#never not thinking about them (bobby and dean)

[shallowseeker]

Yeah, I mean if I were Sam, I'd honestly feel more comfortable bringing up something symbolic like this because it allows it to live in this strange world of safer(?) abstractions.

I mean, there he is, pointing out something he passively "did" as a mere infant (being born, being targeted by Azazel) as a way to bizarrely equalize himself and Jack. It feels like a very forced way to parallel them.

A closer parallel could've been when soulless Sam almost sacrificed Bobby, or when Godstiel called them nostalgia and almost moved to kill them, or when Demon Dean was seconds from bashing Sam's head in with a hammer, or when Mary almost blew Sam and Dean's brains out while under the MoL influence, etc etc.

These "almosts" are soooo much closer in nature to what actually happened than Sam pivoting to the circumstances of his birth! "I killed mom" has the same abstract feeling of self-worthlessness that "not being pure" does. It's inherent. Inevitable. Uncontrollable. Just a fact of life. Passive.

Aside/// Sam's internalized hatred of "ever being born" doesn't happen in a vacuum, for sure. This is something that numerous characters also blamed Sam for, like the clever "aside" to the audience in the "Nutcracker" game during Changing Channels:

GAMESHOW ANNOUNCER: Would your Mother and Father still be alive... if your brother was never born?

(The answer is, of course, at least in Gabe's world: yes.)

But it's still interesting to me how it unintentionally allows Sam to sidestep... a lot of real decisions, like what you mentioned, the Emma thing.

It also allows him to sidestep his not-decisions, like doing nothing after Kevin got kidnapped. Even later, when Sam focused on "letting Dean down so hard he had to turn to other brothers," he doesn't explicitly mention his abandonment OF other people, like for example Kevin. Crowley does this exact same thing imho when he rants about Kevin's (lack of) safety being mostly attributable to The Winchesters (TM) positioning himself as the wise, savvy one who "warned Kevin" of the danger (no matter that Crowley tortured Kev and killed Kev's relatively harmless fellow students. Not to mention tortured his friggin' mom). If memory serves, Cas calls Crowley out on this, lol.

Anyway, later when Lucifer mentions "the Amelia and the dog thing," Kevin does not feature there either, at least not obviously? By contrast, with respect to Dean's feeling of guilt and also the later assignment of blame for Kevin's death by Sam, Crowley and Metatron: Kevin gets mentioned a good bit! Usually directly TO Dean. Surprise, surprise.)

I personally think it'd be much more emotionally trying for Sam to bring up actual things he's done over the years (something-something human sacrifice, almost killing Bobby, Emma, that one Lester dude he preyed on, Oskar, etc.)

It reminds me a bit of his words in Tombstone to Jack:

Sam takes a deep breath, trying to follow up all that heavy honesty with his own wisdom. This time, he tries mimicking Cas’s earlier words, which seemed to work in the car. (Notably, he misses them mark because he’s not specific like Cas was. Cas underlines that he’s killed people he loves, but Sam keeps it vaguer: “Things we regret.”) And with Sam, Jack shuts down again. He’s sharp about it this time. Jack’s body language has Sam reeling back, hands up.

transcript: SAM: Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's… it’s not easy. And we’ve all done things we regret. JACK (very sharp): Just don’t. 

So yeah, while a feeling of inherent self-worthlessness is absolutely crushing in its own right, I think it's fascinating to consider that in some ways, it allows for an abstract "original sin," that allows Sam to look away from his actual mistakes.

(And again, I suppose we're all a little bit like this as humans. It's hard to admit when we fail, so I have sympathy!)

Society if instead of saying he killed Mary too by “being born,” Sam brought up something much more comparable. Killing…Emma. If was just a moment, a split second decision.

[s0fter-sin]

i’d love to know how much of early day's spn subtext was deliberate or just a happy accident bc the subplot of 1x08 bugs is sam and dean butting heads about how they were raised and sam hating it while dean tells him he should accept it as they protect a family; predominantly a father and son

the father and son argue bc the son is different and not who the father wants him to be while the son feels ignored and shunned (aka sam). sam spends the episode empathising with him and telling him he can look forward to going to college to get away from him just like he did while dean cuts in to say he should stick with his family

the entire episode, dean defends john and the way he raised them ("maybe he needed to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line"), it even starts with him and sam arguing over their illegal ways of making money and how they were brought up in the life; dean adapting to and enjoying it and sam wanting to be honest and straight

they talk about sam being sure john is and always has been disappointed in him just for dean to say john used to go to stanford whenever he could to check on him and something about his expression is so bitter; like he knows john would never express that care for him

but at the climax when they're trying to get matt to convince his dad to leave, sam is the one telling him to tell the truth and make his dad listen whereas dean tells him to lie; implying he wouldn't trust his son enough to believe him

he outright scoffs at sam and asks him what he was thinking for trying to get matt to tell the truth

the entire episode, dean is advocating for the kid to work it out (almost to just take it) and stay with his family but when push comes to shove, he tells him to lie

sam who spent years resenting john and his family for how they were raised, fell back on "making him listen"; echoing all the arguments he had with john, trying to force him to understand who he is while john's too blinded by vengeance to even begin to try. the same way sam refuses to see how they were raised and why they were raised that way from john’s point of view, hinting at how similar people they are (which still isn’t an excuse but also not the point rn)

dean winchester, the king of repression and masking (and fawning), dean who at this point is still staunchly defending john, tells a shunned kid with a harsh father to pretend in order for his father to care enough to listen to him and believe him

dean knows reasoning won't work bc he's watched it happen over and over again with sam and john

even the way matt tries to say, “but he’s my… (father)” feels like he’s coming over to dean’s point of view; that matt as a son respects his father to enough to tell the truth and no matter how much they’ve fought, that should trump everything. but dean still insists he lies. and matt tells the truth. and his father doesn’t listen

there's no way they intentionally made dean subconsciously know that a man raising his son in a mimicry of how john raised them wouldn't respect or trust his son enough to believe him about something potentially life threatening after half a season of john ignoring them about something potentially life threatening

right?

[lordstormageddidnt]

You ever think about how in supernatural *ducks to avoid my mutual's broom* its always dean who refers to bobby as their (him and Sam's) father *puts up shield to avoid getting sprayed by water gun* do you think this is because sam sees dean as his father figure so instead bobby is more of sam's grandpa figure or what

[hufflepuffheaven]

will never stop thinking abt how the man who would be king is such a destiel centric episode like dean defended cas to bobby and sam until he absolutely couldn’t and was in so much pain thinking about them accusing cas of working with crowley behind his back but also worried that the angel he has a profound bond with was turning against them. he wanted so badly for what they felt to be true to be wrong because it meant he would lose his best friend and the angel he secretly had feelings for YOU CAN JUST SEE IT ON HIS FACE !!!

and don’t even get me started on castiel’s narration of this episode - he talks so much about how dean has changed him and feels the worst about his betrayal because of his bond with dean. LIKE DESTIEL IS IN THE DETAILS COMMMMEONNNN !!!

