#if sam didn’t have a name that was nicknameable what would dean call him

[keen-eye]

i’m sorry but i cannot envision sam or dean calling each other “baby”. that’s just not them (to me) because whatever else they become they’re first and foremost brothers. and the amount of passion they already put into saying each other’s names basically fills that role (especially “sammy”, obviously)

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Dawg gone-it!

Summary: Dean isn’t too keen on how close you and a stray have been getting lately

Word count: 0.6k

A/n: NO HATE AGAINST ANY DOGS!!! We love dogs, and Dean loves dogs, just not the one you’ve been getting close to

A/a/n: Y’all I just got done with the first set of workouts this summer, for school. And OMG it literally killed me, I don’t know if I can do this all summer.

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Dean had always loved dogs. Ever since he was a little boy all the way to the burly man that he currently was, his heart had always had a special spot for the canines. 

Until, you had rescued one from a hunt. 

A week. Minimum. That’s how long you and the brothers had agreed to keep the animal until you found a rightful shelter. Seven days with man’s best friend, living and traveling in the back of the impala with them. 

A simple week, Dean would’ve loved that.

Yes, he would’ve loved it, if all your attention hadn’t stayed solely on the dog. 

It was everyday that you’d get up early and walk the animal, Sam often joining in his jogs before he would take a different route. And, Dean was fine with you getting the dog some exercise, what he didn’t like was you leaving the warmth of the motel bed to do so. Leaving Dean yearning for the feel of your body in the early mornings. 

And it wasn’t even just that. No, no, no. You’d had given the dog your leftovers one afternoon. Right in front of Dean too. Knowing well enough that whatever you didn’t eat, you’d always hand over to Dean. 

But, it shouldn’t bother him, no. Dean could go with out your morning embrace, your leftover Chinese that Dean tried his hardest not to tell you that he was waiting patiently for. 

No, what really bothered him more than anything, was when you called that dog your ‘pretty boy’.

Dean was your pretty boy. It was the nickname that you’d donned him with, he loved that special little name that you’d picked out for him. 

And out of all the names that’s what you’d called that slobbery animal, that’s what you called him. That dog, who’d slowly been taking you away from Dean ever since he was found out in the streets. Who’d been stealing you away from him for the past few days right under his nose the whole time. 

Dean couldn’t prove it, but he knew that the dog was doing it on purpose. 

He knew that the dog would give him a satisfied smirk, every time he’d turn his back on you and the animal. He knew what he was doing and he was playing you like a damn fiddle. 

You currently sat on your and Deans motel bed, an old hay brush passing through the dogs tangled fur as you gave him sweet praises. Dean sat behind you against the headboard, muttering under his breath all the things you’d say in a mocking tone. 

Not that he was trying to mock you, but you’d fallen so easily in the dogs trap that you could no longer get out. It was kinda hard not to. 

“Good boy.” You whispered to the dog, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “The goodest boy.”

Dean could see his tail wagging from his position, body moving with each sharp wag. 

Suck up. Dean wanted to say to the dog, not that he won’t when you leave the room. But, for now he’s happy with the one sided argument that he’s winning against an animal. 

You then placed the hairbrush on the side of the bed, hands coming to pet the dogs now soft fur. Gentle praises leaving your mouth as you then began to scratch behind his ears. 

Dean stared at the sight before him, wishing that he’d be the one that you’d run your fingers through his hair. Telling him how pretty and handsome he was. “You never do that to me.” Dean muttered softly.

“What?” Thankfully, what he said never truly meeting your ears. 

“I said he’s very obidient.” Dean replied louder, watching as a small smile formed on your face as you agreed. Your attention returning back to the animal, completely missing the sour look he gave the dog. 

God, he couldn’t wait til this dog was gone. 

[supernatural-bias]

↳ notes: basic unfinished information on my supernatural sona, ezra/azrael. more info to come. art in the middle by @noxious-fennec

↳ playlist: supernatural/ezra playlist

unfinished basic information. will be updated overtime

• real name azrael, uses ezra larue as an alias. it’s an anagram. his full real name is azrael rue basil. his mom named him that because she believed that giving him a biblical name could help keep him safe from the demon she made a deal with all those years ago

• born 1976 in maine, america, to a single mom. she died the night the yellow eyed demon came and bled in his mouth, marking him as one of the chosen kids. later on we discover his powers are being extra good at communicating with the dead (i.e, he can see them without having to summon them, and talk to them with no problem. his powers stop when he dies, but it’s not like it really matters considering he becomes a ghost himself)

• appears officially in the show season two episode twenty one in the ghost town with all the other special kids. only it’s that sam is the only one who can see him, and he only appears in short bursts. it isn't explained what he’s doing or who he is in that episode, and we only see him again at the end of season three episode two, and he sort of sticks around with the winchesters for a while after that.

• is a ghost; only nobody figures that out for a few more episodes. mainly up until season three episode nine where he’s outed by demons and promptly yelled at by dean and sam

• his personality consists of being very exhausted with everyone's bullshit, while also contributing to said bullshit. as seasons pass by he ends up trying to make the best of his predicaments instead of stewing in them like he could

• he wears a beanie constantly. at first its just because he physically can’t change clothes, constantly wearing a dark blue beanie, an overcoat, patchy pants and shin length black boots; but after that changes, he still wears the thing. almost never takes it off, and no one has ever seen him without it. it’s a staple of his wardrobe. he gets his kicks from wearing ones with different colors nearly everyday

• when he’s a ghost, ezra has a nasty open head wound at the base of his skull that’s just barely concealed by his beanie. it’s the injury he sustained in one of his last living moments that caused him to bleed out, and he keeps it hidden from nearly everyone — even after he’s discovered to be a ghost. other than that, he has a pair of nasty claw marks running across the blunt of his face in a horizontal motion. they work wonders when trying to intimidate people, but he is a little disappointed when they don’t go away when he’s revived

• after season three episode nine, there's an episode dedicated to how ezra got to where he did. it’s an episode dedicated to purely just him; retracing all his steps up until he was killed in the ghost town, what happened after, why he decided to work with the winchesters, and basically everything someone would need to know about ezra. the episode doesn't end there, and comes back to the present where it’s revealed all of that had been a flashback as ezra explained himself to the winchesters. the episode goes from there, and in a moment after the conversation/fight, ezra decides that it’s best if he leaves, so he does. none of them hear from him again until the season three finale where he comes back in a dire moment of need to help dean

• prefers to keep going by ezra even after he’s outed as a ghost. he feels weird when people call him azrael, so he prefers that they don’t. the only time he’s ever called that is when someone that knows him personally (like sam or dean) gets real mad, or upon first meeting castiel who doesn’t grasp the idea of nicknames for a bit

• a bit of what was included in the backstory episode goes as follows: he died in the little hunger games type situation that the yellow eyed demon had going on months before sam arrived, but for some reason he didn’t just completely die. most of his remains were salted and burned, save for a pinky bone he keeps tied around his neck in a little pouch, which is the explanation for how he's kept a spirit, but also can move around freely and is not tied to one place. the necklace is one of the few things he can touch normally almost immediately after his death. everything else takes a little time and practice. his favorite way to do so is by tossing a stress ball in the air constantly. it’s almost like training a muscle

• when he comes back during season four, it’s almost immediately. he shows up, hair wild and out of breath on sam’s doorstep. also, alive. that’s the big one

• apparently once he heard the news about dean coming back, he decided to come out of whatever place he’d holed up in and reunite with the brothers. they thought he had been put to rest after lilith beamed him with the white light, but lo and behold, he’s alive and well. and looking about ten times better now that he is. the logic behind it is unexplained for a bit

• he’s immediately roped into about everything that goes on with the winchesters; i’m talking hunting trips and all. not that he cares too much. this is what he signed up for. in his own words, ‘i got a second chance. i’m not gonna waste it this time.’

• before he was killed, he hated touching people. but after not being able to touch people, touch anything, for nearly a year and a half, he changes his mind a little. he still isn't partial to touching, but sometimes he needs it to ground himself. to remind himself and his body that he’s still living, still present, and not going anywhere anytime soon. his favorite way to do so is by gripping someones hand as tight as possible, or simply pressing his forehead to someones palm. a lot of the time it ends up being sam since he’s a little better at empathizing on the fly, but later on he’ll use castiel for those sorts of things since he won't ask a ton of questions. usually.

• after meeting castiel for the first time in the shack while defending anna, they finally realize where they recognized him from. it took them a hot minute, considering the feeling that they knew him was only a faint tug at the back of his brain, but ezra eventually recognizes him as the faint figure they saw in the background after lilith blasted him with the white beam. the only thing they remember after that was waking up covered in nothing but a blanket inside some musty hotel room weeks later,

• he’s a great artist. he loves to draw, even if he barely has time to do it anymore. can occasionally be seen with a sketchbook, but his skills are never brought up unless they are needed for a case (i.e, posing as a police sketch artist to interview people)

• hates hates hates small spaces and werewolves. the former is less of a fear and more of a phobia, but i digress. his fear/fears stem from his first ever official interaction with the supernatural world when he was a teenager on a camping trip at a summer camp. one of his counselors turned out to be a werewolf (because what better way than to rip prime human hearts out then at a secluded summer camp) and nearly massacred his entire camp before ezra managed to stumble away. it slashed him with its claws across his face while chasing him, hence his life long scarring, but wasn't able to kill him, as he narrowly evaded the monster by falling down an abandoned well that the camp used to use before decommissioning it. he was stuck there for over a day before the police showed up, and he's been claustrophobic ever since

• slept with crowley in one of the earlier seasons. it was a whole mess, and it nearly severed him and deans relationship as a result. but they managed to pull through. as a result, they have a really weird relationship with crowley, especially while he’s teetering on being the winchester's mortal enemy and an ally

• there’s an air of unspoken mystery around ezra. for example, in the french mistake, there’s no actor for ezra in the universe. just an unnamed intern that looks like ezra, and wears ezra’s clothes, but has no name and no role. doesn’t mean much to sam and dean or really anyone ever, but its a nod to the fact that he’s technically a sona and not canon in the spn universe (our universe)

• ezra and gabriel are best friends for life, actually. he’s devastated when he quote unquote ‘dies’ in season five. really really liked the trickster/archangel, even if he flirted with them a lot

• ezra’s nicknames for the following people goes as so: dean (dean-o, hot-shot), sam (samantha, gigantor), castiel (feathers, cassie), gabriel (casanova), lucifer (horns and pitchfork). more to come

[reigningqueenofwords]

Yet

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, past Dean x Allie (OC), past Benny x Reader, Sam x Jess Word count: 2,255

Read on AO3

Final Part of Unholy

Mary knew Holland, and had for years. So, she offered to speak with her that night while Dean worked on your car. You honestly felt that was the best way to go about things. You truly hoped that Mary could get through to her. 

Once you locked up, you went to ask Dean what he would like for dinner. “Hey.” You greeted him. He was by your car, getting it on to the lift. 

“Hey.” He glanced at you for a moment. 

“I’m gonna order dinner so we can eat before you deal with my tires.” You told him. “Any requests? Subs? Pizza? Chinese?” 

He thought for a minute. “How’s subs sound? Haven’t had those in a bit. I’ll get their pizza one.” 

Smiling, you nodded. “Sounds good.” You turned to go get those ordered. 

“I’ll run down the street to get us drinks. What would you like?” He asked, wiping his hands. 

“Can you get me a Sprite and an OJ? I like to mix them.” You chuckled. 

“Sprite and OJ coming up.” He agreed, going to clean up. He’d leave his coveralls on, not seeing the point in taking them off, just to put them back on. He hoped that the two of you could get to a point where you were friends. 

Smiling, you went to go relax at the counter. You’d work on getting things ahead for the following day until the subs arrived. Then you’d be done for the day. 

You had just finished eating when Dean got a text. You couldn’t tell who it was from by the look on his face. “Mom talked to Holland.” He told you. “She said that she told her how Allie talked to her about everything that happened, and how Allie was your friend. She also told her that Allie would be very disappointed in Holland’s actions towards you.” He went on, then chuckled. “She ended with the mom voice and telling her she needed to behave before my mom went to speak with Holland’s mom because this would affect the kids.” 

That made you laugh. “Yeah, don’t get other mom’s involved.” You shook your head. 

“Thankfully all that worked. Holland promised to back off. That she’s still not happy with everything, but the last thing she wants is to upset the kids.” 

“I owe your mom some flowers and a thank you card!” You smiled. “Maybe tomorrow after work I’ll go get my car washed and then stop to get her one.” 

“I’m gonna powerwash that side of your car. That should take care of that spray paint.” He didn’t want you driving home with your car like that. “Won’t take too long.” He assured you, knowing you’d likely try to refuse. 

You nodded. “Alright.” You agreed. That would be one less thing on your mind, at least. 

After a few minutes of silence, Dean spoke up. “Did you want to talk names before I go back to working on your tires?” He offered, taking the last bite of his sub. 

“How about we each make a list, and then tomorrow after the kids are in bed we can call and talk about them? Unless you already have a list.”

He looked a bit bashful. “I have a couple in mind, actually.” He admitted. 

You were a bit surprised. “Yeah? Can I hear them?” 

He pulled up his notes app where he’d been putting them as they came to mind. “Clara, Jane, Daisy, and Alice.” He looked to you. 

“Those are really cute names!” You grinned. “Not gonna lie…Clara Jane sounds like a good name.” You said truthfully. “The names I like are Grace, Sophia, Penelope…Yes, like from my favorite show. You cannot fault me. She’s amazing.” You chuckled. “And then Emma.” 

Dean thought those names over, putting different name combinations together. “Isn’t Penelope from that serial killer show you watched with Allie?” He asked after a moment. You nodded. “Penny is a cute nickname for that.” He mused. “I’m digging either the Clara Jane or maybe Penelope Grace. Those right now are the top two.” 

You pulled out your phone to write those down. “I think both would sound good with ‘Winchester’, too. Only reason I avoided ‘w’ names.” You chuckled. Seeing the shocked look on his face, you tilted your head. “What’s wrong?” 

“She’s gonna be a Winchester?” He asked, voice quiet. 

“Of course. I can tell you’re a great dad, and you didn’t run for the hills when you found out I’m pregnant.” It was easy for you to decide that. 

He looked emotional. “Thank you. I’d been wondering, honestly.” He downed the last of his soda. 

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course.” 

After that night, you were invited to weekly dinners at the Winchester’s house, feeling more and more welcome as time went on. You’d even had Dean and the kids over a couple times to have pizza and a movie night at your apartment. Layla looked more and more like Allie as time went on, as well. She loved to ask you to brush her hair when she saw you, and you had no objections. 

You and Dean were friends, and nothing more. If you were honest with yourself, he was your best friend. Garth and Cas become like your family, as well. When you were 8 months pregnant, Mary threw you a baby shower at their house. The guys were there, and so was your mom. It was the first time your mother was meeting the rest of them. You were nervous as all hell. She knew the truth of what had happened, and you didn’t know how she’d be with Dean. 

