. “Sam, yeah, we’re almost finished up here. Listen, we’re pulling out, so get everything packed, loaded, and cleaned, then meet us here.” 

There was a blast of static from his youngest: “Dean isn’t going to be in any condition to complain about you driving his car.” Another blast: “Sam, he’s fine. Just do as you're told,” John hung up and walked to the closet bar. 

Forty minutes later, he heard the Impalas rumbling and settled his tab heads back, stopping Sam from climbing out of the car. “It took you long enough,” John remarked, seeing Sam bow up and snap back. “You said…,” John waved a hand. “Never mind, follow me.” He got in his truck and, in the side mirror, saw Sam’s belligerent expression pulled out and rounded the building, stopping at the back entrance.

John climbs the exterior steps, opens the door, and sees a still-dazed Dean sitting with the unconscious O on his lap and hears Sam’s startled gasp behind him. Dean clutches her closer when he reaches for the O, snarling menacingly at John, who responds in kind when Sam grabs his arm. “Dad, you need to go.” John usually would have refused, but not wanting to delay their departure, he leaves. 

Sam knelt submissively without looking at his brother but felt his eyes trained on him. “Hey, Dean, are you in there?” Sam peered up through his bangs into Dean's scarlet-tinted eyes. “Baby’s packed and fueled up,” he ticks his head toward the glass door. As he hoped, Dean looked toward his car and saw recognition. “How about blowing this popsicle stand?” 

****

John leans against his truck's door, wearily rubbing his face, unaware that the judge is watching from their darkened chamber, yellow eyes alight with amusement. They held a glass of bourbon in salute and said, “Here’s to you, Johnny boy.”

Part VIII

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva   @lassie-bird   @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch  @ilovetaquitosmmmm   @strawblueberrys  @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67

[sammyluvr]

literary parallels — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, light angst, fluff, small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn’t matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely, 3.6K words. requested !

summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that’s exactly where you find him.

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin. 

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford. 

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him. 

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.” 

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again. 

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high. 

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already. 

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

And the plot thickens...

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2904

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry, Mention of Murder

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Chapter 4

The stay at Bobby’s lasted longer than she thought it would but she wasn’t about to complain. She loved spending time with her Uncle and Sammy. It was Dean who brought out a side of her that she didn’t enjoy. He had attempted two more challenges, one being target practice with a gun at a distance of fifty, seventy-five, and one hundred yards. He was pretty good.

The two of them had a tie for the first distance, but after that, she beat him, which again annoyed him. She knew the difficulty of the challenge but this time, she didn’t say anything, not like with the knife throwing. It was the second challenge she enjoyed more than she thought she would, a “friendly” fight to see who was better. Bobby had supervised, wanting to keep an eye on the kids for that one, knowing it could have easily gotten out of hand. 

Dean hadn’t counted on her being as agile as she was, constantly dodging him, and always finding his weak spots. She would watch him, the way he moved, quickly pinpointing the easiest way to take him down. Maria never hit him, just pinned him to the ground. After the fifth time, Bobby called it. Dean walked away with a sore ego, but that was all. This time, Maria let herself have a smug expression from winning, especially when she got congratulations from Sammy, which really annoyed Dean.

Before any of them knew it, two months had passed from the day they had arrived at Bobby’s. The angel book Maria had snagged the first night she was there was still under her pillow, even though she’d read the whole thing three times. There was something about the book and the information that she was drawn to but no matter how many times she read it, it was like she couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together, and no adult she could talk to about it. She’d also read several other books from Bobby’s massive collection but hadn’t been able to find anything else on angels. There weren’t many things that frustrated her, but this whole angel thing was.

It would be another month before the purr of the Impala showed up at Bobby’s, somewhere around early evening. Maria had been in her room, her lessons done for the day as well as her routine. At first, she thought she’d imagined hearing it, but when she heard footsteps outside who were already in the house, she ran out and into the living room, and saw her father and John there.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, running up to him and practically tackling him in a hug.

William laughed and wrapped his arms around her, “Hey munchkin,” he said softly.

John wasn’t nearly as affectionate with Sammy and Dean as her father was with her, but she’d never say anything to him about it, thinking it rude to tell someone how to treat their own children.

“I need some new books, Dad,” she chuckled as she looked up at him.