[ultravi0lence14]

My Girl

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.2k | angst, fluff

summary: some people just don’t know when to quit, and when dean notices how uncomfortable you are with a local cop on a case, he can’t seem to hold in his anger.

there was no way this hunt could get any worse.

you, sam, and dean had only been in this small, connecticut town for two days, and everything had already gone to shit. the lead witness was no help, there was barely any evidence, and to top it all off, you had to see him.

max mcmillan, the person you wished to never see again. you knew him in high school, being a friend of a friend and running into him on rare occasions.

max seemed like a nice guy, his only flaw was he always harboured a weird liking towards you. it wasn’t something you’d deem stalkerish, just an observation that you had made over the years.

just your luck he was here now, working as one of the police officers on the case. you had politely smiled at him when you first saw him, but the second he realized who you were it was almost as though that keen liking he had towards you crawled back up.

he would always be around you. getting you coffee, trying to start up a conversation, and being way too close for your comfort. you could tell that dean had noticed this, and he seemed as though he was one more shoulder pat away from blowing a fuse.

dean could tell you were uncomfortable. he knew what you looked like when that chill of unease ran up your spine, and he knew how you were about physical touch.

you were never good with people touching you, even as a young child. if someone even grazed your hand you would unravel into a fit of tears, needing to be alone for the next couple of hours to calm yourself down.

no hugs, handshakes, hand holding, anything. you didn’t have a healthy relationship with physical affection as a child, for both of your parents were not really the perfect candidates for mom and dad of the year. but you lived with it, and dealt with your no physical contact for many years to come.

that was until dean winchester came into your life.

you had met the infamous winchesters when bobby asked them to assist you on a ghoul case two years back, and since then, you three have been inseparable.

from the start you liked dean. he had this charm and whit about him that just reeled you in, wanting to know more. didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous on top of it.

the boys almost instantly noticed your distaste for any physical touch. it was sam who saw you flinch when he went to go hug you after a tough case. since then, they have respected your wishes and didn’t bring up the matter unless you did first.

as you and dean got closer, he would constantly catch you reaching out but reeling back at the last minute. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he waited until you two officially started dating, making sure you were comfortable with him touching you.

you were, one hundred percent. dean winchester was the only person you’d allow to hug, touch, or even hold your hand. you were slowly warming up to sam, but any other person was completely off limits, and if dean noticed he’d be on their ass in a second.

so as he stood in this police precinct, a watchful eye on max as he leaned over your shoulder, practically breathing down your neck and making you tense immediately, dean wanted to beat into his face until he learned what personal space and boundaries were.

sam had noticed the man’s unwanted attention on you, but he also noticed the fury written on his brothers face and he wanted to defuse the situation as calmly as possible.

while they stood side by side, pretending to listen to some cop ramble on about a traffic cam that wasn’t even in importance to the case, sam angled his head and whispered over to dean. “if you stare at him any longer i think you might explode his head.”

the older winchester just huffed, redirecting his eyes so he can look at sam. “well if he doesn’t back up than i might just have to.” the words came out like a bullet coming out of a gun; followed by dean straining his head so he could keep an eye on your facial expressions.

“she can handle herself, dean. you don’t need to worry about her all the time.” sam was right. you were perfectly capable in handling yourself and dean knew that. he just had a nagging feeling that this guy wasn’t going to back off so easily.

you were on the verge of turning and clocking max in the face. his breath on your skin was making you uncomfortable and he was way too close for comfort.

“the suspect couldn’t have gone far since- Y/N?” you hadn’t even realized you had zoned out, too busy being focused on calming your breathing and not breaking down.

“i’m sorry,” you spoke, taking a step back from max and turning towards the door. “i’ll be back, i just need to get some fresh air.” you didn’t even wait for a response as you sprinted towards the glass double doors, pushing them open and heavily breathing in the cool air.

leaning against the solid brick of the station, you tried to stop a panic attack from coming on. slowing your breathing, calming your thoughts, and taking in the fresh air was helping you get back on track. that was until you heard his nagging voice again.

“there you are Y/N. i think you should come back inside, i think i’ve found something.” max had come and stood so close to you it was like he was trying to mesh the two of you together. you couldn’t take it anymore, taking a giant step back and reeling your hands out in front of you.

“max, i am so sorry but can you please give me some personal space?” he seemed taken aback by your words, halting in all movement he was planning on doing. you realized you could’ve been nicer but this had been going on for two days and you were sick and tired of acting like you were fine.

doing the complete opposite of what you had asked, max started to step closer to you. “what’s wrong, Y/N? did i do something?” it was like what you were saying was going in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t grasp what the boy wasn’t picking up on

“max, please.” you breathed out, hoping he would understand and leave you alone. but he just came closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his chest.

the air in your lungs escaped. you couldn’t breath and it was almost as if your skin was on fire. you tried to pull away but his grip was far too tight, fighting your attempt to get away from his touch. “cmon, Y/N let’s just go inside. work this out together.” he was dragging you now, attempting to get you to the precinct doors. but the fight you were putting up was straining any further moves he had planned.

feebly trying to push at his chest with your other hand, you felt tears sting your eyes, escaping and falling down your cheeks. “let me go max, please.” you could feel your brain shutting down, the notion of max not listening to a single word you were saying finally setting in.

you could feel your resolve start to slip when suddenly, you heard a faint shout in the distance. a loud “hey!” was heard over your racing heart before max was spun around and knocked to the ground.

dean was holding max up by his collar, fist landing repeated blows on his face. you could see sam and a couple other officers run outside as dean held max up like a rag doll, the latter not even being able to land any punches with how tight dean was holding him.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” dean’s words came out gritted through his teeth, sharp like a knife piercing max’s skin.

you didn’t know what to do. dean was in such a frenzy that trying to pull him away would just be stupid, and you were honestly enjoying watching max get his ass beat.

“dean!” sam yelled, finally reaching his brother and trying to pull him off the struggling man. the older winchester just wouldn’t budge, and it took sam and three other cops to fully detach him from max’s limp body.

you watched as sam attempted to pull dean’s arms behind him, the latter fighting his brother with such intense fervour you truly thought he was going to break free and go for another couple of punches on max’s face.

when sam was able to slightly calm dean down, the older winchester walked to max and got right in his face, staring at the other man with the deadliest look you have possibly ever seen from him. “if you even step one foot towards my girl, i’ll fucking break your legs. got it?” all max could do was slightly nod, slipping in and out of consciousness

the other police officers had gone inside to get medical attention and had now come out to see if max had sustained any proper injuries from dean’s beating. before any of them could even utter a word, dean had walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand, following sam as the younger winchester high tailed it to the impala.

the car ride back to the motel was silent, filled with a tense atmosphere that had you picking at your nails. dean was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the wounds on his bloodied knuckles were widening more greatly. sam was just staring ahead, not saying a word. if you knew the boy though, you knew that inside he was stewing with a multitude of emotions.

when the impala stopped in front of the motel, you got out and went directly to the room. you noticed sam stop dean, not letting him walk into the room yet. the look on his face was passive, and you knew that sam had an earful waiting for dean to hear. so you just closed the door, listening to sam scold dean through the window.

all you could do was sit on your bed and stare silently at the wall. this is exactly what you would do as a kid, sit in silence trying to calm yourself down. you didn’t even hear the roar of the impala as sam drove off or dean come into the room. you only noticed when a soft, gentle hand was placed on your cheek, making you turn to look dean in the eyes.

“hey, baby, you okay?” all you could do was nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. dean just nodded, slightly brushing some hair out of your eyes as he smiled. “sam just went to grab some dinner. doesn’t look like we’ll be going back to the station tonight.” his sad attempt at a joke made you giggle slightly, warranting an even bigger smile on deans face.

“there she is.” he guided your head so it laid on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. the feeling of your arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing him tightly had dean feeling calm, at ease after all that just happened.

what snapped you out of your comfort was the scene of deans knuckles; stained with blood and marred with cut skin and angry red wounds. you pulled back and studied his hand, allowing yourself to truly see what he’d done.