Everyone was having a good time and you realized that you couldn’t see you mom…or Dean. “Great.” You groaned. Hopefully your mom hadn’t dragged him off to yell at him or something. Just as you were about to go check the backyard, you saw them coming back. Your mother patted his cheek lovingly and you chuckled. Clearly, your mother liked Dean. You went over to your mother when Dean went to talk to John who was refilling the cooler. “Mom, please tell me you were nice to Dean.” 

“I just wanted to make sure he was going to keep up the whole ‘being sweet’ thing for you.” She smiled. “And I approve.” 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “You approve of him being my friend?” You chuckled. 

She dramatically rolled her eyes. “That boy loves you, and I know it.” She shrugged, sipping her drink. 

“Please don’t, mom.” You sighed. “It’s only been three months since Allie and Benny passed, and do you forget that he cheated on her with me? What’s to say that wouldn’t happen again?” Your voice was low. “So please, don’t meddle.” You asked her, clearly ending the conversation. “Just enjoy the baby shower.” 

You worked until you were 38 weeks pregnant, and then you opted to take some time off. Thankfully you still got paid, which was a huge help. It was one less thing for you to worry about. It did mean you felt somewhat bored most days. Not having to go into work left your days wide open. You hoped you had her on time because that would mean you had her to look after.

However, come 41 weeks pregnant, you were still very much pregnant. And very much over it. Every day you took a walk after dinner, having been told that could help. You also continued to go to the weekly dinners at the Winchesters. You adored the kids, and played cards or board games with them whenever they asked. 

“Are you okay?” David asked you as he sat next to you at dinner. “You made a funny face.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You assured him. Until you made a face a few minutes later. “Okay, maybe I’m not.” You breathed. “I think I’m going into labor.” You looked at Dean, scared. You’d never done this before!

“Alright, Dean, bring Y/N to her apartment. Relax there until contractions are about 5 minutes apart.” Mary spoke up. “The kids can stay here.” She added. Although she knew Dean had done all this with Allie, his mind was likely in a very different place. The last time he brought her to the hospital…she didn’t make it out. 

Dean nodded, quickly getting up to help you up. “We’ll drive your car, okay?” He told you. 

“Yeah.” You agreed. “Bye, guys.” You waved at the kids. 

“Bye!” They waved. Did they know they were getting another sister? 

Once back at your place, you went to sit on the couch and paused. “Can you get me a folded towel to sit on? Just in case?” You asked him, watching him rush to find one. “Thank you.” You watched him get it set up for you and then helped you sit. 

“Do you have a hospital bag packed and a diaper bag?” He asked, wanting things ready to go when you told him it was time. He was doing his best not to let panic take over, wanting to remain calm for you. 

“They’re both in my room in her crib.” You told him. “Sit down. Relax. There’s nothing you can do for me right now.” You said gently as he paced the living room. “She’ll let us know when it’s time to go to the hospital.” Holding out your hand for him, you also wanted to remain calm for him. Four months ago he was in the same spot with Allie, and he didn’t know that he’d lose her. You couldn’t fathom what was going through his head at the moment. 

Mary was plating up breakfast the next morning for the kids when she got a text. Putting down the pan that held the cheesy scrambled eggs, she quickly looked. It was a group text from Dean. “Penelope Grace Winchester. 8:01am, 21 inches long, 7 lbs 3 oz.” He sent with a picture of her sleeping. 

She instantly replied, gushing over how cute she was. Hearing Ethan fuss, she went to scoop him up. He instantly quieted, making her chuckle to herself. He just really wanted to be held. She kissed his forehead and finished serving breakfast one handed. She loved her grandkids, and looked forward to being there for Penelope, too. 

It was a whirlwind when you brought her home. Mary had surprised you with some freezer meals so you didn’t really have to cook, which was a massive help. She also told you if you’d like, she could bring Ethan and Layla over some days to keep you company. Those days, she cuddled Penny as much as she could. 

Before you knew it, it was time for you to go back to work. Penny was three months old, and you were all but pouting. Dean was over with Ethan while John and Mary took the older kids to Chuck E. Cheese for dinner. You couldn’t wait for Xander and David to tell you all about it. “I’m so used to being around her that I don’t know how I’m gonna last all day without seeing that little face.” You told him as he fed her. You were holding Ethan who was contently watching you. 

“I actually thought about that…” He smiled at you. 

“I can’t stay home any more.” You chuckled. “I need to work.” You reminded him. “And she needs to eat.” 

He stuck his tongue out at you. “Bring her to work. You have that baby carry Cas got you, right?” You simply nodded. “She’s not mobile just yet, and it’s not like the shop is all that loud. Just bring her carrier, diaper bag, and swing.” He suggested. “I happen to know the owner would be totally okay with that being the solution.” 

You looked down at Ethan and made a face at him before looking back to Dean. “And plan to find a daycare when she’s more mobile?” That seemed a bit more feasible. 

“Oh, no.” He didn’t like that idea. “That’s when we get a playpen for behind the counter and give her some toys.” He said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “We’ll make it work.” He promised. 

And you had made it work. Penny was a fixture in the shop most days of the week. Some days Mary and John wanted time with all their grandkids and would come get her. You never argued. You’d met Sam, Jess, and their two kids early that summer. You’d been beyond nervous, but it soon occurred to you that you had no reason to be. Sam took to both Ethan and Penny, easily carrying both infants around the yard as the older kids all played. 

You and Jess hit it off right away, as well. In many ways, she reminded you of Allie. While the guys played with the kids, you and her sat with the babies in the shade. She told you a bunch of stories about Dean, about Allie, and the group as a whole. 

When they left, you and Jess exchanged numbers, wanting to stay in touch. “I was a bit worried how awkward things would be…when Sam explained the entire situation about you and Dean.” Jess told you softly. “But there was none. You two are great together. I’m still upset about him being a dick, but doesn’t mean I don’t want him happy in the long run.” 

You blushed. “We’re not together.” You corrected her. 

She smirked. “Yet.” She teased before hugging you. 

[spn-static]

Nicknames

Destiel Month day 1 ----------------------------------------- Ao3 Link -----------------------------------------

Dean draped the duvet covers onto himself while Cas found himself sitting on the edge of the bed in some of Dean's pjs. Dean wanted to start sleeping with Cas, even though he didn’t need sleep. Cas going to bed with a trench coat and suit on felt weird so Dean let him start wearing his Pajamas. 

“Dean,” Cas started, his voice raspy. “How do you come up with nicknames?” 

“Uh, I’m not really sure.” Dean responded, while lazily adjusting his pillow. “They just kinda come out. Some are based on personality. Some just, are just for ease. Like Cas. it's easier than saying Castiel.”

“What if I gave you a nickname?” Cas turned his neck towards Dean giving him the confused puppy look with the soft lamp light giving a little glare on his glassy blue eyes.

“You can if you want, it just can’t be a short form of my name, it's too short already.” Dean mostly wanted to reserve ‘D’ for his memories, as that's what Sam called him as a kid. Dean then pulled the cover over his body and signaled Cas to get in the bed with him. 

As Cas snuggled into the left side of the bed and slipped off his socks he started throwing out ideas. “What if I called you Squirrel like Crowley does?”

“No.”

“But it’s cute.”

“Crowley is weird and I don’t like the nickname. The person receiving the nickname either has to like it or they just give up after saying no like twice and it sticks. I will say no to squirrels until the day I rot.”

“Alright Dean. we can think about it tomorrow.” Cas put the Led Zeppelin Track in the cassette player on the nightstand and put it on the lowest volume. Dean could have noise to fall asleep to and Cas would have something to listen to instead of sitting in complete silence, which he was always okay with, but Dean created excuses so he didn't have to fall asleep to nothingness. 

Cas made sure Dean was comfortable, not too cold and not too hot, made sure he had a good day and then ran his fingers through Dean’s hair as he did every night, waiting to watch over him and protect him from nightmares. 

This time, Castiel also got time to think of nicknames for his love.

[thinking-destiel-thoughts]

A little late but it’s still Destiel Day somewhere so…here’s the opening to a current WIP (currently in my drafts as ‘Claire’s parent trap’) since I didn’t have any done for today.

I’ll put it below the “more” thing to avoid clogging up other people’s dashes

anyway, enjoy!

“Look, I just…I need your help for this case,”

Dean, Cas, and Sam look at Claire.

“Care to explain further?” Dean prompts.

“So the local college has a neighborhood nearby. I learned of four people who have lost their parents suddenly. The details are weird and I don’t know what it is. But I know that it goes after parents of college students who live at home,”

“So you need Cas,”

“I will help, of course,” Cas stands.

“I need more than Castiel. This thing…it’s going after gay couples. So I need two dads,”

“Why not use two moms? Donna and Jody—”

“Jody can’t leave Alex,” Claire interrupts. “Plus, I don’t think I could pass as their daughter, not with my personality. There’s a better fit.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

“I thought you’d be best for this, but Sam can—”

“I'll do it. I’m more your dad than Sam. Sam is like your weird uncle,”

“Whatever. Are you in?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean agrees, heart pounding in his rib cage. “What is my cover job?”

“Homemaker, stay-at-home dad,”

“Seriously?”

“We’ll use a house with a nice kitchen,”

“Alright, but you eat what I cook.”

She rolls her eyes. “Castiel, you’ll be a sales provider for AM radio, since that’s what my dad did…you know…before he became a vessel for a cosmic entity.”

“Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”

“Great,” Claire puts her bag on the table and pulls out a few things. “Here,”

“Dean Novak?” Dean looks at the ID she made for him. “Why are you—”

“If I’m taking stupid college classes, I want real credit for them, okay?” She slides Castiel one as well. “Plus it’ll be easier for you two to use your actual names,”

“But Cas is Jimmy Novak, technically,”

“Nope. Castiel is a nickname that stuck because of you. You met on a Thursday, but he was so nervous he forgot to give you his name; you jokingly called him Castiel. He asked you out on a Thursday, he proposed on a Thursday, and you were married on a Thursday.” Claire places down a marriage license and wedding rings.

“Right, Castiel is the angel of Thursday,” Dean snorts. “Should we be concerned that you forged us a marriage license already?”

“I didn’t forge it. It’s legally filed.”

“Claire! You can’t just legally marry two people!”

“Why? Is it going to affect the taxes you don’t pay?” She smirks. “Besides, I didn’t. I was going to, but someone already filed it.”

“What? Who would do that?” Dean can’t understand who would legally marry them.

“Uh…” Sam clears his throat. “Charlie and I may have gotten a little drunk when you had the mark. We were desperate to figure out a way to get it off of you. She was saying that maybe the mark was unholy so maybe we could get rid of it with holy matrimony…I didn’t think she actually did it.”

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 16

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Sorry Dean

Dean woke content. But his sleepy smile suddenly vanished when he realised you had gone. As he sat up in bed,  he sighed sadly. Sam watched his brother’s pain, but he knew you too were in pain  and he knew you had to deal with it. Dean Winchester was your life how could you come to terms with him throwing his away. Dean and Sam had picked up a hunt, some tooth fairy witch bullcrap. You felt like a bad friend when Sam texted you updates about him and Dean and any cases they were doing. You didn't want to hear about Dean but you did want to know they were both safe. Ellen and Jo watched you closely. They had tried everything to make you smile,  even Brad and the customers had tried to cheer you up. But your heart and soul was broken. Then came a message you never thought you would receive. " I need you. Sam is working with a demon. Dean" You chuckled a bit when you saw he had signed his name them you started to cry. Did he really think you could delete his number. You sighed and packed a bag. As you walked out of your room you made your way to Ellen, "It's Sam” you bit your lip trying to hold back your tears. "You got this or do you need someone?" she asked. "I got it" you whispered unsure. Ellen hugged you tight. "Love you" "Love you too" you squeezed back. As Dean throw water on his face trying to understand what the hell was happening between him and Sam a knock came at the door. Sam cocked his gun and slowly made his way over to the door. "banana hammock" you said loudly. "Seriously,  you called y/n?" Sam spat.. "Well you won't listen to me " Dean shrugged "but you seem to take on board what she thinks." "you do know I can hear you guys whispering and it's fucking freezing out here so open the fucking damn door before I kick it in" you tried to sound menacing. The two brothers burst out laughing and when Sam finally opened the door, you walked in and slapped him on the shoulder. "What was that for?" Sam pouted,  rubbing his arm. "Your lucky I can't reach that big ole head of yours otherwise it would have been up there. Keep me outside in the cold huh?” "Well in my defense,  I didn't know it was you" he tried to explain. "Don't make me hit you again, you knew it was me." You huffed throwing your bag on to the bed. You marched back towards Sam and slapped him again. "Y/n what the hell" he yelled. "hell no Sammy" you pointed at him "you will take what I give you. " You looked so angry that Sam sat on the bed like a scolded child.

"A fucking demon Sammy, a demon. And your meant to be the brains of the group" you continue pacing on the spot rubbing your temples, trying not to cry. "Excuse me" Dean quipped. "Not your turn " you raised your eyebrows and pointed at him “and we all know Sam is the brains and your the eye candy" Yea well what does that make you?" Dean snorted. "Well I'm not part of the group,  am I?" you spat. Dean now realising how angry you actually were thought it best not to make any more jokes and sat on the other side of the bed with his head lowered. You turned to Sam "Well I'm listening,  taking advice from demons,  running around just offing people.” "Not physically” Sam argued. You shot him a look which caused him to shrink back. "Tell me why Sam" you rubbed your hands down your face “please tell me there is a good excuse. You slumped on to the bed beside him. “this isn't you” you all but whimpered. "Well your gone, Dean only has a few months left,  who else do I have to stay here with in a crap hole of a world, I'm alone.” Sam blabbered on about turning in to Dean you turned to Dean and could see the guilt he was carrying. But as soon as you turned to give Sam a telling off. Dean groaned in pain and fell to the floor. You ran over to him "bulldog" you whispered not even realising the nickname that came out of your mouth. "Sam what the hell is going on?" your tried to remain calm. "The coven" Dean whimpered "it has to be" Sam shot up and started ripping the room apart. You held on to Dean. "I swear to god Dean Winchester if you die I'm gonna hurt you " you warned. As Dean tried to laugh he shot up,  blood spitting out his mouth. "Sam?" you voice panicking. "I'm looking " Sam's tone remained the same. Dean was struggling to breath and you held him "I got you,  you're okay.” You soothed. “you're okay” "Try the mattress " you pleaded, but Sam was already ripping it apart. "It's not here" he shouted. Dean gasped in your arms and slumped down. "Dean please no" you pleaded with him. Your head shot up in shock as Sam ran out the door. "Sam" you screamed after him. As Deans breath shallowed you begged him "Dean please don't leave me. I need you. Please." you begged. You felt yourself being thrown to the side. And saw Ruby grab Dean. "Get the fuck off him bitch" you jumped towards her. As you both fought she sighed “I don't have time for this” and she threw you against the wall, you head hitting it with a bang knocking you out. As she grabbed Dean,  she threw him on the bed spilling a liquid substance down his throat. "After this you two never get to call me bitch again" As Dean breathing came back to normal he ran to you. "Hey" he gently stroked your face "y/n." "Did you have to knock her out?" he snapped. "Do you think she would let me cure you?" she barked back “she's fucking strong or crazy I haven't decided” "Dean" you whispered "how?" "Me" Ruby answered "I told you, I'm on your side" "What was that stuff and why did it taste like ass?" Dean asked helping you to your feet checking you over. "It's called witchcraft " Ruby answered then walked out the door, neither of you paying much attention. As Dean continued to check every inch of you, you grabbed his face and kissed him "I was so scared Dean" tears running down your face. "Me too sweetheart" he kissed you back. You both stood in each others arms. Relived and thankful you both were given back time. "Are you staying?" Dean whispered unsure. "I'm staying" you wept and you both kissed again. Meanwhile Sam was losing his battle against the demon. As he was pressed up against the wall Dean rushed in only for him to be to be also thrown against the wall. "2 for the price one 1" the demon smirked. "Wait Ruby answered "let me serve you again." As Dean shot Sam a dirty look it was quickly changed to a smirk when the two ladies started to talk. Only Dean Winchester could be turned on in a moment like this,  you rolled your eyes. Your attention was quickly brought back when the two demons stated fighting each other. While they were distracted you grabbed the girl and dragged her to the sofa. You pressed your finger against your lips and pointed at yourself  "Good guy, I'm human, show me what she taught you on how to get rid of the others" you whispered. The girl then started her spell. When the demon started to choke, Sam and Dean feel to the ground. As the demon turned to look at you both she raised her hand and smirked and just as she was about to snap her fingers Dean grabbed the knife and stabbed her repeatedly.  As her body fell to the floor he turned to you. " You all okay?" You hadn't realised you had grabbed the girl and threw her under you.