“Oh? Did you get through everything I left already?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” she said proudly, “And Uncle Bobby had to pick some books from his collection. They were very interesting.”

William glanced over at Bobby, “Don’t worry Will, they were at her level,” he said, reassuring his brother-in-law, who nodded, “and that girl is too smart for her own good.”

William glanced down at her, then put his hands on his hips, “Where’s your knife?” he asked.

“Under my pillow, with my gun, but I always keep this one on me,” she answered, pulling out her boot knife, which was also silver.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

“Are you hungry, Pappa?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“Starving,” he said, in an exaggerated tone, which made her giggle.

“Then I’ll make dinner,” she said, trying not to giggle again.

He fluffed up her hair, which made her laugh as she wiggled away from him and into the kitchen to make the same meal she’d made the first night she was there, but now, she’d perfected the seasoned fries.

William sat down on the couch opposite side from John and looked over at Bobby, “How did things go?”

“Her and Dean have that rivalry between them, but I think it’s been good for both of them, even if she beat him,” Bobby explained, glancing into the kitchen. The boys were outside being boys at the moment, so he wasn’t worried about them overhearing anything.

“What did they do this time?” John asked.

“Knife throwing, target practice, and a friendly fighting match, which I supervised. That girl, I swear. She’s gonna be one deadly hunter when she’s older,” Bobby said, sighing slightly.

“Have any of her abilities surfaced?” William whispered, not wanting her to hear.

“Not this time. Just the few she already had, like never missing her target, her photogenic memory, and that damned intuition of hers. It’s almost scary how she can put information together the way she does,” Bobby explained, again glancing into the kitchen.

“She really beat Dean in a fighting match?” John asked, trying not to chuckle at the thought.

“Yeah she did, girl pinned that boy five times. Dean walked away with a bruised ego, but that was all. She never even swung at him,” Bobby answered, chuckling quietly.

“Then that would be another one,” William sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling, “She can see weaknesses now, damnit.”

“With how slow they’re developing, she probably won’t get anything big till she’s close to an adult or a bit older. Alarra did a good job putting that block in place when she was born Will,” Bobby told him, as softly as he could. He knew Alarra was still a bit of a sore subject.

William looked over at him, “You know, she never grieved. She told me she didn’t want to be sad when she remembered her mom. She only wanted to feel happiness, that was when I picked her up from here after her first visit.”

John and Bobby both raised an eyebrow, “For a five-year-old to think like that, might be a good thing, with what she is,” Bobby suggested.

“Look, Will, I haven’t spent a lot of time with her, but that girl, damn. I’ve never met any kid who is that respectful, disciplined, and still knows how to act like a kid. The way she is with Sammy is something I can’t give him and he needs that. You’ve done a damn good job with her,” John told him.

“I can’t take all the credit,” William smirked slightly, “Alarra helped for the first half of her life so far,” saying her name again almost made his voice break.

Bobby glanced in the kitchen again before he looked back over at William, “Has Zamariel shown back up, since her birth?” he asked quietly.

William sighed and looked down at the floor. It had been ten years since he’d even heard that name spoken out loud, “No, and she goes by Mari. She’s probably in hiding, for what she did. You know they’d kill her and Maria if any of them ever found the two of them, right.”

“Yeah, we know,” Bobby sighed.

Maria was humming to herself as the burgers, bacon, and fries cooked, not paying attention to what the adults were talking about in the living room. This was one meal she had perfected while she’d stayed at her Uncle’s this time and things were getting close to being done. She set the table before she went outside and rang the dinner bell that Bobby had gotten for her during the first week of this particular stay, then headed back into the kitchen. The sound of it surprised William and John, which made Bobby chuckle.

“She asked for a dinner bell so she didn’t have to holler when she was done cooking,” Bobby chuckled, “How could I say no to that?” 

Both John and William practically laughed and then shook their heads a bit before heading into the kitchen. Maria turned to them, spatula in hand, “Nope, go clean up, then you can eat,” she told them, acting almost like a stern mom.

William almost couldn’t contain his laughter at her behavior when the boys burst through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom, causing John to raise an eyebrow as he watched them run by, “What the hell…” he trailed off.

“They know I won’t let them have any unless they clean up first,” Maria said proudly, spatula still in hand.

This time, John laughed hard, a deep sound coming from his core, “Might have to have her around more often. Those two normally aren’t that behaved.”