“oh dean,” you muttered. bringing his hand closer to your face to see how truly bad the cuts were. “we need to clean this up.”

with a reassuring squeeze of your hand, dean got off the bed and stood in front of you. watching as your eyes worriedly followed his frame, waiting to see what he was going to do.

cupping your face once more, dean smiled as he spoke. “don’t worry your pretty little head, sunshine. i’ll patch myself up. i will be right back.” with that he kissed your cheek and made his way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him as you moved to get into comfier clothes.

by the time dean was done, you were already in bed. half asleep as you were tired from how fast your brain was moving today. you listened as dean got out of his fbi suit, resorting to just sleeping in his boxers as he moved to get in bed next to you.

your body moved so you could put your head onto dean’s chest, finding comfort in how close the two of you were. his one hand moved to play with your hair as his other went to grab your own hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and lightly brushing them across your skin.

the last thing you remember before falling into a deep sleep was the feeling of dean’s hand in your hair and his soft voice soothing all your worries from earlier.

“i’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

[dubina-dawkins]

DEAN WINCHESTER | NSFW HEADCANONS

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings/notes: smut! minors dni, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected (done by professionals don't try this at home), p in v, dean is switch, marking kink, praise kink, some dirty talk as well, gentle sex but not vanilla, like LOVEmaking even, just a lot of smutty stuff from my head, english is not my first language sorry if there's some mistakes

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

> let's just say. you're different

> it's strange, but somehow dean just couldn't bear a thought of fucking you before all of your relationship thing started

> that "storgy" thing where you were friends for half your life before you started dating

> and even after you did became his girlfriend dean just... was scared to think about something spicy with you?

> until one day he was too tired to care, when your kisses became hotter and he couldn't bring himself to hold back as usual

> like, really too tired. everything that going on is kinda exhausting him. but you're always there to help!

> your first time together? even though dean couldn't hold back anymore, it doesn't mean he was fast and rough

> no, he's one of the gentle kind

> kisses all over your body and very long foreplay

> but at one point you just get tired of these idle kisses and just

> "quit the talking, please"

> man, he's completely screwed at that point

> marking works both ways, actually

> no, really, dean adores the sight of you in his marks. hickeys, lovebites

> it intoxicates him better than any whiskey

> he pays extra attention to your neck. and to your breasts, too

> but sometimes when it sam's turn on doing the laundry, he sees there some of dean's flannels

> and their collars are stained with dark traces of lipstick...

> when dean feels your waxy lips on his skin, he knows it would leave a mark. knows he'll need to shower those off

> but from the way you look at him, when your lipstick is smeared over his lips, cheeks, neck and all the way down

> he'd rather never take a shower to keep these

> your lovebites and nibbles drive him crazy

> to the point he whimpers your name. and you're not even starting!

> scratches too. he gets teased about these. a lot. by nearly anyone who sees them

> he's not intense kind, - not all the time at least

> but it feels too good for you not to leave a mark of your nails on his back

> "did you take the tiger in fight?"

> "sammy, shut it."

> he'd like to do it nearly everywhere, it's just you who keeps him on track

> he'd slip his hands under your jacket the very second you leave witness' house, being in fbi undercover

> "good suit, agent carol kay... seriously, you couldn't come up with a better name?"

> "agent joey kramer says"

> for you the height of extreme is the back seat of the Baby, especially when she's standing at Bobby's

> dean would never admit it, but he's a sucker for you in charge

> you don't need much to get him turned on

> one "good boy" is enough

> and he's so worked out about it

> you tease him, kiss him, touch him, and he already needs to bite on his lip

> especially when you get to his chest. he didn't joke about his nipples being hypersensitive

> there's no words that can describe thst heavenly sound he makes when you tease his sensitive tip, when your fingers work on the entire length

> he whines your name, stroking your hair. his sounds are purely animalistic when you finally take him all in your mouth

> dean's not huge, but he's bigger than average. and it definitely is enough to make you moan his name, sometimes in a really pornographic way

> "please, baby... let me c-"

> "not yet, pretty boy" you whisper, letting his hardened cock put of your mouth with a wet pop

> it's like a tradition. when you two have an extra-time, you prepare each other. you sucking him off, him eating you out. swings of gentle dominance and comfort submission.

> dean, unlike his brother, is not a puppy-look person... but when he's between your thighs, kissing and nibbling on the skin, and his gaze rises to your face, begging to go further..

> then he really looks like an obedient dog.

> extra attention to your clit. sucking, licking, sucking again. dean adores the sounds you make at these

> but most of the time it's just a stress relief after tough hunts

> or when sam goes out to get some food

> quick and needy

> and you fucking adore seeing your always tough man being needy for at least your hand in his hair

> at very least.

a/n: love him. my man. my boy. my everything. god im obsessed, hyperfixated and ovulated. the unlohy trinity.

[scoobydoodean]

You really just can't unsee it once you see it though, can you?

Sam starts blaming Dean for what he's going to do (work with Ruby) way back in 3.09 because Dean isn't going to be around to be Sam's mommy, which is going to force Sam's hand.

After Dean comes back, Sam actually blames Dean for him working with Ruby by saying Dean wasn't there to protect him (4.04).

Dean repeatedly begs Sam not to work with Ruby and is ignored repeatedly (3.03, 3.04, 3.09, 3.16, 4.01-4.04, 4.12-4.22).

After telling Dean to open up to him and trust him (4.08), Sam calls Dean weak and pathetic for being traumatized by hell and says Dean is holding him back and therefore deserves to be lied to because he can't be of use (4.14) Sam says it's not what he really thinks when they both know it is (and Sam repeats it to other characters in 4.16, and 4.18) and then he admits it's the truth again to Dean's face in 4.21.

Sam accuses Dean of not trusting him enough (4.21).

Bobby blows up at Dean for not supporting Sam enough and calls him a pansy after Sam strangled Dean near unconscious, and tells him family is supposed to make you miserable (4.22).

Dean tries to reach out to Sam and Zachariah and Cas actively prevent him from doing so (Cas only at first) (4.22)

Zachariah (5.01) and Cas (5.02) both tell Dean the apocalypse is his fault because Dean didn't reach Sam in time to stop him from killing Lilith.

Dean says Sam hurt him, Sam is the one Dean depended on the most and Sam hurt him in ways he can't even voice (5.01). Sam apologizes, but then in the very next episode, shoves Dean into a wall for not trusting him like Dean is crazy and irrational when Sam doesn't even trust himself (5.02).

Sam says he thinks they should go their separate ways and is shocked when Dean agrees easily. Dean says that he spends more time worrying about Sam than he does doing the job right and time apart would be good. Sam reiterates that he's sorry and Dean gently says he knows Sam is (5.02).

Cas asks Dean if he's okay even without his brother, and Dean says "Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I’ve had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had with Sam in years, and you’re not that much fun. It’s funny, you know, I’ve been so chained to my family, but now that I’m alone, hell, I’m happy." (5.03)

Sam says he wants back in. Dean objects, on the basis that he thinks they're stronger apart. Dean says they're each other's weaknesses and it's being used against them (5.04, but the weakness line is repeated from 3.03 and 3.16).

Zachariah pushes Dean into a future 2014 where Dean never met up with Sam again, and as a result, Sam said "Yes" to Lucifer, and billions of people died. All because Dean didn't want to be around Sam after being hurt and never reconnected with him (5.04).

Dean reconnects with Sam (5.04) even though he clearly doesn't want to, because the first case we see them on again, Dean struggles to trust Sam and leaves to go drink alone because he doesn't want to be around Sam (5.05).

Sam says part of the reason he went off with Ruby was to get away from Dean, because Dean is smothering. Dean is the problem in the relationship, because Sam feels inferior compared to him. Dean apologizes for being too smothering (5.05).