"No" her voice muffled.

"All good" you nodded looking at Dean furrowing your eyebrows at him when you noticed him raising his own at you and smirking,  you scolded him “fuck sake Winchester is there anything that doesn't turn you on?“

“when it come to you, no” he smoothly replied and you felt yourself going red. 

"Samme" Dean shouted. "Yea all good" Sam wheezed. Dean grabbed Sam and they made their way over to you. You walked past Dean and extended your hand. Ruby looked for a second confused and you nodded once. As you helped her to her feet. You let go of her hand. "Thank you" you said. "But this doesn't mean I trust you" "Same” she shot back. "Now go,  I'll clean this mess up.” She motioned towards the door. You three checked in to a motel far way as possible. Sam was in the bathroom and you turned to Dean. "I'm just gonna fill Ellen in" grabbing your phone but as you went to hop of the bed Dean grabbed you pulling you back down. "Promise to come back?" "Will you make it worth my while?" you smirked.

He kissed you hard. "I guess that's a yes" you laughed "I'll be 10 mins" you kissed his nose and went to phone Ellen. Just as soon as your were about to hit call the lights flickered and your hair stood up. You put your phone away and looked across the car park to see Ruby. " thought we had seen the last of you " you said flatly. And she just smiled. "So all demons were humans? " you asked her. "Once” she said "that's what happens in hell, people forget who they are. She continued. As you stood in thought she looked at you and said “the answer is yes " "What answer?" knowing what she meant but also not wanting to know what she meant. “It's what will happen to Dean. It might take awhile but it will happen he will turn in to a demon.” "I will save him' you stated "You can't save him but you can help Sam get ready" She replied "Get ready for what?" You questioned. "He needs to be able to stab someone the way Dean did the way you do, you have to show him,  if we are going win." "And why do you want us to win" you questioned. "Cause I remember what's it’s like to be human " Ruby sighed. As she went to walk away you shouted after her. "I will save him,  no-one should doubt that" and then she vanished. You went back in to the motel room and locked the door. You looked at Dean for a minute who was watching the TV and your heart broke. "You okay? " he asked breaking you put of your trance. "Yea of course just been a long day. “You forced yourself to smile.. "I know the cure for that" he opened his arms wide waiting for you to crawl in to them. You climbed in beside him wrapped your body around his. You needed to feel his every curve and smell his scent you needed to. "Should have called you koala instead of Pikachu” he laughed. "Just remember I'm in the room" Sam warned from the other bed. "Like you'll let us forget " Dean laughed. Dean turned off the TV and snuggled down holding you tightly back. "Night he whispered kissing you gently "love you" "Love you" you replied you eyes wide opened,  you knew you were never gonna have a good night sleep again.

[fallouttboy]

i feel bad just having one post for trans sam supernatural soooo.

he figures out he’s not a girl when he’s around 13. he knew for a while, how he didn’t identify with the other girls his age (as come and go as they came, what with moving all the time) and he didn’t identify with whatever john was putting onto him, he wasn’t a girl. he wasn’t john’s daughter or dean’s sister.

so he starts going by sam instead of samantha. it’s what dean’s always called him, ever since he was a little kid. it always made him warm on the inside, getting called the nickname made him feel loved in a world where he was so desperately trying to be, at the very least, noticed.

john didn’t take it well, but then again no one expected him to. it took dean a little bit, getting used to having a brother and not a sister anymore. after a few months he warmed up real fast, making sure to always remind sam how badass of a brother he is. dean didn’t really fully get it until they were much much older, living in hotels and sharing clothes as adults. he didn’t quite get what it meant for sam to be Sam, brother, son, boy. because that’s all dean’s ever been, he’s just been A Guy, that’s what his life has been. he didn’t grasp the implications and intricacies that went into sam’s transition, both physically and emotionally/mentally. he loved hearing sam talk about it though (most of the time, he did want to throttle the kid more than a handful of times. sleeping in a chevy car together for a majority of your lives will do that to a guy).

my personal headcanon is that sam’s top surgery is actually from dean. so “surgery” is a bit of a stretch, it’s more akin to a fourth grader using normal scissors instead of safety ones. the scars are jagged, angry red lines where fullness used to be. they’re not pretty, they look like a botch job by a drunk doctor, but that’s also kinda what makes sam love it. they could never afford actual healthcare, let alone a proper hospital visit. their idea of high class medicine is name brand cough syrup from a grocery store instead of store brand from a gas station. he’s given dean stitches with dental floss and a sewing needle, he’s put his foot in the snow and sat outside bundled in more cotton than is necessary when he sprained his own foot on a jog as an adult. this is the norm.

and so when dean came home a little while after john, showing up with a vicious grin and hands behind his back, sam knew something was up. they’d just raided a dentists office run by vampires (ironic, right) and dean snuck back in, grabbed a tank of the laughing gas and a few tubes of numbing cream and a mask, and hooked sam up. it was stupid, incredibly dangerous, very very bad idea and sam would never, ever recommend this to anyone, ever, literally in the whole of time forever and ever. do not let your 18 year old brother gas you up and chop your tits off. but once the cream was all over (literally, completely all over, down to the waist of sam’s jeans), it felt so fucking weird to not have a chest. he was gassed up and couldn’t feel his chest, but when he woke up, he was bandaged in a shit load of gauze and flat chested. he hurt, like a bitch, a real fucking bitch, but he was Sam now, he was a boy.

luckily, john decided that was the time for him to fuck off and fight some demon or something, leaving the brothers at a motel in des moines. sam got to lay in bed for weeks, watching shitty motel cable and making dean be his personal assistant. after a long while, dean was the one to cut the bandages off, sam was too afraid to look. “holy shit, i didn’t do bad!” “what, really? how do i look?” “like my brother, man.”

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching No Rest for the Wicked

Welcome to “Do Genitals Have a Skeletal System in Hell?: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

  Up today, s3e16: No Rest for the Wicked.

 Dean’s got days now, and the desperation leads the boys to fight over what to try next. Ruby has a plan Dean doesn’t like, and Sam is frustrated (again) by Dean’s refusal to trust her. Meanwhile, Lilith, the demon who reportedly holds Dean’s contract, has possessed a young girl and is using her to torment and kill members of the child’s family. Bobby is able to pinpoint Lilith’s location, and the boys infiltrate the home in an attempt to kill Lilith. They fail. In the final moments before midnight, Dean hears hell hounds. The dogs, invisible to everyone else, rip him to shreds, leaving no doubt that he's dead. The final shots of the episode zoom in through Dean’s sightless eyes, where we see him suspended from meat hooks in what can only be hell, yelling his brother’s name in anguish.

 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

 Lor:

 SEASON FINALE RECAP CARRY OOOOON

 Mace:

 YAS

 oh DEAN

  Lor:

 YES

 Lor:

 wow it's like the start of an Arrow season. running through the woods

 Mace:

 HAHAHAHA

  Lor:

 oh Dean. if you WILL read horror lore before bed...

 Mace:

 snork

 “let’s never do that"

good boy, Sammy

  Lor:

 YES

(I LOVE THAT THEY FAIL)

 Mace:

 (YEP)

 I love it when Bobby calls them “kid"

  Lor:

 YES

they are his BOYS

 Mace:

 THEY ARE

 INDIANA

WOOT

  Lor:

 "when Bella breathes, the air comes out crooked"

 Mace:

 HA

  Lor:

 poor Dean. he's gonna go to hell for 40 years and when he gets back, Sammy is STILL hanging out after school with Ruby

 Mace:

 “just no” and the way his voice breaks

  Lor:

 YAAAS

 Mace:

 ooof, yeah

  Lor:

 I bet Sam is absolutely going to do what his brother asked him to

 Mace:

 SNORK!!

 Ruby, not everything needs a cutesy nickname

  Lor:

 right?

especially when you occupy space with *the* Dean Winchester, the queen of that

 Mace:

 SNORK

  Lor:

 oh how I enjoy watching Laurel chew on a paper bag and calling it acting

/sarcasm

 Mace:

 HA right?!

 “I knew SAM wouldn’t listen"

  Lor:

 pets him

 dicks don't have spines. generally

 Mace:

 well maybe they do where she’s from

  Lor:

 SNORK

 I LOVE HIM

 Mace:

 you do? really?!

get the smelling salts

  Lor:

I know it truly is shocking

 Mace:

 so shocking

 OH CLEVER BOY

  Lor:

 YAAAS

he's so SMART

 Mace:

 Sammy is looking very lovely today

  Lor:

 he is

 Mace:

 AHA! Dean’s been watching the show

  Lor:

 i'm enjoying Dean's light-colored t-shirt too

 HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH

 Mace:

 YES

 “I totally rehearsed that speech, too"

I want to see that pls

  Lor:

 (I HATE that they try to position 327 as them finally not doing this/breaking this habit of sacrificing for each other when there is NO reason to think they didn't have other options that didn't involve making a bad deal to try first)

  YES

 oh MAN I forgot THIS is in THIS episode

 Mace:

 (YUP)

 oof, yeah, this is rough

 this kid is SO GOOD

  Lor:

 she IS

  Lor:

 is that... plastic?

 Mace:

 Bobby with the ol’ distributer cap trick

  Lor:

 would that be in a 67 impala?

(I am legitimately asking you)

  Lor:

 FAMILY DON'T END IN BLOOD BOY

 Mace:

 i wouldn’t think so but maybe as a replacement part?

 FAMILY DON’T THAT’S RIGHT

  Lor:

 mmm

 Mace:

 OHANA BITCHES

  Lor:

 omg abashed Dean

 DAMN STRAIGHT OHANA BITCHES

 Mace:

 OMGHESSINGING

  Lor:

 YAAAAAAS

 Mace:

 oh dean honey

  Lor:

 omg the way he stops singing

 Mace:

 THE TAILLIGHT IS OUT ON HIS SIDE

ON. HIS. SIDE.

  Lor:

 OF COURSE IT IS

 Mace:

 Mr. Hagar HAHAHAHA

  Lor:

 LOL

 oh honey. his FACE

 Mace:

 YEP

  Lor:

 "so you can see hell's other bitches"

BOBBY

 Mace:

 HAHAHAHA

 knives don’t make that sound when they’re cutting cake

  Lor:

 the juxtaposition of the little girl stuff and the horrible stuff is brilliant

 LOL

they don't

 Mace:

 it really is

  Lor:

 Bobby calling Dean son i cannot

 Mace:

 yep

  Lor:

 everybody stop hurting Dean

 Mace:

 yes, he needs to be perfect for the devil dogs

  Lor:

 I was thinking more about alleviating his suffering but SURE MACE

 Mace:

 SNORK!!!

  Lor:

 is something important happening here, bc I might be stuck imagining myself as the dad here in ONLY this scene

 Mace:

 HAHAHA

  Lor:

 I love that the mom catches on immediately

 Mace:

 YES

 “YES YOU ARE” oh BOYS

  Lor:

 I was JUST gonna say that

THEIR FACES

 Mace:

 YES

  Lor:

 YES DEAN he should remember what YOU taught him

 Mace:

 EXACTLY

SCREW JOHN

 oh SAMMY

  Lor:

 HOW does Jensen make like one tiny muscle in his face twitch like that?!

 Mace:

 no idea

 it’s not that pretty [Ed. Lor here. I feel compelled, COMPELLED, I tell you, to note that this was not in reference to Jensen’s face. okay. carry on. (sorry.)]

  Lor:

 it really isn't

 Mace:

 look, i’m concerned about Dean but having him sprawled on the table like that is...distracting

  Lor:

 it REALLY is

 Mace:

 oh SAMMY

  Lor:

 ooooof SAM

 Mace:

 oh Bean

  Lor:

 the zoom into hell through his eye is SO COOL

 Mace:

 it IS

  Lor:

 SAAAAAAAAAAM

 Mace:

 OOOOF

  Lor:

 and the second scream of his name over the credits

 Mace:

 hold on DeanDean, Cas is coming

   Lor:

 YAAAAAAAAAAAS

[mysticaldeanvoidhorse]

May I please request a Dean x reader imagine where he finds out she's really ticklish while they're cuddling and he just tortures her with tickles? Especially on her neck where she's most ticklish? :)

Hello Anon! Thank you for the request!! I am SO sorry for the late response, I have barely had time to come on this app, so this story took way longer than it should have. But here it is, I hope that it was what you wanted!

@streets-in-paradise @lyarr24 @nancymcl @hobby27

Tickle Monster

  In the bunker after a long hunt, you were excited to finally relax.  You and Dean had made a promise to watch some trashy old movie he liked that he had wanted to show you forever.  You didn’t mind watching it but pretending you didn’t drive him crazy and you enjoyed watching him squirm.  He usually had the upper hand so it was fun to change it around.

      Once you had come in, dropped off your bags and talked to Sam about how it was a success, you went to shower.  It felt good to wash the dirt off from the hunt.  You wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and watch a movie.  You had gotten yourself clean, and decided to let your hair air dry.  Walking into Dean’s room, you knew he would already be waiting for you.

“Are you ready to watch this movie?”  Dean said with a grin.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.  Are you sure you want to watch this?”  You ask him with only slightly fake annoyance.

“You’ll love it, I promise.”  He said, moving over on the bed to allow room for you.