William looked over at his daughter for a moment, too proud for words. She reminded him so much of her mother, not just in her appearance, but in the way she acted. He smiled slightly, having no clue how to tell her what he was feeling, “I’m proud of you munchkin,” he said softly before he and the other two adults headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Maria smiled, hearing her father’s praise, but she knew there was more to it, even if he couldn’t say it. She could see the pain behind his eyes of something she couldn’t quite understand. She finished up dinner and got it on the table while the five of them washed up, which amused her a bit that they had all done so. It had only taken one good swat with the spatula during her second week there on both Sammy and Dean for them to realize she hadn’t been joking about them not getting anything till they had washed up.

The only two who hadn’t tried this particular meal were her father and John, and both were surprised, “Are you gonna open a restaurant when you grow up?” her father asked her, teasingly of course, knowing she wanted to be a hunter more than anything.

“Dad,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled, “Well, with how good of a cook you are now, it’s an option for you,” he said, a bit encouraging.

“That would be boring,” she replied before eating another french fry.

“Why do you think it would be boring, sis?” Sammy asked, looking over at her, not understanding.

She always thought it was cute when he got curious. He was only eight after all, “Think about it. Stuck in a kitchen, all day, just cooking for strangers who might not even appreciate the effort it takes to make something taste good,” she explained.

The adults watched the interaction between the two, not only amused but also proud, “I guess you’re right when you put it that way,” Sammy said, after thinking about what she’d said.

Dean just rolled his eyes, not even wanting to admit how good dinner tasted. The girl could cook, but that was just a piece of it. She was smart, funny, kind, and above all else, she was annoying as hell to him. He’d gone back to where they had done the knife-throwing challenge almost every day since then, practicing, attempting to hit the target she had hit with ease. He’d gotten better, but it wasn’t nearly as good as she was. Whether either of them knew it, this was the kind of push that Dean had needed for him to gain the skills that he would need later on in life. The only thing he had ever wanted to be was a hunter, like his father, the family business.

John looked over at Bobby, “So, how does clean up after dinner usually work around here?” he asked, curious as to what the routine had become.

“At first, Maria would just clean up, taking care of everything, but in my eyes, that wasn’t fair to her,” he began, glancing at the boys for a moment, “Then, I had the boys do the clean up, no matter how much they protested about it in the beginning.”

Both boys looked down at their plates, not wanting to meet their father’s gaze, which they knew had fallen on them, “Is that so? They gave you a problem about it?” he asked, sounding disappointed in both of them.

Bobby sighed, “Only the first couple of times. When I threatened them with having cereal for dinner while Maria and I ate what she cooked, that’s when their attitudes changed. Even I did clean up a couple of times,” he explained.

“Still, that’s not how I raised the two of them,” John said, still sounding disappointed in their behavior.

Maria felt bad for the boys, even Dean, whom she found utterly annoying most of the time, “Please Uncle John, don’t be mad at them,” she asked as respectfully as she could. He may not have been her blood Uncle, but John and his boys were family to her, no matter how she felt about certain things. She pursed her lips together, wanting to find the right words, “I know that sometimes it takes time, with a new routine. They’ve both been very helpful since then though, even helping set up the table before I finish cooking sometimes.”

John raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her. She never ceased to amaze him, “You make a valid point. Then…” he glanced at his boys again, who had looked up briefly, but then quickly looked back down at their plates, “I’ll let that one slide, this time.”

She could see the relief on both their faces, but at the same time, she saw the glare Dean gave her. Maria looked away and went back to eating, knowing he was mad cause she stuck her neck out for them and even got their father to back off of something he would have given them hell for. For Dean, that was the icing on the cake of reasons why he didn’t like her.

After dinner, the boys cleaned up while Maria did her few night chores while the adults sat in the living room having drinks, talking about the yellow-eyed demon that they still hadn’t found and the trail had gone cold again. 

“Come in Pappa,” Maria said about a half hour later, hearing her father walking on the other side of her door. He hadn’t even had a chance to knock yet.

William stopped dead in his tracks, realizing another of her abilities had surfaced, one Bobby hadn’t seemed to notice. He took a deep breath before he went into her room, “How’d you know it was me?” he asked her.

“I don’t know, I just knew,” she replied as she looked up from the book on her desk.

“How long has that been going on?” he asked her, sitting down on the edge of her bed, which was made neatly.