What does all of this tell you? Dean can't win. Dean will always be the bad guy in the family. He loves too much, or he isn't loving enough. Sam needs him and Dean wasn't there for him and so Sam went down the wrong path, but also Dean is smothering and Dean being smothering is the reason Sam went down the wrong path. Sam is not a trustworthy person, but Dean doesn't trust him enough. Sam not being trustworthy is Dean's fault. Dean doesn't deserve trust, but Sam deserves Dean's trust no matter what and not giving Sam his trust is the worst possible thing in the entire world and also again makes him smothering. The apocalypse is Dean's fault. Every single thing Sam does every single mistake he might ever make in his life is always at least partly Dean's fault and Dean's responsibility.

[t1red-twilight]

soft dean headcannons

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, mentions of trauma

notes: i don’t think i’ve binged a show as much as i’ve binged supernatural lol

word count: 0.4k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

- no matter what he admits, dean is clingy.

- everyone, including sam, bobby- everyone is aware.

- sam teases him hardcore when they’re alone, but dean honestly doesn’t mind.

- he is very touchy.

- like super touchy (because of his dad, he has some flavor of abandonment issues. this manifests in dean always having a hand on you in some format. you don’t mind.)

- loves holding your hand, and he’ll do that thing where he pokes your hand until you grab his

- loves hugging from behind, and he kisses your shoulder when he does

- hand on your thigh when he drives 😩🤚

- every now and then he lets you pick the music in his car

- has super chapped lips, but at your request starts wearing chapstick

- wears fun flavors like cola or bubblegum and tries to have you guess the flavor

- he likes the grape one.

- almost always smiles when he kisses you

- just like out of force of habit

- brings you on hunts, but not to the fights. but when he gets back he’ll just hold you in a tight embrace for a really long time

- enjoys domesticity

- such as: non-sexual nudity, buying you the snacks you like when you get groceries, puts on/takes off your jackets for you

- keeps a list of things to remember about you so he’s sure he never forgets

- he’s not sentimental, not in the typical way at least

- he’s not rom-com love interest by any means, but he never forgets anniversaries (even without his list)

- cannot get close enough to you-

- he’s always inching his chair closer to yours or pulling you infinitely closer to him when you kiss

- you catch him looking at you all the time

- he’s just 👁️ 👁️ __ __ 👁️ 👁️

- his little soft smiles when you enter a room

- you can always tell when he’s upset, but he’ll never outright admit it. but you’re always there when he needs you

- if he has a hard day, he’ll come back to you and lay on your lap or nap with you

- tells you about his scars as you trace them (cliche😔)

- still stumbles over his words when he talks to you. his crush on you never really went away

- BIG on inside jokes. can and will quote them to make you laugh in serious situations

- took him a long time to realize that he actually liked you and wanted to be with you, and even longer to realize that you liked him just as much.

- anyways live laugh love dean

[prentissluvr]

something about being close — sam winchester

pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).

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

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket. 

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years. 

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.” 

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours. 

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have. 

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up. 

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch. 

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed. 

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel. 

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat. 

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand. 

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love. 

but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips. 

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap. 

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth. 

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible. 

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

[ryngzmn]

What Was I Thinkin’

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you find yourself sneaking out of bobby’s house to be with your boyfriend, dean.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k (I’m writing longer fics yay!)

WARNINGS: established relationship, early seasons dean bc I feel like he’d be more likely to do this, me trying to combine lyrics of a song into a fic (yes, that deserves a warning.)

A/N: uhh obviously this was inspired by What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley (PLS LISTEN TO THAT AND 5-1-5-0, THEY’RE BOTH SO GOOD🙏🙏 /nf) also I know dean probably wouldn’t listen to country music but let’s js pretend for the sake of the fic!

You were lying in bed, staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling as you waited for a certain someone to throw a small pebble at your window.

When you heard the thump against your window, you immediately sprung up and looked out.

It was your boyfriend, Dean.

Well… secret boyfriend, technically. Your father, Bobby, didn’t know about you guys yet!

You always remember all the times Bobby had chewed you a new one, blabbering about how much of a bad influence Dean would be.

You didn’t think so, you saw the good in Dean, how sweet he could be despite his rough edges.

Once Dean saw your head peek through the window, a wide grin appeared on his face.

He threw you a wink before beckoning you to come to him. You nodded and quickly shut your window.

You snuck out of your bedroom, narrowly avoiding the floorboards that you knew for sure would creak and possibly wake up your father.

Sneaking out with Dean or friends in general had its perks.

That perk being knowing which floorboards to avoid and which ones to not avoid.

It took you a few extra minutes to get out the front door this time around because last time Bobby had already been awake for some odd reason and asked what you were doing up.

You quickly made an excuse, saying you were getting some water before hastily filling up a glass and retreating back to your room.

It was safe to say that you made it out of the house without any interference from Bobby.

That was until you heard him faintly cursing from inside the house, and you just knew that he saw or heard you sneak out.

You rushed over to Dean’s Impala — or *Baby* as he always called it — and swung the door open, almost ripping it off before climbing inside.

“Drive. Now!” You told Dean in a slightly panicked tone.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over, seeing Bobby running out of the house and waving a 12-gauge.

He put Baby in drive and tore out of the junkyard and he could hear Bobby fire a few shots.

He’d have to check his tailgate later.

After speeding down the road for a bit, Dean reached over and pulled out a mixtape for you to take.

me ‘n them was the title that was messily scrawled onto it.

“What’s this?” Came your questioning voice, yet you put the mixtape into the dashboard anyway.

“It’s a mixtape I made. It’s ‘bout us.” Dean explained proudly, hitting a button on the dashboard before you heard a country song start playing.

You looked over at him, slack-jawed and eyes wide. In all the time that you know him, he never listened to country music.

“What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley, seriously?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if Dean was in the right headspace.

“Just listen to it!” Dean assured, casting a glance in your direction. “I promise it’ll remind you about us.”

You sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat of the Impala, listening to the lyrics of the song that was playing.

She snuck out one night and met me by the front gate

Her daddy came out wavin' that 12-gauge

We tore out the drive, he peppered my tailgate

What was I thinkin'?

You scoffed at listening to the lyrics, it sounded just like what had happened moments earlier.

You reached out to turn it off, or skip the song, but Dean smacked your hand away.

“Uh-uh, you’re listening to this song whether you like it or not.” Dean chided, waving a finger in your direction. You huffed.

Oh, I knew there'd be hell to pay

But that crossed my mind a little too late

You had later noticed Dean taking a dirt path that was off the highway, but you didn’t question it. You had a vague idea on what he was planning to do.

So instead, you busied yourself with listening to the lyrics of the Dierks Bentley song that was starting to become catchy.

'Cause I was thinkin' 'bout a little white tank top

Sittin' right there in the middle by me

I was thinkin' 'bout a long kiss

Man, just gotta get goin' where the night might lead

I know what I was feelin'

But what was I thinkin'?

What was I thinkin'?

You felt the Impala jolt slightly as Dean put it in park, opening the car door and climbing out.

You climbed out as well, watching as Dean sat on the hood of Baby and glanced back at you before patting the spot next to him.

You wordlessly complied, the front of the Impala shifting and creaming under your guys’ combined weight.

Dean leaned in close, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin where your neck and shoulder met.

You chuckled, nudging Dean away before looking at him.

“Did you really take me out here just to see the stars?” Dean placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense at the prospect that you didn’t like his surprise.

“You don’t like my gift?” Dean asked, his tone full of playful accusation. “I’ll have you know that I planned this out perfectly.”

You laughed, turning back to the night sky.

“Whatever,”

Dean laughed as well, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

—————————————————————————

It wasn’t until half past two that Dean had gotten you home, and he couldn’t deny the spike of slight nervousness he felt when he saw Bobby sitting on the porch.

That stupid 12-gauge was still with him, too. It was leaning against the porch steps, almost taunting him.