“You promise, huh?  And what good is your word, Dean?”  You teased him.

“You wound me, darlin’.  But my word is good to you.”  He fake flirted.

“Whatever, Casanova.  Just start the movie so it ends faster.”  You shoved him over a bit as you crawled in beside him.  He made room and put his arm around you.

     After awhile, you began to yawn.  You were able to suppress it before, but this time Dean had noticed.

“Am I really boring you that much?”  He joked.

“Nah, but the hunt tonight really wore me out I guess.”

“You did good tonight, kid.”  He had given you that nickname the first time you met.  It bothered you because you weren’t a kid but the name stuck and it grew on you.

“Thanks Old Man.”  The name was in response.  He didn’t like it either, but like you, it had grown on him.

“Besides, I know a good way to stay awake”  He wiggled his eyebrows at you.  This caused you to jab him in the side.

“And miss this movie?  I can’t keep my eyes from the screen.”  You said as sarcastically as you could.

“Whatever kid.”  You both settled back in and he began playing with your hair.  It was calming for both of you.  

     Pretty soon you could feel yourself nodding off.  That was until you felt Dean tickling your side.

“You awake?”  He asked as you jumped.

“Dean don’t even start that!”  You turned to look at him, a warning look in your eyes.  This only caused him to laugh.

“Then don’t fall asleep on your new favorite movie.”  He countered.

“I am NOT asleep.”  You crossed your arms, protecting your side.

“Not now, you’re welcome.”  He was insufferable sometimes.

“Don’t start something you know you will lose.”  You warned.

“Oh really?  I never lose a fight.”  He challenged with that playful look he carried in his eyes.

“You will lose this one.”  You stared each other down, until an unspoken truce was called and you settled back into his side.  Little did he know you were slowly reaching your hand over, still having them crossed so he didn’t see the movement.  When you knew he had his guard down you tickled his side.  The big man beside you jumped higher than he did when he had Yellow Fever.  You hadn’t seen him so startled.

“That’s how it feels!”  You laughed in triumph.  You both were ticklish and knew that was the best way to get to each other.

“Oh now you’ve done it!”

“NO, we are done, Dean.  I am just finishing what you started.”

“No way.”  Fear was evident in your eyes, as he moved swiftly and had you pinned under him.  He began his relentless assault of tickles across your skin as you laughed and screamed for him to stop.  He didn’t but you had managed to free an arm to return the gesture.  This had caused him to fall more on top of you with his breath against your neck.  He knew how ticklish your neck was, and he breathed his hot breath causing you to shriek.

“DEAN!”  You shouted.  “DON’T do that!  You know how ticklish I am!”  You said in between laughs where you couldn’t catch your breath.  He just continued his assault and you were now crying laughing.  You kept ‘fighting’ back but knew you would lose, he always won tickle fights.

“Okay, do you call Uncle?”  he asked, slightly getting off of you to see your face.  You managed to wipe your eyes a little and catch your breath.

“Never!”  You said, sneak attacking him back.

“Oh now you’ve done it!”  You continued your fight for a little bit, then you heard the end credits rolling with the stereotypical 80s song running.  You both sat up, catching your breath.  You then looked over to Dean who looked as much of a loser in the fight as you and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re right Dean, best movie I ever saw.”

[wearywinchester]

With You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When the sleeping arrangements appear to be less than ideal, something more comes out of it.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, fluff

A huff.

That’s one of the first things you had done when you had initially found out about your sleeping arrangements earlier that morning, delivered to you by a smiling Sam who’d tried to soften the blow with his famous puppy eyes. Those very eyes only half worked on you this time, and maybe it would’ve gone into full effect had you not looked at his brother who’d been standing at your other side with a knowing grin on his lips.

You must have asked Sam nearly a dozen times if he’d been sure that was the very last room and each time you were met with the same answer, each time you were met with the same grin that was returned with a narrowed stare. You were tempted to sleep in the car, even on the concrete of the parking lot so long as you didn’t have to share a bed with the older Winchester. But none of those options seemed to check out.

A huff is what you’d done upon entering the motel room later that evening, the lone bed awaiting you as if to taunt you and your very fate.

The hunt hadn’t gone exactly as planned, having gone south just enough to have Dean thrown through a wall by a more than hungry vampire. It wasn’t anything a few bandages couldn’t fix, a job he’d asked you to do.

Now here you were, standing between Dean’s thighs as he sat at the edge of said bed, leaning back against his palms until you’d told him not to with a huff.

“I’m quite sure you could’ve done this yourself you know,” you mumble, grabbing ahold of his chin when he shied away from you at the sting of the antiseptic on his face. “Actually I’m positive.”

“You do it better,” he said, a smile forming on his bloodied lips.

“That was stupid what you did back there,” you say, doing your best to distract yourself from thinking of just how close you were to him in that very moment. Though trying your hardest didn’t seem to be the solution you were looking to have. “Really stupid.”

“Oh, you mean saving you? I had it covered.”

“I had it covered. I’m not the one who got thrown through a wall now am I?”

He scrunched his nose and mocked your words, an action he came to regret as he winced while he brought his fingers up to his split lip and now it was your turn to smile. He knew full well you were right but he’d never admit it, not in a million years. That was something he’d keep to himself. Truth was, he felt it was a little too close of a call back there, more dangerous than he’d liked and he couldn’t help the instincts he’d had to step in. If he’d gotten bumps and bruises along the way then so be it. That was far more worth it to him than the damage being done to you instead.

But that was also something he’d leave to himself for the time being.

“Could you be a little more gentle, Bruce Banner?” He teases, bumping you with his knee. “Feels like you’re doing more damage than fangs did back there.”

You purse your lips at his words, landing a soft punch to his shoulder that wiped the last traces of his smile from his face in favor of an equally unamused expression.

“What? You said I��m the hulk.” You shrug nonchalantly, flashing him a smile. “Just living up to the name.”

You notice the way the corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly as he looked away, any traces of faux annoyance leaving his face and you made a concerted effort to be gentler this time, just a little. You also noticed the way he’d relaxed some, save for a few nose scrunches each and every time you’d cleaned the scrape on his face.

“Might hurt a little less if you held still,” you suggested after a while later when he’d groaned, the bite behind your tone something he noticed immediately.

“Ease up with the attitude, will you, sweetheart?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward again, more so when you roll your eyes at the nickname. The one that made your heart flutter and your cheeks grow warm whenever it rolled off his tongue in your direction. The one that fell from his lips with a sarcastic edge that never failed to weave around the single word most times, but not always. Yeah, that one.

“Be quiet, will you, sweetheart?”

You breathe out a huff through your nose, lips turned downward and the slightest of frowns as your brows knit together. The remnants of his smile still remain at your counter as his eyes fall closed once more, lashes curling softly over the very tops of his freckled cheeks. The silence that fell over the small room should’ve been a good thing, should’ve been beneficial for your ability to focus on the task at hand but your attention has since been pulled elsewhere. It’d been long gone the moment the two of you stepped into that room.

It felt as though the walls were closing in on you inch by inch, as if the air conditioned room was just as hot as the summer air outside. You wanted to make excuses for yourself, to think of something logical enough to pass it off as anything other than what it was. Perhaps it’d been a little stuffy in that room, it certainly was hot enough to be. Maybe you were still running on adrenaline from the hunt you’d come back from not more than half an hour ago. Or maybe it was the way you stood inches from the older Winchester as you tended to his wounds while he sat with that same smirk he’d been wearing for the last five minutes. The way he nudged you with his knee each time stung the scrape along his jaw.

That. It was definitely that.

“You know,” he started, tilting his head away from you with a scrunched nose as his hand circles around your wrist. “I’m convinced you’re doin’ this on purpose. Because you hate me after all.”

His brow was raised and you could’ve sworn you’d seen a brief moment of sincerity cross his face, something just as quickly hidden by the grin tugging lightly at his lips. Your eyes roll then, head shaking as a laugh falls past your lips and his hand falls from your wrist slowly.

“I don’t hate you,” you sigh, quiet enough to cushion the embarrassment of your words but loud enough for him to hear.

“So you like me?”

Yes, maybe you do.

Your gaze shifts from your hands back to his eyes, your stare narrowed as you bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t think that’s what I said.”

He laughs softly, dimple forming at the corner of his mouth as he gives a nod, then a hum as if he’d been mulling over the meaning of your four word statement spoken just moments before. As if he didn’t believe a single one of those words to be true, as though he had seen right through you. If he did, he didn’t say anything, eyes sparkling at you.

You hoped he hadn’t seen how your hands shook as you worked, continuing to blot the peroxide soaked cotton ball over the scrape lining his jaw. He didn’t particularly like the sensation, the action stinging sharply with each press of it along the fresh wound. You tried your hardest to ignore the way he’d gathered a fistful of the comforter within his hand, or the way his very jaw tensed under your palm. You tried not to notice the way he’d scooted closer to the edge of the bed, closer to you.

You swallowed, biting your cheek as you grabbed a fresh cotton pad and wet it with more antiseptic. Now it was the part you’d been saving for last, the part you’d put off as long as you possibly could in hopes that maybe it’d magically heal itself. Maybe it’d disappear if you’d waited just a few seconds longer. But fate didn’t humor you this time, the cut along the curve of his bottom lip still very much there and waiting to be tended to as hues of scarlet sat smudged around it, pooling slightly at the corner of his mouth.

It’s not a big deal. Nothing worthy enough to make your stomach twist in knots, nothing to add to the shake in your hands or the quickened pace of your heart. It was just Dean Winchester, the man you swore got on your last nerve and not at all was the source of your butterflies over time.

Definitely not a big deal.

“Would it kill you to hold still?” You ask, huffing once more.

“No, but you’re cute when you’re angry,” he says, brow raised in amusement.

You settled your hand on his jaw, thumb resting just under his lip to keep him stilled in place though it was becoming all the more difficult to hold your focus now that you’d done so. He was grinning at you again, soft as it lingered on his lips, careful to not tug at the split adorning it or the pale crimson smeared lightly over the edge that you were quick to wipe away before your heart beat out of your chest. You swiped your thumb over his bottom lip as you did so, your breath hitching softly.

“Something wrong?” He asked, the ever familiar tease to his words not lost on you.

“What makes you say that?”

When you look up, you meet his gaze and you’re starting to wonder just how long it’d been that he’d been looking at you like that. In such a way that you bit the inside of your cheek to try your hardest to keep the traces of a smile beginning to develop from becoming obvious. What had also been obvious was the fact that your hand was still on his cheek, his stubble scratching lightly against your palm and you could feel each and every time it’d clenched, or the way his voice rumbled just so under your fingertips.

You pretended you couldn’t see the details in his eyes—every shade of green and every fleck of yellow that swirled within them all framed by lashes that curled away from them. You pretended you couldn’t see the smattering of freckles that peppered across the bridge of his nose, more sparse as they danced across the very tops of his cheeks, ones you hadn’t ever noticed until you were just mere inches from his face. Said freckles dotted along his skin, meshing with the pink of his lips that you’d just been tending to before you got caught up with seemingly more pressing matters.

It was becoming increasingly more apparent just how close you’d been to the green eyed hunter when you felt the warmth of his breath fan over your skin, over the pad of your thumb. It was near dizzying when it swept over you, his once teasing smirk falling in favor of a much softer smile. Of course you’d see that, you were staring.

You were staring.

“Y/n?”

You swallowed thickly, clearing your throat in hopes to dissolve some of the tension that was more than apparent in the room. It didn’t work. You dropped your hand from his face in favor of scratching the back of your neck, though the action hadn’t looked as calm as you wanted, all but jerking your hand away as if touching him for a moment longer would sear your skin.

It was then that you turned away from him, your attention fixed on fumbling with the first aid kit that lay sifted through next to him on the bed. Your cheeks burned under his gaze, at the moment you’d just shared that felt as though it’d lasted far longer than it was. The time was indiscernible, but the way your heart hammered in your chest and the way your hands trembled slightly as you haphazardly stuffed cotton pads and unused alcohol wipes was very easy to notice in your eyes.

“Y/n.”

You were so caught up in passing off the last chunk of time as anything other than what it was, as if it didn’t happen, that you hadn’t answered him the first time. It wasn’t until his hand caught your wrist that you looked at him once more.

“You’re good to go, Winchester,” you say, finding your way back to your usual banter in hopes to stave off the remaining tension though you knew it was no use. “Don’t go looking for any more vamps. I’m afraid you just might cry if I have to give you stitches.”

He laughed behind you as you made your way to the bathroom, your smile widening at the sudden sound of his protests upon realizing just what it is you had said.

You closed the door behind you, back pressed to the wood as you let out the breath you’d been holding and you tipped your head back. It was only then that your heart rate returned to nearly normal, eyes falling closed for a brief few moments. You hadn’t entirely been sure what it was that just happened, if anything at all. Though it was more than apparent that maybe you didn’t have it out for him as much as you let on, you knew that to be true as much as you didn’t want it to be.

You took the couple of steps to the sink and ran your hands under the faucet, cooling the heat in your cheeks as you splashed handfuls of water over your skin. You brushed your teeth once—even twice for good measure, doing something, anything to borrow as much time as you could before you had to go back out there. The way you felt jittery, the butterflies in your stomach each and every time his hand brushed over yours or the moment he met your gaze even if it’d only been for a mere second. The way your heart hadn’t quite stopped its racing no matter how much time had gone by. It made you feel as though you were a teenager again with some silly crush.

Now you were sharing a bed with green eyes and you feared this just might be the way you go. Not by a freak accident or a great big ugly monster, but by sharing a bed with Dean Winchester.

With another deep breath and countless minutes later you swung open the door, Dean already having been settled in bed. His boots sat neatly on the floor by his side, jeans strewn next to them. He flashed you a grin, brow quirking upwards.

“Here I thought you ran off on me.”

You roll your eyes at the assumption though you were strongly considering it, more so when you’d noticed the bed was borderline too small for two. But you pushed that down and pulled back the covers, settling close to the edge of your side with your back to him and the blankets up over your shoulders.

He took note of the way you lay huddled on the very edge of the bed, nearly falling to the floor should he move around the slightest bit. Your back was to him but you could still feel his eyes on you, your gaze fixed on the tacky framed painting hanging crooked on the wall.

“Y/n/n, I don’t bite,” he sighs, voice soft and words sincere.

“Yeah right, Winchester,” you mumble, a smile pulling at your lips.

You hear him huff, feel the bed move a little bit in what you assumed was him rolling over for the night. You were ready to dig your heels in and sleep on the edge of the bed out spite even if it was uncomfortable. Even if you did want to tuck in a little closer because you hadn’t hated him as much as you had let on. But you don’t think you’d ever tell green eyes that, not in a million years. He’d never let you live it down and you feel you know that for sure.

“Maybe it’s you that bites,” he suggests, humor in his tone and a grin behind his words.

You snort, head shaking softly.

“Maybe it is.”