“Not too long after you dropped me off here this time. Why?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I was just wondering, that’s all,” he replied, and knew he had to find a way to shrug it off, “Does that annoy Dean too?” 

She giggled a little, “Yeah, so I did it as often as possible,” she replied, then frowned a little, “Is that bad, to annoy him on purpose?” she asked.

It was her father’s turn to chuckle, “As long as you don’t make a habit of it or take it too far munchkin.”

That made her feel better as she let out a sigh of relief, “Any luck on finding the demon?” she asked, curiously.

He sighed, “No. The trail went cold again. This one is smarter than any other demon we’ve hunted before.” Maria thought for a moment as she watched her father, “If there were other demon books, maybe I could help with research,” she suggested.

“We’ve been doing research for five years and still haven’t found anything munchkin, not sure where to even look for a more detailed book,” he replied.

She sighed and looked at the floor, “It’s not fair, that there isn’t somewhere that would have a book about a yellow-eyed demon,” she grumbled a little.

William looked away from her and at her door, taking a deep breath through his nose, then let it out slowly, “I’m sure there’s one somewhere, we just haven’t found it yet,” he tried to reassure her. He had kept her away from anything that had to do with the Men of Letters, knowing how curious she was about knowledge and there were things within that that she wasn’t ready to learn yet, not at ten, “We’re heading out in the morning, so pack up tonight.”

“Yes, Pappa,” she replied quietly.

She waited until he left her room before she sighed. She loved hunting but at the same time, she loved being at her Uncle’s as well. At least now she understood a little bit more about Sammy’s struggle and what he was going through. Maria slowly packed up her belongings into her bags. When she got to the book about angels she had stashed under her pillow, she just sat on her bed looking at it as she thumbed the cover. She knew she couldn’t take it with her, not wanting to risk her father finding it in her things, so she decided she’d sneak it back into his collection after the grown-ups had gone to bed.

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

Chapter 5

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[spnrareshipbang]

“Precedent, Prosperity and Good Living” - Saturday, November 23

Author: Masoena (@masoena)

Artist: morokolli (@morokollisyo)

Beta(s): jld71

Rating: Explicit

Featured characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden, Gadreel Gardener (Supernatural), Samandriel, Alastair, Dick Roman, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum

Featured relationships: Sam Winchester/Gadreel, Lisa/Dean Winchester, Jody Mills/Donna Hanscum, Chuck/Amara, Becky Rosen

Length: 10658 words

Tags: Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lawyer Gadreel, Hobby Farmer Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Ben’s Dad, Canon-divergent AU, Not Hunters Anymore, Good Communication, John Winchester is a good Father, Smut, Plot-Heavy, Samandriel is Gadreel’s Nephew, Jody Mills is in HR, Evil Corporations, Industrial Lawsuit, Office Romance, Slow Build Relationship, Angst, Meet-Cute, Chuck and Amara are not Siblings, Chuck isn't God, Chuck is Gadreels Brother

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary:  Sam becomes a lawyer, never returns to hunting after going to Stanford, while Dean and his dad finish off the yellow-eyed demon, they also retire from hunting. Dean ends up with Lisa because Ben is his and they have another child together. John and Dean, actually go to therapy to deal with the trauma from being hunters, the Winchester family doing what needs doing to become a functional, supportive family. Sam and Gadreel slowly become close, a romantic relationship forming, while they contend with the questionable ethics of leadership in the law firm they both work at and find themselves pitted against each other.

Excerpt:

Jody Mills sat beside Becky when Gadreel and Sam joined them in the boardroom. The young, very capable lawyer always creeped Sam out and had done so since day one. She looked at him like he was a piece of meat, a tree she’d like to climb but not in a good way and today was no exception. However, there was some anger and gotcha-energy mixed in for a change. On the flip side Sam was happy that Jody was there, knowing full well, that she wasn’t your average slimy corporate pawn.

...

After mentally gathering himself, Sam knew exactly what needed to happen and in a voice that brooked no argument, he proposed the following: “That’s it! You’re coming to the Winchester-Braeden hobby-ranch with me, where you will stuff your belly with the best damn turkey dinner you’ll ever taste and be up the next day at 5am to feed the animals with me.”

“Will I get to feed the farm boy in the hayloft of the barn while there?” Gadreel asked suggestively.

“Who are you calling farmboy here, city slicker?”