To be honest, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby decided to shoot him in the chest right there and then.

But he didn’t.

Instead he slowly got up and walked over, arms crossed as he examined the two of you.

Bobby’s eyes landed on Dean, his gaze scrutinizing.

“You idjit, thinkin’ you could just make my child sneak out the house to hang out with ya?” He grunted before moving his gaze to you.

“And you.” You shifted awkwardly, swallowing down your nerves.

You were a hundred percent ready for your father to demand that you stop seeing Dean, even if it’d break your heart.

“I can tell you really like this idjit,” Bobby admitted with a sigh, his arms dropping to the side. “So I’ll let this whole thing slide.”

You felt relief hit you like a freight train, your eyes lighting up with a hint of hope.

“Really?”

Bobby nodded, “Yup. Just make sure to tell me if you’re gonna sneak out later in the night so I don’t almost have a heart attack worryin’ about you.”

You laughed quietly, looking over at Dean.

“Okay, dad.”

Bobby gave a small smile before he walked back inside.

You turned to Dean, smiling at him. “Well, I’ll see ya next time you arrange a date for us.

Dean smirked, “you bet.”

You stepped closer before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

Dean’s smirk fell into a giddy smile before he pulled you in for a proper kiss on the lips.

Soon after, he watched you run back inside as you waved wildly at him in goodbye before the front door closed behind you.

—————————————————————————

tags<3 : @ryvkkr

[amialunatic]

Just trust me baby..

divider credits to @anitalenia

Based on anon request: would you be willing to write a sam fic about his first time between him and reader where she has scars from her time with a vamp nest (say she was taken a while back and that’s how she got into hunting) and she’s insecure and a little anxious with having his mouth on her body because of the way she was once treated but sam is very patient and understanding. basically just really sweet and sam is catering and talks her through it :,)

Warning: Light smut, Fingering, Sam Winchester/ Hunter!Reader, Fem!Reader, brief mention of readers time in vampire nest. 

A/N: Omg my first actual fic. I'm quite stoked to be putting it out. Nervous too. I hope you all like it. I'm starting simple and soft core ig.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

“Hey, you awake?” Dean called from the driver’s seat. That jolted you from down the memory lane. They were returning from the hunt. It was rough. At least 10 vampires. 3 newly turned, innocent, and pain-stricken but unable to control themselves. You guys had to kill them all. Everyone sustained injuries. That was natural. You getting bitten was not. You tried your best to not get bitten as it brought back nightmares that lasted quite a while than you cared to admit.

Sharp teeth piercing you had been a routine for weeks. Until you were rescued by Bobby and the boys. They found you on the brink of death. Several weeks of hospitalization later, you were fit to hunt. You hunted alone, focused mostly on vampires. And sometimes with the boys if the targets were nests. Helping those trapped there brought you catharsis. You wanted to be the hunter you needed all those weeks. And you strived your best to be that.

As you got out of Impala to the motel you were staying, you realized how tired you were. Slumped shoulders and bitten forearms, you moved slowly to your room. In the background, you hear Dean invite Sam for a drink and he refuses. As soon as you enter the room, you get into the shower. Maybe warm water can block out the sensations, the fangs that haunt your mind when you close your eyes. It never has, but you always hope it does this time. As you get out, red from the shower, you hear a knock. Sam’s voice calls out ���Hey, it’s me.”

You open the door to see him standing at the door frame all fidgety. “I didn’t think you’d be showering.” he looked unsure almost second guessing his decision.

“I was done.” You moved back as he let himself in. Awkwardly standing with his arms on the chair, brows furrowed he asks “You okay?”. “As ok as you’d be after ganking a bunch of vampires I guess” you tried to lighten the situation. But Sam was having none of that “ You got bitten”. “Yes Sam, vampires bite. That’s like their whole MO.” you poured sarcasm to derail the conversation. This enraged Sam. “Don’t downplay this” his voice raises.

Reaching your breaking point and seeing that Sam wouldn’t leave you without a confrontation, you spit out the truth “You wanna know? OK. I’m fucking tired and I’ll probably have nightmares for days." Your outburst continued as you paced the room in a dressing gown. "You wanna know how weak I am, how the thing that happened to me years ago still brings me to my knees? There you go”. These moments were always followed by tears for you. But he didn't have to know that. You move across to the window facing the half-empty parking lot and turn away, not wishing to humiliate yourself further.

You hear the shuffling of feet as you feel two large hands wrap around me. “Y/N..” his voice laced with sympathy and concern. You lean into his familiar hug, your back nestled against his chest, his warmth enveloping your core. “Sam. I..I don’t want you..guys to see me weak. I am not weak.” you sigh. Sam chuckles “Now that’s the dean-est sentiment I’ve heard you express.” you appreciated his efforts to cheer you up.

“Hey it’s not like you too to sit around and express your feelings” you counter.

He sighs “I know. Me and Dean. Not the greatest examples of sharing feelings. But..you can tell stuff to me. You know that right?” He continues. “Also I don’t think you’re weak at all. Infact you’re one of the most badass hunters for recovering and facing your fears.”

You look down with a grateful smile “Thanks Sam.” As you turn around to face him, you take in his face. His eyes look desperate. Like he is trying to convince you that he can be your safe place. That you needn’t be scared of being vulnerable. And you can’t help but place a kiss between his furrowing eyebrows. Those lines that form when he is worried. You wanted to stop those and let him convince you. To forget the pain and nightmares even for a moment.

“Kiss me”

He looked at you, slightly surprised. “Now? You sure?”.

They had made out before. But this felt different. Somehow more intense, somehow more desperate.

“Yeah Sam, kiss me. Now.”

He didn’t need more encouragement. He bend down, caught your face with his hands as he pressed his lips on to yours. Restrained strength flowed through his hands that he tried to keep in check while pure gentleness caressed your lips. He lifted you effortlessly so your faces were leveled as he continued kissing you, gently tugging your lower lip with his teeth drawing out sighs. You mindlessly tugged his flannel, wishing it’d disappear.

“Patience” He chuckles as placing you on the desk, your back against the wall. You hastily removed the buttons one by one while he untied the knot of your dressing gown in a nanosecond. Your freshly showered skin glistening with water drops stops him in his tracks. As he stares at your underwear-clad body mesmerized, he stops to notice the bite on your forearm, still fiery red, even with the ointment around it. Around your shoulder and neck were faint scars. He caresses the skin around the bite, careful not to cause you any pain. After gently running his fingers along the scars when he looks back to your eyes he only notices your fierce stare, bestowed on his eyes, his swollen lips, and his now visible body, muscular and oh so strong. How you wanted him to take you then and there.

Not wishing to drag it any longer, he starts kissing you again as you gently run your hands through the battle scarred abdomen of his. Moving down to trace a drop of water from your jaw to your neck, he presses gentle kisses coaxing you to lean back your head opening up your neck and chest in the process. He practically groans as he gently nibble across you neck connecting to your shoulder.

In a flash, you freeze and push him away. All of it happened so sudden, Sam stared at you one feet away, confused. In a moment of clarity, it dawned on him. He gently came close to you and tentatively caressed your sides. Your apologetic eyes said everything it needed to. He lifted your chin up to him.

“hey hey..baby. , it’s ok. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He looked at you concern etched in his forehead. When you remained silent he coaxed you “Baby, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just..I..was bitten..mouths on my body.” you shudder, visions running through the back of your eyes

“ Does it bring back memories?” He gently asks

“Sometimes, I just can’t block it. I want to Sam, believe me. I want this. I want you..so bad.” I look at him desperate.