You can hear his quiet laugh behind you, the room falling silent once more save for the tick of the clock in the nightstand and the howl of the wind just on the other side of the wall. You’d since move away from the mattress’s edge just merely an inch, unnoticeable by most but more than apparent for you.

It’s quiet when you think about what’s running through his mind, if he’s thinking about what had happened not long before what’s happening now just as much as you had been. If he’d given it second thought at all. You’d been curious as to whether or not he’d gotten just as flustered. Not that it mattered. Not that it didn’t. You were quite sure you were the only one dwelling on the subject. For all you knew, the newfound silence could have been telling that Dean had already fallen asleep and you were perfectly content with pretending the last hour had never happened. More than content, in fact.

That was the plan until the silence was broken.

“Hey, you uh…” he starts, tone much more serious than it had been not long before. “You don’t have to share a bed with me if you don’t want to. I can take the floor.”

His offer was sincere, in fact, that’s the most serious he’d been since you nearly had a close call on the hunt earlier that day. Obviously, he’d followed it with a witty counter and pursed lips, something about learning to not be so reckless falling from his lips. Regardless, he’d meant what he’d just said.

You roll your eyes as you finally move to roll over.

“Dean, don’t be ridiculous—”

Your breath hitched once more when you nearly brushed noses with him, not really just how small the bed was and just how close he’d be. Soon you find yourself in the same situation as you had been once already that day, cheeks burning and heart racing. The same heart fluttering, time stopping situation that made it feel like something even as simple as breathing at a steady rate seems like the most difficult task to achieve to date.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

The corner up his mouth quirked up, an indicator that was forever telling that he’d been up to something.

“I’m serious, I’m sure it’s not easy to share a bed with Dean Winchester,” he says, a laugh leaving his lips when you swat at his shoulder.

“I don’t think you realize how much of a pain you are,” you grumble, brows knit together in a display of discontent though the way you bite your lip to hide your amusement says otherwise.

What he said, it was obvious, you knew the first time he said it it’d been sincere. He didn’t need to tell you it was for you to believe it. You knew him well enough to know the difference between him poking fun to get on your last nerve and when he’s truthful, you’re just lucky enough to get both.

“Oh but I think I do.” You huff out a sigh, lips pursed as you look up at him and he lets out a breath of his own as he looks at you. “Seriously, I mean it. I can get comfortable on the floor if you want me to.”

You look up at him, laughing softly in a way he knew wasn’t teasing this time. “It’s fine, Dean, really.”

“Oh, so you do like me?”

“Who said that?”

He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbow as his jaw rests on his palm. He pretends to ponder the question as though it required much thought. “Well, you’re lookin’ at me like that again. Like you did a little bit ago when you were patching me up.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you say, shoving his shoulder again. His reasoning was soft and not entirely teasing, not mocking either and you knew for a fact you’ve got to get better at hiding your emotions. You can’t fight your smile this time, one that was very telling to him that you’d been up to no good. Couldn’t be.

“What?” He asked, face displaying amused curiosity.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I’m thinking maybe you just want to be close to me,” you say, matter of factly as you look up at him, trying your hardest to take the heat off of you.

“Oh really?” He asks, amusement on his tongue as you nod. “Your cheeks just might be hotter than the sun right now, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand away, though you stay right where you are. Even though you promised you hated him, you knew you didn’t. You knew it was far more than that, and you knew you missed the feeling of his hand on your cheek. He knew it too. You hated that your very emotions were so easily pinpointed by him, you were convinced your every thought was too for that matter. You were starting to wonder if you’d been that transparent or if he’d just known you better than you knew yourself.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep in the car with Sam,” you say, though you made no effort to move his hand from your cheek.

He simply hums, nodding his head as his eyes squinted in disbelief that you’d actually consider subjecting yourself to Sam’s snoring in such close quarters. He knew you wouldn’t do that either.

You were doomed.

Never mind the fact that you had now been sharing the same pillow, never mind the fact that you were close enough to feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips, more so with every word he spoke. You were far too distracted by the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth in a way you knew meant he surely knew you were full of it. By the way his hand settles lightly over your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in a soft motion.

Your heart bounded as you looked at him, as your cheeks continued to burn under his fingertips. It was then that you did it.

You leaned forward, the inches between you becoming centimeters, centimeters falling to nothing as your lips brushed over his own. You felt him smile, the softness of his laughter sounding against your lips as his hand remained on your cheek and the tips of his fingers tangled in your hair. It wasn’t more than soft touches of the others lips, the second kiss longer than the first, and the third sweeter than the last. And even though you’d parted, neither of you strayed far as your smiles lingered in the close proximity.

He laughs again, fingers brushing over the top of your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin. It’s that all familiar mix of humor and something a little bit more.

“And here you said you didn’t like me,” he says, the tip of his nose bumping yours.

“And I just might change my mind.”

With that he grabbed your hand, pulling you in closer before he rolled to lay on his back. You settled down on his chest, head over his heart as your smile lingered—you hadn’t seen the one to match yours as his eyes fell closed, but it’d been there.

“So does this mean—”

“Night Dean.”

He pauses for a minute, smiling to himself as he answers his own question.

“Night sweetheart.”

Maybe sharing a bed with green eyes wasn’t so bad after all, but you won’t admit that. At least not to Sam.

—

Tags: @gxtitobxby @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey

[slutforsfender]

“If it wasn’t for you, I’d be so lost. I’m so glad you came into my life” - Sam Fender 

Sam Fender x Reader

You were sitting having your daily morning coffee, your vinyls playing in the background as you comprehended the day ahead of you. Today was Sam’s, your best friend, album launch party. 

You saw first hand how much he enjoyed making this album and how much it means to him.  You are so incredibly proud of him and this album definitely is your favourite. He based the whole album on growing up in North Shields as a teenager, he told little stories through each song which always melted your heart. Being there through his teenage years, you understand every single word in the little stories making the album just that little more special for you. 

You and Sam had grown up together, meeting when you were eleven starting secondary. He was getting punched every day by this other boy and one day you stepped in and kicked the other kid in the balls so he never hit Sam again. Since that day, you and Sam have been inseparable and you even tour around with Sam as his photographer while you work on your blog. 

You had no secrets from each other, well that’s what Sam thought. Secretly, you had been crushing on Sam since you were sixteen. That day you walked into the pub and it hit you like a brick as you saw Sam laughing with the local punters as he poured pints. 

You had moved on several times, you had dated other people thinking your feelings had gone but they were always in the background. After your most recent breakup, they had hit you like a ton of bricks. Luckily, you had a work trip in Paris for a month so you hadn’t seen or properly spoken to him in a while. 

However, today you were going to his party and facing him. So that explains why as you finish your coffee and the vinyl comes to an end, you stand there with a look of worry. 

Luckily, you had photos that needed editing and a blog post to write to distract you until you needed to get ready.

You spent the next few hours making it through various vinyls, photos and eventually uploading your blog post on time. 

You looked up at the clock to see you had three hours until you had to be at the venue, meaning you had to face reality and get ready to face your childhood best friend, the person you had fallen for massively. 

You curled your hair as Holly Humberstone played in the background. 

“So I’ll try not to say what I mean when I call you up” played through the speakers as your phone buzzed and Sam’s name appeared. You  answered after taking a deep breath.

“Aye there she is Paris girl” Sam says as his face appears on your phone screen.

“You know me Fender, always a Shields girl” you say with a smile and let a piece of your hair fall. 

“Always pet, anyway I just rang to let you know the cab will be at yours for half six so make sure you're ready and have had a cigarette by then” he says with a smirk.

“You didn’t have to book me a taxi, I can do that myself” you say, unamused. 

“Yeah yeah” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” you ask as you pick up another piece of hair.

“I’m going to now mam, see you soon pet” he says with a smirk at the use of his nickname.

“See you soon and I’m not your mother” you say, putting down the phone. 

I won’t lie after the call, the smile would not leave my face but it’s all pointless. To him I will always be his childhood best friend.

Eventually two hours later, you are completely ready. Your hair done, your makeup done, your outfit on and cigarette in hand as you wait for the taxi. 

As you get into the taxi, the nerves hit you hard and the realisation that even though you have avoided these feelings for ten years right now they you can’t avoid them anymore. 

You pull up to the venue and you set yourself into best friend mode. As soon as you walk into the venue, you are hit with voices, laughter and Seventeen Going Under playing in the background. 

You straight away spot Dean, Joe, Tom and Drew at the bar and decide to go over to them. 

“Aye here is the final member of the Shields crew” Dean says with a laugh. 

“Please do not remind me of how I am in any way associated with you lot” you say as you are greeted with hugs from them all. 

“You love us,” Joe says, passing me a glass of wine.

“Wine?” you ask with a weird look on your face.

“Figured we would start you with the easy stuff, don’t need any confessions tonight” Dean whispers, referring to the drunken late night confession while you were in Paris to Dean about your feelings.

You laugh and catch up with your friends, seeing how happy and proud they are about this album. 

“So where’s the man of the hour?” you ask as you finish your drink. 

“He’s been talking to some people from management over there since this started,” Drew informs you.

“He’ll be over when he notices you are here, I’m sure pet” Tom says, leading to a look of confusion from you. 

Just as you are about to change the topic, you feel two hands cover your eyes. 

“Guess who?” you hear the familiar accent say. 

“The famous rockstar holding this thing” you say with a smirk.

“Ha ha hilarious” Sam says, dropping his hands and greeting you with a hug. 

“Walk around with me? I’m going insane talking to these people on my own pet” Sam says, handing you a glass of wine.

“Fine but you owe me a cigarette outside afterwards” you say, pointing your finger at him.

“Aye deal” he says, putting his arm around your waist and guiding you to some people.

You spend the next hour walking around with Sam, talking to loads of people. You were currently talking to a couple that both work at Sam’s management.

“One second pet” Sam says as his manager calls him over.

“I must say, you and Sam make a lovely couple. He talks about you all the time but he never mentioned you two eventually got together” Emily, one of the two girls says, making you nearly spit out your drink. 

“Oh no we aren’t together, we are just friends” you reassure them. 

“Oh sorry, it’s just with the way his arm hasn’t left your side and the way he looks and talks to you, I just assumed you were” She apologises before being interrupted by the speakers.

“Okay if you could all gather around the stage please, it’s time for the speech” Owain, Sam’s manager says down the mic. 

Soon after, Sam comes onto the stage with a drink in one hand and the mic in the other. 

“Aye as many as you know, I’m not very good at speeches and having all the attention on me so I’ll make it quick. The whole album is based on growing up and adolescent memories in North Shields and one of those memories that will always stick with me is being given a chance by Owain in the Low Lights that day. So thank you Owain for always sticking by me and having faith in me to get this far, we made it after a lot of hard days work and dedication and it wouldn’t have been possible without you. Secondly to my band and longest mates, Dean, Joe, Tom and Drew, without you lot my adolescent years wouldn’t have been the same from stealing kinder maxis to making this album. It’s been hard but it would not have been filled with as much laughter without you boys. You are all like my brothers and I am incredibly thankful for all your hard work and dedication. We did it boys! Lastly, thank you to my best friend, Y/N, we grew up together and I am incredibly thankful that boy hit me because it led to meeting you, the girl that without even knowing me kicked a boy in the balls for me. You were there with the beers, music and chats after hard days making the album and just when I needed you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be so lost. I’m so glad you came into my life. What I’m trying to say is I am incredibly proud of this album and even more thankful for all the people behind it who supported me and helped make it. I love you all and let’s get fucking mortal for Seventeen Going Under” Sam says with a laugh, his words melting your heart. 

We all go back to our chats after raising a glass to the album and to Sam. 

“Fancy that cigarette now?” Sam asks after he finishes speaking to Owain. 

You nod and he leads you outside. He hands you a lighter and cigarette as you sit on a wall outside. You sit in silence for a minute, enjoying the peace and quiet.

“I’m proud of you Sammy boy. You made it, I remember bunking off sixth form to go have a cig and you would talk for ages about how much you wanted to leave Shields and do the whole music thing and here we are, you did it” you say, breaking the silence.

“Wouldn’t have done it without you pet. I meant every word I said in there and there’s three more I wish I could say and you would understand the meaning behind for once” he says.

“What are you trying to say Sam?” you ask.

“I’m trying to say I love you but not as a best friend as much more. I fucking love you and have done since we were sixteen in the Low Lights” 

“Sam, are you being serious or just mortal?” you ask, not believing him. 

“I’ve had four drinks so you do the maths” Sam says as you get down from the wall and stamp out the cigarette.

“I love you Samuel Thomas Fender, I have done for so long and I can’t ignore it anymore” you finally admit.

“Thank fuck for that” he says, stepping closer to you. 

“Kiss me” you whisper as his lips are inches from yours.

Your lips meet in a passionate but sweet kiss like all the unspoken words are sinking into each other. 

[holylulusworld]

Smirk of the devil

Title: Smirk of the devil

Summary: He’s the devil in disguise.

Square filled for @spnquotebingo​​​​​​: (“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years.” – SPN)

Word Count: 1,9k

Pairing: Clubowner!Dean x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby, Gadreel, unnamed girl

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  angst, language, smut, unprotected sex, a hint of fluff, mentions of cheating (implied), sadness, toxic relationship?, unrequited feelings, Dean hurt the reader more than once, hopeful ending but no happy ending

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

“Excuse me, miss,“ a young girl, barely twenty-one coos. She looks up at you with big doe eyes, batting her eyelashes. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester. He asked me to come here at nine.”

“No, you don’t,” anyone not knowing you would think you are trying to be rude to the girl, but this is so far from the truth. “Girls like you shouldn’t come to places like these.” you huff when the girl rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to meet up with Dean.”

“And you know this why?” she sasses, hands on her hips now. 

You can smell the strawberry chewing gum she tortured the whole time and can’t help but chuckle at her bratty attitude. Once upon a time, you were just like her.

Sweet, innocent, an intact heart beating in your chest.

“You’re not my mom. So, why do you think you can keep me away from Dean,” you’d like to slap her face at the ‘mom’ comment but bite your tongue. You never were a violent person. Maybe if you were, Dean would run around with one ball missing. “I bet you’re just jealous he wants me.”

What can you possibly tell the girl? That he will break her heart. That, once he has you in his clutches he will strip off your dignity, rip any pride left out of your chest and replace your former self with a drooling mess, begging him to do it all over again.

“Speak of the devil,” you whisper, watching Dean waltz into his club, the bunker, the place you first met. Those days seem a lifetime away. Back then you still were a cute and clueless girl, missing the way he tainted you with every touch and kiss. 

“I want to speak to him, now,” the girl pouts and you get the feeling she’s rather a girl scout wanting to sell cookies than her pussy to a man she won’t be able to handle. “NOW!”

“It’s your funeral, sweet cheeks,” you wave her off, walk past the girl to talk to Dean Winchester, the devil himself. Oh, how you wish you could tell him to go to hell, but you would only beg him to take you with him.