“I know. But you know I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with right? We don’t have to do this at all”

“I want to. Sam. I need you.” you lock eyes with him, forehead burrowing

His eyes searched mine for any trace of hesitation. Seeing none, he reaffirms gently “Do you trust me, baby?” “I do” I whisper as I breath out.

“You can stop me whenever you need to.”

A corner of his lips curled revealing the deep dimple. “So no biting I guess?”

“Yeah, no biting.” You bit your lips slyly. “ Well not you anyway”

“I look forward to it, sweetheart” He nudge your lips again easing them apart. As the same time, his hands part your thighs as he stepped impossible close.

You feel his hands slipping the robe off you. Before long, his long fingers were moving closer to your core. His fingers slipped in to your panties and finding the wetness pooling, he groans. I met his gaze, my eyes a blend of desperation and embarrassment at being so affected by him. “Sam..”.

“I know baby” He looks at you for permission before plunging his finger in the wetness. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your fingers never managed to reach that deep. He ease it out. And again and again until you were a slobbering mess. To add to the torturous pleasure he lifts his palm so each thrust is paired with your clit being rubbed enough to cause friction but not enough to tip over. This was agony but delicious agony.

Sam looks into your convulsing face, his features radiating nothing but the desire to please you. To make you forget, to have a moment of pleasure, away from the darkness that consumes both of you. As you almost reach the height of pleasure, he adds in yet another finger. Through your hazily closed eyes, you don't see him kneeling. Suddenly you feel his warm mouth enveloping your clit. You gasp as your eyes flew open. “Sam..Sammy..” you say tentatively.

“Trust me baby..this will feel good” his voice is laced with soothing promise.

Before you can have further doubts, pleasure blankets you and drags you up to the height of it. As he sucks and laps gently, your hands involuntarily wander through his luscious locks. Finally with a cry and grasp of his hair, you tip over. His hands and lips soothe you through the fall with barely-there touches of your slit.

“oh god..that was..” you breathe heavily through your mouth as you struggle to push words out. Sam leans over and kiss you sloppily, with a goofy smile. “it’s cute to see you all thoughless and spent”

“Sam..you little jerk” you say in amidst panting.

“Hey remember I was the one making you moan my name a moment ago. Some gratitude” he smirks.

“And I’ll make you do the same, just you wait” you rope your hands through his neck pulling him.

"Is that a threat or a promise, honey? Either way, I'm all in." He interlocks his lips with yours, the deepening kiss tasting like an invitation for round two.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.

MAybe there should be a second part! Idk. This felt long but not long enough at the same time. Please let me know if anyone would like a second part. I'll try to write one (meaning I'll probably stress over it and write it in 2 weeks)

[angelsberrymilk]

I had never thought about shipping Soldier Boy and Sam, and now they won't leave my mind 👁️👄👁️

I need more of them!!!

soldier boy is mean and crazy, especially after being held captive for like 40 years and so when he finally escapes he realises everything changed and ppl have forgotten him as a hero. and it seems like the only person who genuinely cares abt him is this bright eyed guy who's freakishly tall and has princess hair, Sam, he said his name was.

the thing is, soldier boy's name is Ben, not freaking dean, and who's Dean anyway??? but that doesn't matter when Sam is there looking after him and is like, so glad he found him and hugs him so tight, and soldier boy misses the physical contact, misses human affection.

don't get me wrong now, soldier boy is a bad man, he's really shitty and everyone would be safer if he died, but luckily Sammy is there to distract him from committing crimes, or at least some of them.

Sammy knows that's not his brother, but that's a version of his brother, he wears his face and sounds like him, and he likes greasy burgers and shitty diner food, as it happens, so there's similarities after all. Sammy doesn't care that the more he looks into this guy, the more scary, and fucked up shit he finds abt him, this version of Dean is NOT good, he's a total maniac. but the only reason he's like this is because he doesn't have sam in this universe, doesn't have Bobby or Castiel or even Baby.

Soldier Boy drags Sammy with him whenever they go and Sammy follows, he listens to Sam trying to explain he's from another universe and that in the other universe they're brothers, and all soldier boy says is, "I'm not your brother," Sammy is a bit confused but keeps going and tells him abt monsters they hunt, demons, angels and soldier boy listens, and all he takes away from that speech is that Sammy is definitely on something, and soldier boy WANTS some from what he's having.

Sam also quickly realises that in this universe, people have superpowers, so gets cornered once at a gas stop by someone who can turn their skin into burning lava, and Sammy quickly realises he's vulnerable here, he doesn't know the first thing to fight off these people, it's a scary world, but then soldier boy shows up, and he's furious, blasts that person away and goes to town on them, he's animalistic, sadistic and brutal, with every hit, with every crunch and every rip, Sammy flinches, blood and fire flying everywhere.

and when soldier boy is done he has a wild look on his face, he's satisfied with his work, so he drags a shaking Sammy back in the car and Sammy just starts crying, he doesn't make any noises either and the man doesn't even know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think off and hugs him tight, and as soon as he wraps his inhumanly strong arms around Sammy, Sammy starts to sob. and soldier boy thinks of how to calm him down, so he thinks of westerns he's watched where the main lead would comfort the girl after she gets kidnapped or hurt, so he does just that, rocks them a little, runs his hands down Sammy's back and stroked his hair, shushing and cooing at him, that nobody will hurt him, not if soldiers there, not if deans there.

[casdeans-pie]

If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

[angelsdean]

desitel feelings / love timeline (2 me)

DEAN:

immediate attraction in s4 (hello he has eyes!)

s4 - 5, going from allies to friends, crushing hard and shooting his shot / flirting, but all of it goes over cas's head

s6 betrayal / cas's s7 death: when he starts realizing that the way he feels abt cas is Different and More than just a crush / friendship. bobby and sam not reacting the same way to cas's betrayal and death really starts to get the gears turning. then when bobby dies, dean also realizes his grief over cas is different from his grief over bobby. (also the keeping his coat, carrying it with them in every new car all throughout s7. like that man was in Love-love.)

s8: purgatory solidifies dean's feelings. all dean can think about for a year is finding cas, saving cas. he prays to him every night. his mind is just a skipping record of cas, cas, cas. i think by this point he's accepted his romantic feelings for cas. and by the end of s8 he was ready to tell cas how he felt in the crypt. he changes "love" to "need" (which imo is MORE insane and vulnerable actually) and then dean perceives cas's actions after the crypt as a rejection of dean's feelings). meanwhile, cas has not yet even realized his own feelings for dean are romantic love yet, more on that in a minute.

s9 - s12 imo are dean grappling with the fact that his love is unrequited and trying to live with that and maybe move on (drowley summer of love).

s13 -s14 : first the widowers arc of it all. dean realizing no matter what, cas was IT for him. there's never going to be anyone else for him. he doesn't want anyone else. dean accepting that cas is effectively his life partner and he's fine with them staying platonic (bc he still thinks cas doesn't feel the same way). dean stops hooking up. dean is content with the family unit they have made for themselves.

s15: dean grappling with the knowledge of chuck's manipulation over the years. dean questioning what's even real ("is his love for cas even real?") cas asserting that they are real. divorce arc. destiel miscommunication at its finest. dean once again thinking cas doesn't care for him the way he cares for cas. dean nearly losing cas again in purgatory and deciding to put his heart on the line (was going to confess before cas cut him off). then---cas's "i love you." dean overwhelmed in the moment. dean still not sure what cas's words mean until cas is taken by the empty and he processes the speech and declaration. and then he realizes--cas was in love with him. it was mutual. they could've had it. they could've been together for years. the one thing they both wanted---

CAS

immediate attraction in s4 (hello he has eyes! many eyes in fact!)

s4 - 5: going from allies to friends. cas remembering what it's like to FEEL again ("for the first time") after his millionth lobotomy. dean re-awakening those feelings, both for humanity at large and for dean specifically. but cas doesn't have a name for these feelings yet. he attributes them to his bond with dean / assumes most people feel like this about dean.

s6 - 8: cas largely still attributing his feeling for dean to their unique bond. cas putting the mission first. cas also dealing with his own guilt over his failures. not a lot of time for him to process his feelings for dean.

s9: cas has his italicized "oh" moment. i think it's a combination of being human and for the first time all the angel stuff isn't there, he can't attribute his feelings to their "bond." he's rooted in his body for the first time, really in-tune with his physical reactions too. i think early s9 is when he starts to realize his feelings for dean are different but he's still not quite putting a name to them. then metatron calls him out on those feelings (his snarky knowing "he's in love...with humanity") and then dean dying really solidify cas's feelings. he is now aware.

aaaaaand then s10 - 12 is him grappling with those feelings at the same time that dean is really starting to accept that cas doesn't feel the same and is trying to accept that they'll be nothing but platonic and move on. so that's why you get stuff like dean calling cas their "brother" (he's trying to be ok with this) while cas looks sick to his stomach bc he is just now really accepting and processing the fact that he's in romantic love with dean. gotta love that classic destiel miscommunication, never being on the same page at the same time.

by s13 he's accepted he's in love and is now thinking it's one sided and this is all they'll ever be. he's also still kinda avoiding it all throughout the later seasons, putting the Mission first again, leaving more often, focusing on jack stuff. really just putting his feelings on the back burner.

then s15. just like i said in the dean bullet point, the divorce arc stuff is more classic miscommunication. cas so badly wants dean to ask him to stay. dean so badly wants cas to stop leaving. they both need to just have one good conversation about all of this. anyways, the "i love you." truly i think mr. avoidant cas would have continued to keep his feelings for dean to himself perhaps forever, had it not been a life or death situation where he realized telling dean his feelings would trigger the empty deal. but he does tell him. and my personal headcanon is that when he does tell him he gets hit with a wave of feeling from dean (along with the love in his eyes) that basically confirms to cas that dean actually has felt the same way all this time. and also, i think cas has partially known for a while but let his own self doubt and insecurities convince him that dean couldn't possibly feel the same.

Additionally: i do enjoy another late seasons variation, where BOTH of them have a mutual awareness of each other's feelings, but they both let insecurities and circumstances convince them it's not the right time, or they don't deserve to have this. they keep putting off talking abt this thing between them because there's always another apocalypse or big bad. because saving the world always comes before their own personal desires and happiness. so they keep putting it off until it's too late, until there's no time left. by s15 they're both feeling desperate. it's the end. they both feel they need to say something. dean tries in The Trap. cas finally does in Despair. and then there's just no time left. it's over. they never got to have it. (YET. because their story ain't over!)

anyways, i'm multitudes girlie and can enjoy many different interpretations, esp in fics, but this is my main destiel + feelings interpretation for when i'm watching the show and engaging with canon.

TLDR: they both start Feeling things for each other immediately. dean realizes these feelings are romantic love and puts that name to them first around late s6/s7. dean Accepts these feeling around s8. while cas has his realization that these intense feelings are romantic love around s9. and accepts them at some point between s10 - 12ish.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING SAM WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Sam is a complete gentleman. Once you capture his attention, it will be completely fixed on you and he will never even look around at any woman other than you.

That being said, getting his attention is very difficult. He was polite and kind to everyone, so you thought that he didn't want you particularly.

But he did. He liked you more than anyone else, and soon, asked you out.

Sam is the sweetest boyfriend, he'll try his best to know what you like and don't like so that he can make sure that he never makes you uncomfortable.

Hugs and cuddles. He loves it when you keep your head on his shoulder while he's doing research or reading a book. He pretends like he doesn't need affection but deep down, you know he does.

Everyone around Sam treats him like he's a baby, so in the beginning, when you had done that too, Sam had got angry. Very angry.

But as time passed, you saw how talented and capable Sam is, and learned to not underestimate him. Sam fell a bit more in love with you because of that.

Sam is constantly worried about others, including Dean and Bobby, looking at him like he was a freak, like he was inhuman. But you never looked at him like that. For you, he was just Sam. Your Sam.

He takes great pride in the fact that he's tall, and teases you about your height more often than not. You try to tease him back and it eventually ends up in a makeout session.

Sam treats you with great care, but he doesn't underestimate you. He loves and cherishes you while being aware of how strong you are.

He will always make sure that you get enough rest and food. If you're ever upset, he'll try to talk to you and coax the problem out of you. In the sweetest, gentlest way possible.

Whenever he and Dean argue, he always comes to you and talks to you about how he disagrees with most of his family values, and you listen to him patiently, just glad that he doesn't shut himself off like his brother and actually talks about his feelings.

Sam's love language is words of affirmation. He needs to be told how good and kind he is, relying on healthy communication more than anything else. In return, he constantly praises you, showering you with love and appreciation.

Contrary to what most people might believe, Sam is not a boring person. He has different ideas of fun, and though he's not the most joyous or exuberant person around, he's fun to be with. He will make sure that you never get bored in his presence.

That being said, he does get insecure that you might leave him for someone better, someone louder, more enthusiastic, but you convince him with both words and actions that he's the one for you, and you wouldn't even think of leaving him.

He's not the only one who gets insecure, though. Being extraordinarily handsome and cute, many girls and even a couple of guys flirt with him on multiple occasions, even when you're right beside him.

But Sam makes sure to let the world know that he's yours. Many times, to get the point across, he'll kiss you in front of the lot to let them know that you're together.

Sam wants to quit hunting and start a family with you, a quiet, white-fence life, and since it's with him, so do you.

You and Sam are endgame, and both of you are going to make sure that you two stay with each other, forever.

[fatecantstopme]

Picture Myself Happy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Follows the story line of episodes 17-21 of season 5. Lisa doesn't exist, instead it's (Y/N).

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F and M receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), face sitting, light dirty talk.

"Dean? You okay?" you asked softly.

The look he gave you more than answered your question, but he responded anyway. "I'm about as far from okay as I possibly can be."

"I think we all are."

Dean shook his head. "My decisions have an impact on the entire world, (Y/N)--the world! And I'm sitting here denying fate. Where's that gotten me?"

"What are you trying to say?" you asked softly.

He buried his head in his hands. "I don't know...It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

Dean looked back up at you, face full of pain. You were certain he was going to say more, but his reply was cut off by Sam's voice calling his name.

"We've got an insane amount of demon omens in some tiny ass town in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota."

"Great," Dean mumbled as he stood up, face once again an impenetrable mask. "Guess we should get rolling."

You stood up too, but Dean cut you a look and shook his head. "Not happening."

"Dean, come on. I'm more than ready."

"Absolutely not. You almost died not that long ago. You need to rest."

"I've been resting for weeks. I feel fine," you insisted.

"Maybe she's right, Dean," Sam cut in. "We could really use the help."

"I'm the oldest and I say it ain't happening--got it?"

"Actually, I'm the oldest," Bobby quipped as he wheeled into the room. "Now, what exactly are we fighting about?"

"(Y/N) thinks she's ready to hunt again," Dean answered.

"Because I am."

Bobby's expression softened as he looked at you. "As much as I hate to say it, I think you should sit this one out (Y/N/N). Besides, I could really use your help here. You're better at research than either of these knuckleheads."

You were about to protest, but decided against it when you saw the worry in Bobby's eyes. He'd always been good to you and you owed him your life--you didn't wanna worry him more than you needed to. "Alright, alright. I'll sit this one out."

Dean nodded, seemingly pleased. "I'll call you when we get there--let you know we're safe."