“Sweetheart,” he dips his head, shamelessly roams your body with darkened eyes, “you look ready to get eaten.” damn him, he smirks, and you get weak in the knees. “And you will—”

“Another of your fangirls,” you jerk your head in the girl’s direction, rolling your eyes. “Guess you are down to high school girls now, Winchester. Shame on you.”

“Jealous?” he cocks his head, watches you turn on your heels, ignoring your racing heart when he walks behind you, one hand on the small of your back. “So, how’s it going with your mysterious boyfriend lately?”

“Wonderful,” you grit out, already walking faster to brush Dean off. “I told you, no questions about my love life or I’ll quit once for all, Dean. Go, take care of your girl.”

It’s when he walks toward the girl that you allow yourself to admire his back, his broad shoulders, and, yes, his ass.

“Ogling my brother again?” Sam stands too close for comfort, but you don’t mind. “What’s the state of your on-and-off relationship? Who’s winning this round?”

“No one is going to win shit, Sammy. Dean wants to fuck every woman with a pulse, and I want a faithful man, period,” you turn your attention back toward the bartender who wanted to talk to you about the latest order.

“He’s hard to handle, I told you so,” Sam nudges your side. “Why don’t you lay claim on him and show any woman he’s yours.”

“Dean is not my man, never was,” you sigh, eyes filled with unshed tears once again. “When we met, he did anything to get me, and then, he dropped me like any other girl. I’m not what he wants, Sam. Dean lives for his club, Baby, and having sex with any woman he can get into his bed…”

“Bunny hole would be the better name for this shithole,” you grit out, downing your first drink of the night. “Give me another one, Gade. I wanna get drunk tonight.”

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t drink at work,” Dean sits on the barstool next to you, grinning when you grasp for the next drink. 

He easily snatches the drink out of your hands, downing it in one go, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Your boss could catch you red-handed and fire you or slap your ass. Whatever you prefer.”

“Go ahead and fire me, Winchester. This shithole will go down without the manager keeping it alive,” you quip. “Now let me have another drink. My shift is almost over.”

“Almost,” he whispers in your ear, fingertips sliding over your thigh to hike up your skirt. “How about we talk about this at my office in the back, Miss Y/L/N?” you place your hand on top of Dean’s to guide it to his thigh, hiding you shivered at his touch.

“Don’t hurt yourself, boss,” you lean closer to whisper the words. “I think you had enough fun with little miss sunshine not an hour ago. I hope you checked she was at age, Dean.”

“Jesus, I asked her to come around for a job, nothing else,” Dean grumbles, hand moving toward your thigh again. “I don’t play with girls, only with women.”

“Yeah, I remember how well you played with half of the female population in town,” snickering Dean slides off his barstool to stand behind you. He’s caging you with his body, places both hands on each side of the bar counter.

“You were one of them, and I remember you were so eager to get out of that cute dress you wore only for me, sweetheart,” he husks in your ear. “Come to my office, Miss Y/L/N, and let’s talk about your behavior lately.”

“If you insist, boss,” you hate you follow him all too eager.

While Dean waltzes toward his office, waving at people, you fight your way through the masses, unbeknownst Sam is following your every step with his eyes.

“She will fall for him all over again,” Ruby sighs. The brunette sips at her drink while sitting on Sam’s lap. “Can you not tell your brother to stop breaking my friend’s heart? She deserves better for fuck’s sake. Two years ago, she found a nice guy and tried to quit only to do the walk of shame the next morning.”

“I can’t help two fools in love to find their way. I tried, Baby. Don’t ask me to talk to my brother about love again. He’s stubborn. You know that Ruby.”

“I know, still, she deserves better than a quick fuck at his office only to end up alone and weeping on the floor for weeks after he had his way with her…”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean groans with every thrust. “I’ve missed this tight little cunt around me.” you hate yourself for letting Dean in once again while he takes you apart.

What can a girl do when he has you pressed against the wall the moment he closed the door behind you. His lips on yours, his hands on your ass to heave you up to hold you against the wall.

His thrusts are more demanding tonight, his lips tender against your throat and his hand, well his hands hold you a little tighter. “Dean, fuck—we shouldn’t.”

“A little too late for regrets,” the devil moans in your neck, moves a little slower to drag his thick length against your walls. “You’re so wet for me, Sugar.” you whimper at the nickname. 

It brings back memories of all the nights he called you like that, voice hoarse and his eyes only set on you.

“Go to hell—” you finally choke out, still, you hold tight onto his shoulders when he starts to fuck up into you at a madding pace. 

“I’ll just take you with me,” he grips your ass tighter, moves you up and down his length while his lips do the worst thing possible – they claim yours in a bruising kiss, take your breath away. 

Dean moans against your soft pillows, ignores a single tear that runs down your cheek or that your cunt flutters around him.

“You’re mine, my girl,” he demands, hips jerking uncontrollably now. “Never gonna let you go. Just hold tight, baby.”

You grasp for his shoulders, dig your nails deep into his skin when you can’t hold back the approaching high anymore. A wave of pleasure washes over you and for a moment everything is like it should be—until it isn’t. 

His warmth fills you and you remember the way he ended things, right after he fucked you against the wall at his place.

“What if you let me fall?” there is so much fear and pain hidden behind those few words Dean stops moving for a moment. He just looks at you pinned to the wall, bare and vulnerable right in front of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Why do you always keep coming back to me?” he nips at your lips, hands wrapping around your back. “Why, baby?”

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself the same question for two years,” you give Dean a sad smile, eyes filled with tears again. “Maybe I’m a masochist and like to get hurt. I don’t know why I let you in over and over again only to get broken.”

“I hate to break it for you, but we have this thing going on for almost six years,” Dean laughs when you punch his shoulder. “Maybe a little longer.”

“I know, dumbass,” you shake your head. “Two years ago, I found a new job and tried to leave town, but then you dragged me back into your life, and since then…”

“You try to escape me and my charming personality…”

“Why are you still here?” looking over your shoulder you wonder why Dean didn’t leave your place like he always does after he got what he wanted. “Isn’t one of your other girls waiting for you?”

“I told you that the girl was there for a job, not to suck my dick,” he kicks his shoes off and drops his shirt to the ground before he unzips his pants. “I want to stay the night.”

“Why?” watching Dean strip his socks off you frown. “Dean, you don’t need to pretend shit, okay. We both know I was just convenient again.” you turn around, not wanting to face the devil again. If you do, he’ll drag you down to hell again.

“Y/N, baby,” he crawls under the covers to press his face into your shoulder, “you’re not convenient to me. I swear, I asked the girl to come to the club for a job. She asked around at my mom’s place and I offered she can take over a few shifts. As a waitress, not for me to… you know…”

“How shall I know?” you hate that his warmth lulls you into safety. And you hate his arms wrap around your waistline even more. “All you do is to bang random chicks at your office. Just like you did with me not an hour ago.”

“You’re not a random chick, Y/N,” oddly Dean clings to you tonight. He burrows his face in your neck, not letting go of you until he feels your breathing even out. “Maybe you are the only girl I ever loved. I was just too afraid to keep you in my life.”

You can’t react to his confession as you are fast asleep. Dean doesn’t care. He needed to get it off his chest. 

“No matter what, you’ll always be mine, sweetheart. Come hell or high water,” he whispers. 

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll give him another chance to prove he’s not the devil, only a lonely man who messed things up years ago.

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog. 

[wormstacheangel]

have some latinenatural for day 1 of @spnprideweek dean trying to come out to himself

Dean didn’t like going down this neighborhood. It never made him any money, plus the block is a dead end, so he always ends up circling back around with his heavy cart. His Tio always yelled at him for it, wasting precious time in a block where nobody paid him any attention because these Americanos aren’t used to people walking around selling comida.

Pero Dean always had one customer that always came running out whenever Dean came around, and he was worth the extra minutes he had to petal in the hot sun.

“Dean!”

Dean hears his name, expecting it but still feeling relief from hearing it. He looks ahead, his fingers stopped ringing the bells that have become background noise to him by now, and sees his favorite customer running out of the big white house Dean can only ever dream of renting. He wouldn’t ever dream of owning; he can’t have dreams so impossible.

Dean petals a little bit faster until he breaks in front of the pretty face he sees at least three times a week.

“Cas.” Dean practically beams at him even though he was trying to stay cool. Smooth. “Mi Angelito.” Dean winks, and he doesn’t miss Cas’s eyes widened and ears blushing at the nickname. “How you been?”

[continue reading under the cut or read on ao3]

Cas was dressed in his usual white button-up and slacks but they looked a lot more ruffled up than usual. His hair looked unkempt as it curled at the ends—Dean wasn’t complaining he loved it—and his typical neat shirt was wrinkled with sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He looked the guy up and down before his eyebrows creased together.

“You okay, Cas?”

“Yeah.” Cas sighed, shoulders slumping as he reached to run his hand through his hair—that probably explains the bed head—before smiling back at Dean with a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you say so.” Dean jumps off the bike and walks over to his cart. “The usual?”

“Please.”

Dean nods once before getting to work on a raspado de vainilla for Cas. He works in silence for a minute, just the sound of the ice scraping between them before Dean looks back at Cas.

“You know, si quieres, you can talk to me.” Dean looks up to see Cas was already watching him. “I know I’m a nobody, but I hear nobodies are great to vent to.”

“You aren’t a nobody, Dean.” Cas’s expression softens at the words. His eyes brighten as he looks at Dean, almost as if he can see into his soul. Then, just as Dean was about to drown in those baby blues, Cas looked away. His fingers started to twitch as he looked sheepishly at the ground. “Plus, my problems are small. I can deal with them by myself.”

Dean looks away, packing the ice into the cup before reaching to pour the vainilla as he talks. “Yeah, I know you can, pero; I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to.”

Cas is nothing but a customer that Dean has been crushing on—it was a small, slow, and scary realization. The only reason they’re on a first-name basis now is because Cas once left his name tag on, and Dean asked what it meant.

Dean handed Cas his raspado across the cart, Dean needed to keep his distance, but he knew when Cas reached for it, their fingers would touch; he looked forward to the simple touch each time.

They did, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat before he works on chicharrones, lots of limon, and a little bit of chile.

“But I get it, you know, if you don’t want to talk to me.” Dean looks up to see Cas still staring at him but with eyes filling with tears. “Holy shit.” Dean put the bag down and walked around to stand by Cas’s side. He grabbed a napkin from his cart and handed it to Cas to wipe his eyes. “Dude. Dude, please no llores. Don’t cry. People are gonna think I did something to you, and I’ll lose customers.” Dean tries to joke, but Cas doesn’t crack a smile. Instead, he rolls his eyes.

“Dean, nobody but me ever comes out here.”

Dean shrugs. “Potential customers then.” Dean grabs another napkin and reaches to wipe the tears that were already falling. “Estas bien, Angelito. Talk to me.”

“I-I shouldn’t.” Cas accepts Dean’s kindness for a second longer before gently moving Dean’s hand away. “You’re working. Let me just pay you so you can stop wasting your time here.”

Dean nods, stepping away from Cas so as not to seem pushy. As much as he loved being so close to Cas’s face, he didn’t want to seem creepy about it. This neighborhood has eyes everywhere, and Dean couldn’t really risk having his cart, his livelihood, be taken away just cause he has a small crush on the white boy.

So Cas gives him the exact change to the quarter and smiles sadly before he waves goodbye. Dean waves back as he gets on his bike to pedal out of this neighborhood and into a more comfortable one. He didn't ring the bell until he was out of there.

Cas doesn’t come out to see him the next day or the day after that, and now he has to wait until next week to see him. If Cas still wanted to see him.

“I don’t know why you still go over there,” Sam says as he helps Dean unpack the car.

Dean’s side gigs included selling his homemade food Friday through Sunday—he can almost call himself a caterer—while on Thursday, he preps during the day and works as a janitor in a big law office at night. Today was Thursday, so Dean had to wake up early to go to the big marketplace downtown. They sold the chicharrones de harina in bulk for cheap, and they had all the ingredients he’ll need to make the syrups for the raspados himself.

Sam rarely comes with Dean to get all these things since he was always busy with school, but today he came along on the day that Dean ran out of maiz azul. It just meant more trabajo para los dos.

“Or why you still sell raspados when you make more money on the weekend with your food.” Sam continued as they struggled to carry the bag of maiz to the kitchen. They both let out a heavy breath when they finally dropped the bag in the kitchen. Dean’s going to spend the next hour cleaning and soaking the damn corn after this. That doesn’t even include cooking it and finally making the damn masa.

“El trabajo es duro but I like it.” Dean pats Sam’s shoulder before they go back to the car to get the rest of the things. “I like going down neighborhoods and saying hi to people.”

“I get that pero why do you have to go to their side of town?”

Dean doesn’t know how to answer that.

He hasn’t told anyone about Cas. About how one day he was bored and wandered over to that neighborhood only to find Cas laying on his front lawn with a book covering his face. Dean, for some reason, couldn’t help but to ring the bells louder, startling Cas. Dean laughed for half a second before a book went flying to his face, knocking him off his bike. Cas learned too many cuss words in Spanish that day, but the big bruise was worth it.

Still, Dean didn’t want to tell anyone about Cas. Afraid to even speak of him because that would mean that his crush was real. That he had actual feelings, romantic ones, for another guy.

He knows que su Tío no lo va sacar de la casa pero todavía Dean tenía miedo. He was scared to admit this part of himself was real when it felt like a sin in his culture. ¡Ser gay es una cosa pero bisexual! ¡Ni madres! That doesn’t exist. Not where he is from.

So he’ll keep it to himself. Keep Cas as his secret fantasy and nothing more.

“The houses are nice to look at. One day, Sammy!” Sam was already groaning at Dean’s words that sounded more like an old man’s recurring ‘when I was your age’ stories. “One day, I’ll get us a house like that! One where we can each have our own room. And bathroom.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. Let’s just finish this so I can go back to my homework.”

“¡Estas pendejo! After this, you’re gonna help me clean the bathroom and throw away the trash before Tio comes home.”

“But Dean,”

“¡Pero nada! ¡Piensas que soy pendejo como tu, pinche mamón! Don’t think I don’t know you spend that time babeando por tu novia.”

“Dean!” Sam quickly passes him in a huff of embarrassment while Dean laughed, following Sam back to the car to get more groceries.

When Monday rolls around, Dean forces himself to come down Cas’s street again. The bells rang softly at first, only getting louder as he came closer to the house. He didn’t see a car in sight, so he thinks maybe Cas isn’t home.

He was already pedaling away when he heard someone call out to him. He hits the breaks half haphazardly, and the gallons shake on his cart, threatening to fall out. He was about to turn around, but then he realizes he hears footsteps running closer, and then he hears heavy breathing by his ear.

“Fuck.” Cas hands rest on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “Are you-are you trying to run away from me?” Cas looks up with a teasing smile, it was beautiful, and Dean didn’t realize how much he missed him until now. “I am your only customer around here, so that’s a pretty bad business decision if you ask me.”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” Dean could have joked around with him, but instead, his mouth decided to kick the conversation off with some honesty. Dean looked down at the bike handles as he talked. “Since you didn’t come out last week, I just figured-”

“Oh.” Cas stood up straight as he ran a hand through his overgrown hair; his clothes looked neat again, though. “I didn’t mean to make you think-”

Dean holds his hand out to stop Cas from talking, feeling embarrassed with every word. “Para. You don’t have to explain. No me debes-you don’t owe me anything.”

“I know that, but I want to. Talk, I mean. If that’s okay with you.” Cas looks at Dean with soft, warm eyes, a drastic difference from the red-rimmed eyes from the last time they saw each other. “After you’re done with work, of course.”

“I um-I usually head home around six. I can um,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, not meeting Cas’s eyes as he carefully says. “I can come by after if you want.”

“I would like that.”

Dean's head shoots up to stare back at Cas, who looked shy, pero siempre más guapo que la última vez que Dean lo miró.

At that moment, Dean wanted to lean in and kiss him more than he has wanted to kiss anyone in his 26 years of life, but he won’t. He still wasn’t sure if this was Cas asking him out as a friend or as something more. He was scared, but he knew his heart raced in excitement more than anything.

Dean finally broke away from the staring contest as he cleared his throat to get off his bike. “Todavia quieres-Do you still want your raspado?”

“Oh. Sure!”

It was silent while Dean made raspado, but he couldn’t wait for their fingers to graze again when he handed the cup over to Cas.

“Just the raspado today.” Dean still loved when Cas said it, trying not to laugh even though he loved Cas’s embarrassed blushing. Cas reaches into his pocket, but Dean reaches to touch his shoulder to stop him.

“On the house.” Dean holds it out and just like before their fingers touch, burning him.

“No, Dean, I couldn’t.”

Dean shakes his head to stop him from arguing any further. He jumped back on his bike and looked back at Cas as he said, “You can get me something later. Is seven okay?”

“Seven is…perfecto.” Cas flinched at his Spanish, but Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Pues, te miro mas tarde, Angelito.” Dean reached to pat Cas’s cheek before he started pedaling away.

“Dean! I don’t know what that means!” Cas calls out to him.

Dean doesn’t turn around to respond, mostly to hide the stupid shit-eating grin he had on his face. “I said I’ll see you later!” But he does wave goodbye, ringing the bell as he goes.

Dean really liked him, and it brought fear into his heart pero al mismo tiempo; he hasn’t been this excited to just be around someone in such a long time. So maybe this is his time to accept that maybe, for sure, he is crushing hard on a guy.

Dean sighs as he stops on the sidewalk to hang his head and quietly whispers, “For fucks sakes, soy un pinche gay.”

Well, at least he can admit to himself—sort of.

[adhdeancas]

12x01 Rewrite with Trans Dean

trigger warnings for minor mention of dysphoria. Also minor/negligent transphobia. 

“Mom?” His heart is stopped in his chest, staring at the face he’s kept in his head for all of his life, the face he’s thought of as the only real home he’s ever had. She looks the same, exactly the same. “I… uh, are you really… real?” 

He reaches out without thinking, needing to just make sure that Amara didn’t bring back a fantasy or a ghost or a sick joke. She proves it without him touching her, flipping him in a neat trick he recognizes from his own training and ending up with her foot on his neck, pressing him into the dirt. “Where am I? Who the hell are you?”

She looks so scared. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the bottom of her foot. He needs to make her trust him, preferably before she does something rash like snap his neck. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your son. I’m… Sam’s brother”

The pressure lets up on Dean’s neck even though Mary’s shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t have two boys. They’re- they’re just kids.”

Dean winces, breathing heavily. This is gonna be a motherfucker for her to understand. Still, Mary lets him up, and he stands and rubs his neck, trying desperately to recall every bit of information he’s stored away about his mom. “Mom. Listen to me. Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

Mary flinches, the facts hitting straight-on. “How do you know all that?” 

“Dad told me.” Dean tells her. He doesn’t tell her that he had to gather the story from slurred words, drunken tears in between stories about the perfect wife. That he recited them in his head like a prayer so he wouldn’t forget her. “March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater - Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh,” God, what was the name of that stupid place? “Mulroney’s, and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song,” A memory of a smiling young alive Mary comes to mind, and he pushes it away because it hurts. She’s right there. “So when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that -” You fell in love with- “that you met -”

“John Winchester.”

“August 19, 1975, you were married… in Reno. Your idea.”Dean had always thought that was hilarious. He looks her in the eyes again, pleading with her to not dispute the next part. “A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.”

“No, no. My oldest was a girl, Deanna.” Mary looks Dean up and down, taking in his short hair, wide shoulders, and flat chest. He crosses his arms over that now, uncomfortable, hoping she isn’t looking at his long eyelashes or his delicate cheekbones or his hips. All the places he’s insecure about. 

“Yeah, um… that’s me.” He looks up at her, his jaw clenching, waiting for the ball to drop. “I shortened the name a little, and the- uh- hair.” He tries for the old charming smile as he runs a hand through the spiky hair he hasn’t let grow out in 20 years. It doesn’t quite get there, settling at a more delicate need for approval. Mary doesn’t give it to him. “Do you believe me?”

She bypasses the question, turning her eyes away from him to look at the car behind him. Something changes in her eyes. “I burned.” She says quietly, like she’s remembering the heat. Dean swallows. He remembers the heat too. “How long have I been gone?”

“33 years.” His voice cracks. 

Mary looks back to him, and she moves forward, putting two gentle fingers to his cheek, to the freckles sprayed across soft skin. He’s had them forever, even when he was little. “Dee?” She calls him by his old nickname; Dean’s doubly thankful that he doesn’t use his deadname. 

“Hi, mom.” There are tears in his eyes.

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

“How did he die?”

Dean bows his head. He’s really not selling himself too good here, is he? First the trans thing, now- “He gave himself up for me.” He’ll be surprised if Mary wants anything to do with him. Surprisingly, she chuckles and sniffles. 

“That does sound like John.” He looks over, and she’s smiling. His brow furrows. Killing himself to save Dean’s ass does sound like John, but not in a way that makes him want to smile. “And he was a hunter? And he raised-” She stutters now, looking at him again and looking away just as quickly. “You and Sam to be-”

“Yeah, he did.” A cold weight is settling in Dean’s stomach, and he tries and fails to not let it seep into his words.

“And you said we’ve met before, when you traveled through time,”

Dean nods. It had been horrible and amazing to see Mary and have her see him, just as some guy. A guy, at all. “Twice. Your memory got wiped, so…” So you don’t remember me telling you I was your kid, and you not believing me. I do.

“And you’re… my daughter-”

Dean coughs. He hasn’t been called a daughter in a long-ass time. “No, I’m- I mean. I was. I know it’s a lot. And I’ll explain everything. I will. But right now, let’s get out of here. Let’s get you home. Come on, Mom.”

She doesn’t correct him, which means she must believe, at least a little bit, that she is his mom. 

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

“You live here?” She looks around the cavernous space and he smiles, looking around too. It really is awesome. 

“Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker.”

“Men of Letters?” She scoffs. Dean grins a bit and looks at her. He thinks he likes her. “They’re a myth. An old hunter’s story.”

He tilts his head. He’s just gonna keep blowing her mind today, apparently. “Not so much. New duds look good.” He gestures to her clothes. He’d lent her some extra clothes he’d had in the trunk, and he tries not to fixate on how they weren’t that big on her. He’s not much taller than her, and he knows part of that even is the heeled boots he’s wearing. 

“Well, thanks. It’s better than walking around in that nightgown the rest-” Dean’s nodding, about to say something extremely awkward like ‘Yeah, nightgowns are a bitch,’ when he finally looks at what she’s staring at, spattered on the floor of the bunker. “That’s blood.”

 “Yeah.” Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he goes into autopilot before he can think about freaking out. He takes his gun out from his pants and cocks it, clearing the immediate area. A blurred sigil on the wall puts another bolt of fear through his chest. “Sammy? Cas?” He winces at how high his voice goes.

He takes the Map Table’s gun out from its hiding place and hands it to Mary. She was a hunter too, and he’s not about to leave her unarmed to clear the place. “Take this. Stay here.” Dean takes off immediately. It isn’t until he’s moving on to check the kitchen that he hears the voice. Mary’s clear as a bell, saying, 

“Hands, now,”

Dean’s in the room before he can think about it. His heart practically comes undone when he sees that dumb familiar trench coat. He puts his body between Cas and his mom’s gun immediately, hoping she will trust him enough not to shoot through him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend, all right?” He meets Cas’s eyes and sees the utter relief in his eyes, and a surge of warmth fills his chest. “Hey, Cas.”

It’s a lackluster greeting when they both thought they’d never see each other again, and Cas shows it when he steps forward quickly and pulls Dean into a tight hug. “Dean!”

Dean grins and pats his back. “Hey, okay. All right,” He comforts him quietly. 

“Dean, you’re alive?” Cas pulls away and looks him over, like he’s afraid Dean might disappear. Dean nods, understanding; he had done the same thing to Mary, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where is Sam?”

“He’s not here.” Obviously. Dean could smack him, but his face wants to break into a fond smile instead. He represses both urges.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean says over Cas. They look at each other and then back at Mary. 

“Come again?”

“An angel, with a capital A,” Dean clarifies. He feels, ridiculously, a little bit like he’s showing off. Showing Cas off. “You know, wings, harp.”

“No, I don’t have a harp.”

Dean laughs. “This is Castiel. Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.”

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

“It’s been kinda weird, here. You know, with mom being back?” And learning that her baby girl is now a full grown man? “It’s like we don’t know how to act around each other, so we just kinda make this small talk, and act like it’s normal, but it’s- it’s so not normal.” Dean can hear the pleading in his voice. 

“What has she said to you?” Cas asks quickly. Dean bites his lip to hide the smile he’s trying to get from hearing Cas get all angry and protective on his behalf. He’s reminded of the time Cas looked him directly in the face and said, ‘Dean Winchester, if anyone is ever transphobic to you, I will smite them immediately and without any remorse.’ And before Dean could make a quip about internalized transphobia, Cas added, ‘Do not make me do that to you.’

“Well, nothing. That’s- that’s the whole point.” It’s the kind of thing most people usually wanna go over, what the fuck gender their kid is? He’s pretty sure no news does not mean good news in this context.

“Okay, what have you said to her?”

“Well, nothing. I’m- I don’t know what to say to her, y’know? It’s like it’s all too much, and I don’t wanna overwhelm her.” 

“Dean, your identity is not ‘too much.’” Cas says immediately. Dean sighs. That wasn’t what he meant, even though he has said something similar before. Something when he was lonely and sad and feeling like explaining his dick to a one night stand was too complicated for him to do to even assuage it that way.

“No- I know. It’s not that. It’s… everything.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to sigh. “Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated, as you humans tend to do. I’ll call you.” He hangs up. 

Dean lets the phone fall with his arm limp to his side. “Yeah. Great. That’s helpful.” He says to the empty air. “That’s helpful.” Asshole.

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

They’re in the car, and Dean is driving, and there is too much going on. He’s not sure whether he’s happy that Cas is in the backseat for this conversation or not. “So you’re… my Deanna.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He looks at them and ignores the voice in his head that says they are petite. Womanly. “Uh, yeah. I was born Deanna Jane Winchester.” He clears his throat and meets Cas’s eyes in the rearview. He gives him a little nod, and Dean continues. “I’m… It’s called trans.”

Dean risks a look over at Mary, and she’s playing with her ring. “So you… wanted to be a boy.” 

Dean clears his throat again. He’s pretty sure he does it every time before he talks, and he’s also pretty sure his voice gets lower every time he talks, too. He swears it’s an automatic reflex. 

“Dean’s soul is- that of a human man.” Cas interrupts, saying it like that clarifies things. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up a little bit. Cas did tell him that he could see his soul, and also told him that it was, and he quotes ‘A color more similar to that of a men than women.’ Which, yeah, that tracks. He guesses Cas leaves off the ‘more similar’ part to make things simpler for Mary.

“And so you…” Mary trails off, a finger pointing toward his chest aborting its mission when she realizes it might be rude. 

Dean raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Cut my tits off? Yeah.” He takes a hand off the wheel to raise his shirt, proudly showing off his top surgery scars. Mary trails a hand along them, feeling the raised skin. “After Sammy went to college. It was a bitch of a few weeks, but it was worth it.”

Mary takes her hand away and nods, brows furrowed like she’s trying to wrap her head around it. Dean grins. The grin freezes awkwardly, the edges tilting down, when Mary opens her mouth again. “So you have a-”

Cas coughs loudly in the back seat. Dean meets his wide eyes with a similar expression, and Mary cuts off the question, catching onto the fact she said something wrong. “Don’t think we really need to go there, do we, mom?”

That was a question for him and whatever lucky son of a bitch (gender neutral) ended up in his bed at the end of the night. “Right.” Mary says quickly. She turns her whole body then, asking, “Is that why you like men?”

Dean only swerves a little, he swears. The car coming the opposite direction doesn’t seem to agree, holding its horn long and hard. Luckily, it gives him a moment to stutter less obviously. 

“Sorry, I just meant- since you two are-” Mary gestures between Cas and Dean, and Dean blinks his eyes solidly, trying to convince himself this is really happening.

“No! I mean, we-” Dean doesn’t have the balls (hehe) to look at Cas in the back seat, but he can see the trench coat shifting out of his peripheral. “I’m not-”

“Was John okay with this?”

Dean laughs. It comes out bitter and dark. “Dad didn’t much give a fuck what I did with my body. He’d given up on grandkids about the time he saw how decent I was at hunting, so my long hair wasn’t a personal loss.” He knew I wasn’t gonna live long enough to give him grandkids, not without some self-sacrifice on John’s part.

Mary looks a little shocked at his outburst, and Dean almost feels bad for being so blunt and crass. But then he remembers growing up with John as his male role model, and he tightens his jaw. No, the bluntness and crassness was accurate. “Oh.”

“... Yeah.” Dean bites his lip and risks another glance at his mom. 

“So, you’re okay with this?” He waves a hand at himself. Asking if she was okay with him was just too pathetic, even for him. She looks at him uncertainly, a frown he recognizes as his own on her face.

“I don’t think I’m okay with any of this, Dean. But… I guess I’ll adjust.”

[americancowgirl19]

Leave a Message

Summary: No matter how many times they call, all they get is the answering machine.

Warnings: angst, cursing, fluff, dates might not be correct (deal with it)

Reader: Sister Winchester Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!reader, John Winchester x Daughter!reader, slight Bobby Singer x Daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,481

A/n: Y/n/n = Your nickname Y/d/n = Your daughters name

Masterlist

December 19th, 1996 - 9:17 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, Y/n/n, it’s Dean. Where are you? Dad won’t tell Sammy and I anything. You’ve been gone for two days. Please, just tell me you’re safe. Call me back,”

March 5th, 1997 - 1:32 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“It’s Sam... You’ve been gone a long time... Dad won’t talk about you anymore, he gets mad when we bring you up. He won’t let us look for you but don’t worry, Dean still does and I help him where I can. I don’t know where you are but we’ll find you. We’ll bring you back. Love you,”

October 31st, 1997 - 8:49 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“...It’s Halloween... Remember when you would make Sammy dress up in some stupid costume and take him out trick or treating for a little bit? Dad would always get mad but you had this way of just lightening him up. I swear we would gain so much weight eating Sammy’s candy when he went to bed *small chuckle*… You’ve been gone for almost a year and I’m no closer to finding you than when I started... I’m not gonna give up though. I know you’re out there even if Dad won’t say anything. I just hope that wherever you are... you’re safe. Please, call back,”

December 25th, 1997 - 10:23 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas, Y/n. I miss you... a lot. Dean says you’ll come back but I don’t know if I believe him anymore. We should have found you by now right? Dad should be helping us *aggravated sigh*… He’s been drinking a lot lately... I just want you to come back. Nothing’s been the same since you left. I don’t know where you are but I hope Dean finds you. We need you here. We Love you,”

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas, Y/n/n... Sammy demanded that I call you and tell you that... He thinks you’ll come back if we talk to you or something like that... I don’t know... I’m starting to think you’re not actually missing... I think you and dad fought and you left us. I don’t think you want to be found... *sigh*… I thought you were happy here, with us. I don’t know what dad said to make you leave but please just... come back... Sammy needs you. I... *heavy sigh*… Come back,”

February 10th, 1998 - 2:30 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, Y/n. Nothing has really changed in the last couple of months. Dad’s wanting to take me on more hunts but Dean’s holding him off. I know I’m ready to take on more of the big stuff. I just have to prove to Dean that I’m ready, that I can handle myself. You should come back and help me convince Dean I’m not a little kid anymore...You should come back... Love you”

June 1st, 1998 - 11:41 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Sammy got hurt today... We were hunting and... I don’t even know what happened. One second he was behind me and then we were separated and then he was hurt. Dad got pissed. Dad told me Sammy wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you were looking after him... I know he’s right... You were always better at looking after him than I was... Hell, you’re better at looking after me than I am... I don’t know how much longer we can keep going on without you. We’re falling apart here. Dad’s either hunting or emptying a liquor store. I’m trying to look after him and Sammy but... I can’t do this alone. I don’t know why you left or if you’re even- fuck... if you’re even getting these messages...”

October 31st, 1998 - 9:02 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Happy Halloween... Dean said I shouldn’t call... That you wouldn’t answer. That you’re probably not even listening to the messages... That might be true but still... You’re my sister and I miss you.”

December 25th, 1998 - 12:13 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Merry Christmas from Dean and I...”

December 17th, 1999 - 4:55 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“It’s been three years, Y/n... God, it’s been three years... I miss you like hell...Damn, I just... I just miss you”

December 17th, 2000 - 7:00 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, it’s Dean. Just checking in... Everything’s fine on our end. Dad and Sammy are both doing good. It’s been four years and... I guess we’re just now figuring out how to work without you *small laugh, sniffle*… Sammy’s doing good in school. I can finally drink *laugh* legally that is. I know you’re getting these messages cause Sammy and I have left a shit ton and the box isn’t full yet. That means that you’re deleting them. I guess on the bright side that means you’re alive... I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed... I guess a little bit of both... I miss you. Sammy misses you. Hell, even dad misses you even if he doesn’t say anything. I hope you’re listening to these and not just deleting them... I guess it makes me feel better to think you actually listen... Guess it means a small part of you still cares enough to at least listen to me ramble on... *sigh*… I want you to know... You can come back. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been gone, you can still come back. I want you to come back. Hell, I’d be happy for a damn phone call or even a fucking text! Something!... Just give me something...”

December 17th, 2001 - 6:26 am

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hey, it’s Dean. *Large sigh* I’m just... Just checking in... God, I wish you were here... More than anything... God, I need you. Text me where you are and I promise I will drop everything to come pick you up. Hell, I won’t even ask a damn question. Sammy and Dad have been going at it... It seems like it never ends. I can feel him pulling away. I know Sammy wants to leave and if Dad doesn’t lay off we’re gonna lose him just like... Just like we lost you... I can’t lose him.. I lost... I-I lost you an-and now *throat clearing*… If you come back then you can fix everything like you always could. You know, like, you could just... you can fix us... You can calm Sam down and make him stay... You can get dad to relax... I can’t keep this family together, they’re slipping through my fingers. Please, come back...”

July 8th, 2002 - 4:09 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“...Sammy’s gone... *slow sigh*… *sniffle*… I-... *quiet sob*…”

September 28th, 2006 - 6:37 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Hello, this is Stacey with the - hospital. I’m calling for a Y/n Winchester. I have news about the passing of a John Winchester...”

May 1st, 2008 - 11:59 pm

“Hey, this is Y/n. Leave a message,”

“Uh... Hey, it’s uh... It’s Sammy - err - Sam. *Throat clearing* It’s been a long time since I called... Dean didn’t want me calling and I didn’t think I would have too but I can’t put this off anymore... Dean made a deal with a demon... His contract is up in a couple of weeks. I’m doing everything I can to get him out but... *shaky sigh*… I don’t know if... It would be nice if... If we could just see you. Leave the past behind us, ya know?... I doubt you’ll respond but I just... I had to let you know...”

Sam sigh’s hanging up the phone. It fidgets with the device in his hand, hunched over his knees. He could feel his heart dropping in disappointment. Even though he knew you wouldn’t answer there was still a small part that just... hoped.

He turns his head when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye. Dean leans against the doorway with his arms crossed. Sam looks into his eyes.

Neither of them have to say anything. They just understand.

It killed Dean that no matter what they said to you over the phone, you never called back. You never sent a text. You sure as hell never showed up. You simply dropped off the face of the Earth 10 years ago. No matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t find a trace of you.

You were always the best. You were the best hunter, being the eldest of the three. You were the best ‘parent’, being the unofficial mother figure. You somehow managed being both mother and sister. It’s what made your disappearance so hard. The boys weren’t just losing a sister.

Despite the fact that they couldn’t track you, you could track them. In fact, you had been doing your best to keep your eye on them. You’re father had demanded that you leave, never come back, and never contact them. You tried your best but you loved your brothers, you had to make sure they were ok.

However, they’re Winchesters. Keeping tabs on them wasn’t always easy. There would be months where they would be the ones that fell off the face of the Earth before suddenly reappearing somewhere. 

You listened to every single voice mail they left. You would cry your eyes out every time. You couldn’t put into words the pain you felt when you heard their voices begging you to come back. You always looked forward to their calls but it never failed to send you into an anxious depressive mess for weeks, sometimes longer, afterward.

It didn’t matter though, you had to keep moving. You had to keep living. It’s not just you who you have to worry about. 

In a couple of months your daughter would be turning 10. Y/d/n Winchester. The father disappeared a couple hours after conception. You had tried to track him down but it wasn’t your main priority. 

Telling your father was extremely hard but him forcing you to leave was the hardest. He wouldn’t let you say goodbye to your brothers. He just told you to pack your bag and get in the Impala while the boys were asleep. He bought you a bus ticket to the furthest place that the bus went too and told you to stay away from the life.

He knew if you talked to your brothers you would be pulled back in. If you were pulled back in, your daughter would be caught in the supernatural mess. John knew a war would be coming and a little baby shouldn’t be in the middle.

As much as you love your brothers, your priority is your daughter. You loved her from the moment you found out she was in your stomach. You had to protect her, no matter what. It didn’t matter what happened to you, your daughter was going to live a happy life.

You always dreamed of a day where you could introduce your daughter to her grandpa and uncles. You dreamed of different scenarios. You prayed they would come true.

When you learned of your father’s death you wanted to cave that instant. You wanted to pack your things, pick your daughter up from school, and go to Bobby’s. You knew the boys would be there. They could cover their tracks but sometimes they were just down right predictable. 

But then you remembered how he died. The nurses had explained the weird things going on and you got the security footage. You watched Dean teeter between the living and the dead before miraculously recovering. Not long later, your father dies. You were able to put two and two together.

Watching the footage would be the first time you saw Sam and Dean since you were a teenager. You didn’t think it would be possible for them to be so tall. The longing for your brothers amplified but they were in deep shit with demons. That isn’t the life you could bring to your doorstep. That isn’t the danger you could bring to your daughter.

However, when you got Sam’s call your world stopped. Hearing that Dean would be dead in a few weeks, dragged to hell by those damn hounds, made you fall to your knees. Hearing about your father’s death, hell seeing it on camera, was one thing. But to lose your brother is something you never wanted to go through.

Sure, you haven’t talked to him but you knew he was alive. You knew he was still kicking ass and taking names. But now you knew he was going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing you could to about it.

But you could do one thing.

“Where are we mom?” Your daughter asks in the back seat as you pull up to a motel. You don’t answer her. Your eyes are glued on the sleek, black Impala. Suddenly you’re 19 again being dropped off at the bus station by your dad who’s telling you to never come back again. “Mom?” You shake the thoughts out of your head. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” You whisper.

You were not fine. Your anxiety is so high that someone would need an oxygen take to climb to the top. Your nerves are shaking your hands. You couldn’t sit still. You felt as if you were on the verge of a panic attack. You managed to keep yourself together not wanting to have such an attack in front of your daughter.

“Sam,” You whisper. You’re youngest brother walks to the Impala, not sparing your car a glance. You watch him open the truck and rummage through it.

“That’s Uncle Sam?” Your daughter asks. Your daughter knew almost everything about your family. She had an idea about the supernatural but not a lot.

“Yeah,” You whisper.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” 

“Too long,” You respond. Sam closes the trunk and begins to walk away. “Stay here,” You say sternly. “I’ll come back for you,”

“Ok,” Your daughter barely answers before you’re out the car following your brother. You were so nervous about the fact that you were about to approach your brother for the first time in a decade that you had forgot one thing. He’s a Winchester.

Sam rounded the corner and you quickly followed. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab you and slam you against the wall with his forearm digging into your throat.

“Who are you?” He snapped.

“Damn, Sammy,” You choked. Sam frowns his eyebrows and you give him the best Winchester smirk you could muster. “What? Don’t recognize your own sister?” You joke nervously. Sam frowns his eyebrows even more as he takes in your features. “You were the one who called me...” Sam eases back a bit but isn’t completely sure if he trusts you. “Unless you plan on cutting me with some silver or splashing me with some holy water, mind stepping back?” You grab your brothers arm and pull it to the side allowing you to slip away from the wall.

“Y/n?” Sam whispers.

“The one and only,” You wink at him.

“You’re actually here?” Sam asks. You nod.

“I heard that Dean’s in a tough spot,” Sam ignores your comment. “Thought I’d come see you assholes,” The edge of Sam’s lip raises a bit.

“Mom?” Your head snaps to your daughter. Sam slowly follows your gaze.

“I told you to stay in the car,” You growled. 

“I wanted to meet Uncle Sam,” She says walking up cautiously. You sighed and motioned for her to come.

“Uncle Sam?” Sam whispers frowning his eyebrows.

“Sammy, this is Y/d/n,” You introduce glancing at your brother. “My ten year old daughter,” Sam meets your gaze and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Ten?” 

You slowly nod your head.

“Well, technically not yet but I will be,” She says running a hand through her hair. “It’s nice to meet you,” Y/d/n says holding out her hand. Sam looks down at her and instantly begins to notice the resemblance. He slowly begins to smile and shakes her hand.

“I’m going to assume Dean is with you,” Sam looks back to you.

“And Bobby,” You smile at the mention of his name. “Come on, they’d love to see you,” 

“I’m not sure if love is the right word but they sure as hell will be shocked,” You say following after him. Sam grins a bit but doesn’t comment. “Y/d/n, I want you to stay behind me or by Sam, alright? I don’t know how Uncle Dean and Grandpa Bobby are going to react but don’t be scared. If it gets too much, step outside, alright?”

“Ok,” Y/d/n nods. You smile kissing the top of her head. Sam glances back at you and his niece. A fond smile coming to his lips.

“We’re in here,” Sam mutters opening the door. Dean doesn’t even glance up but Bobby does. The instant Bobby sees you he drops the beer he was holding.

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean snips when some of it splashes on him.

“Use your eyes and look, boy,” Bobby snapped back. Dean looks at Bobby and then to you. You notice Dean pale.

“Hi, boys,” You whisper.

“What’re you doing here?” Dean asks, after a long silence.

“I came to see you Dean,” You tell him. Dean scoffs.

“What do you want?” He rephrases his words.

“Nothing,” You shake your head. “Sam called-”

“We both called,” Dean snapped. “Hundred of times we called,” You press your lips together. “Did you even listen to them?” He asks standing up.

“Every one of them,” You whisper.

“And you never thought to call back?” He growls stepping closer to you. “What about the time Sammy begged you to come back? What about when I begged? When I told you we needed you? Where the hell have you been?”

“Taking care of me,” Y/d/n speaks up. Dean’s head snaps over to her. You look at her as well. She looks nervous but you smile proudly as she puts on a brave face and walks up to Dean. She looked scared but she didn’t waver as she stopped in front of your angry brother. “I’m Y/d/n... and I’m ten... almost,” 

Dean stares at her, his mind processing everything. He slowly looks from her, to you, back to her. She shifts a bit but continues to look strong.

“It’s my fault she had to leave,” She continues.

“Baby-” You try to interrupt but she wont let you.

“I don’t know the whole story but I know she misses you and Uncle Sammy and Grandpa John and Grandpa Bobby a lot,” You glance at Bobby. The old geezer has tears in his eyes as she says ‘Grandpa Bobby’. “She told me all about the pranks you would pull together and how you would all look after each other. She would tell me stories every night. She wanted to go back to you but she wouldn’t because of me...” She whispers.

“Y/d/n, we talked about this,” You say, slowly turning your daughter to face you. “None of this is your fault, ok? I love you and I don’t blame you a bit because it’s not your fault. Yes, I missed my brothers and your grandpas but I love you so much that I would stay away. There’s so much you don’t know still and I’ll tell you when you get a little older but-”

“It was safer for you two to stay away,” Dean whispers. You glance at your brother. He’s staring at you. “She just wanted to protect you, she did what she had to do. She was always good at doing the right thing,” You smile a bit.

“There’s a few things I could have done differently,” You shrugged.

“A text would have been nice,” Sam muttered and you smiles a bit.

“How about letters?” You ask. Y/d/n pulls a large stack of letters out of her bag. “They’re addressed to all of you,” You say tearing up. “There’s some for dad too but...” You sniffle a bit.

“You’re here,” Dean whispers, disbelief clouding his eyes. You glance at him. For a moment you’re looking at teenage Dean.

“And I’m safe,” You smile a bit. Dean’s smile widens just a bit. “I just have to figure out a way to keep you safe... Can’t leave you boys alone for a second,” You tease tearfully. Dean smiles and pulls you into a tight hug. Sam comes up to you as well and you wrap your arms around your little, yet taller, brothers. “I love you both so much,” You whisper.

@akshi8278​