You sighed, but nodded your agreement. You hated watching the boys leave to go on a hunt on their own--especially these days. End of the world and all that.

You watched in silence as Sam and Dean gathered their minimal belongings and piled into the Impala. You waved goodbye before coming back inside, expression clouded with a variety of inexpressible emotions.

The last two years had been a whirlwind for all of you--drawing all of you closer together. You cared very deeply for the Winchester boys and for Bobby, and they cared for you.

You were the same age as Sam, so the two of you hit it off with ease, but the elder Winchester was a little less trusting. The fact that Bobby trusted you meant a hell of a lot to Dean and went a long way in getting him to trust you enough to help on a couple hunts. You were a great hunter and before long, the three of you were almost inseparable.

You counted all three men as family and you knew they felt the same way about you, although you wished Dean's emotions aligned with your own. You weren't sure exactly when it happened, but you realized your feelings had changed one day during a particularly brutal hunt where you almost lost Dean. Somehow, in the midst of the shitstorm that was your lives, you'd managed to fall in love with the most emotionally unavailable man alive.

To make matters worse, you could never tell him for fear of damaging the little family unit you'd created for yourself. Instead, you stood on the sidelines, watching him flirt with every woman with legs and take more of them to bed than you'd cared to count. It made your chest ache, but you hid it well--even from Sam.

Loving Dean Winchester had never been a part of your plans, but you couldn't stop it from happening anymore than you could turn those feelings off now. Every time he walked out the door, you were terrified it would be the last time you would ever see him. You knew he was strong, but you also knew how self-destructive he could be.

He'd been different in recent months and you saw it more than anyone else did. For some reason, Dean chose to confide in you--perhaps because you listened quietly without judgment. You wanted nothing more than to see him find his way back to himself again and you hoped you were there to witness it.

"You gonna come back in or just stare off into the distance all night?" Bobby called to you from inside.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," you grumbled. "I was just lost in thought."

Bobby gave you a knowing look, which you chose to ignore. "Don't you have some research you need help with?"

He rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. He handed you a book and muttered, "Get to reading."

**********

"Dean's gone."

"What the hell do you mean he's gone?" you yelled into the phone.

"I mean he literally took off, (Y/N)!" Sam yelled back. "He killed the Whore of Babylon--which should have been impossible--and then he took off!"

"He...Sam, that's not possible."

"I was there--saw it with my own eyes."

"I, too, was there," Cas said in the background.

"Only a true servant of heaven can kill her," you said, bewildered.

"Exactly," Sam said, voice much softer than before.

"No," you whispered, disbelief lacing your words. "No--he wouldn't."

Sam understood your meaning. "I don't know anymore, (Y/N). I just don't know."

"We have to find him."

"I have a few ideas of where to find him, but I know he's going to come see you first."

"Why me?"

"To say goodbye," Sam said softly.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you could feel tears pressing against them. "I'll call you if he shows up here," you whispered.

Bobby rolled up behind you as you hung up the phone. "What's wrong?"

"I think Dean's going to say yes to Michael."

Bobby's expression perfectly matched the way you were feeling. A mixture of horror, disbelief, pain, and unbridled terror.

There wasn't much more to say after that--you were both just left to wait. There was nothing left for you to do but wait and see if he'd come home.

**********

The next day, there was a quiet knock on Bobby's front door. It was early in the morning and the older man was sound asleep in the middle of a pile of books on his desk.

You went to the door and peered out to find Dean's face looking back at you. You tugged open the door with more force than you'd intended to and stepped out onto the porch.

"Where have you been?" you snapped. "We were so worried."

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)--I should have called."

"Yes, you should have."

"I--uh, well I can't stay long, but I wanted to come see you."

"Dean, please tell me you're not going to do anything stupid."

He smiled weakly. "Now when have I ever done anything stupid?"

You didn't acknowledge his teasing like you normally would--too worried about the truth hidden behind his sarcasm. "You can't say yes," you whispered.

He gave you a pained smile. "I don't really have a choice, (Y/N/N)."

"Of course you have a choice, Dean! We always have a choice."

"If I don't--the whole freaking world burns! Do you have any idea what it's like to carry that weight on your shoulders?"

You shook your head. "I can't imagine the burden--nor can I imagine losing you to some asshole with wings."

He chuckled softly at that. "None of this matters right now--this isn't what I came here to say."

"Then what did you come here to say?"

He stepped forward and took your hand in his. You were surprised by the gesture, but you didn't pull away.

"You know, our lives are messed up. They're complicated and full of pain and darkness and death. There's not much happiness in our lives--especially not before you came into mine."

Tears filled your eyes as you listened to his words.

"When I picture myself happy, it's with you," he whispered. "I just wanted you to know that."

You inhaled sharply and the tears began to flow freely. "Dean, don't--"

He brushed his lips against your forehead, silencing your pleas.

"Don't worry, (Y/N/N). You'll be fine--I'll make sure of it. They're not getting what they want from me without meeting some conditions first."

"Dean, please don't do this. Just come inside and we can talk about it," you begged.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said softly. "I have to."

As you opened your mouth to respond, Castiel appeared directly behind Dean. You knew there was a possibility he would never forgive you for this, but you couldn't let him say yes. "I'm sorry too."

He looked confused for a moment until he heard Cas's voice from behind him. "Hello Dean." As soon as the hunter turned around, Cas used his grace to knock him unconscious.

Cas looked up at you with a surprising amount of sorrow on his face. "I will carry him inside."

You watched as the angel picked up the much larger man and walked towards the door.

"Did Bobby call you?"

"He overheard at least part of your conversation--enough to know Dean was here."

You nodded and followed him inside. "Good," you whispered.

**********

"Out of all people, I thought you would understand," Dean growled at you.

"You know what? I do understand! I understand your desire to self-destruct at every turn! I see the pain and the guilt and the utter emptiness inside you every time I look into your eyes, so don't you think for a second I don't understand."

He was taken aback by the anger in your voice--he wasn't used to you yelling at him with such intensity.

"It's for the greater good!"

"Screw the greater good, Dean! What happened to stopping the devil and saving the world, huh?"

"This is the only way!" he roared.

"I refuse to believe that," you said in a much more mannered tone. "I can't believe that...if I do, then it means everything we've done has been for nothing."

His expression softened. "No, (Y/N), wait--that's not--"

You held up your hand to stop him from talking. "I can't do this."

You walked away, leaving Dean alone in the panic room to stew with his thoughts.

"He still being an ass?" Bobby asked when you came back upstairs.

"Maybe you'll have better luck," you say to Cas. Both you and Sam had struck out.

"I will try." Instead of taking the stairs like a normal person, Cas zapped himself downstairs and stepped towards the panic room.

You had gone upstairs to get something from your room when you heard Sam yell your name. You came racing down the stairs, only to find the younger Winchester looking upset.

"Where's Cas?"

"Zapped to Oz," Sam fumed. "Dean's gone too."

"Great," you mumbled sarcastically. "Go find him. We'll watch Adam."

You were sitting in a chair, watching Adam sleep--in the least creepy way possible. You felt bad for the kid--it was a shitty life to be dragged into, especially after he was already in heaven.

Just as these thoughts were crossing your mind, Adam disappeared right before your eyes. You blinked a couple times, but the cot remained empty. "Bobby!"

**********

"What the hell do you mean he's gone?" Sam snapped at you.

"As I said before, he literally disappeared," you snapped back.

"Probably Zachariah," Castiel said as he appeared, holding a beaten Dean against his side.

"Dean!" you gasped. "What happened to him?"

"I did," Cas answered.

You were surprised, but you understood the angel's anger. After all, he'd believed in the Winchesters--in Dean--so vehemently that he rebelled against heaven--against everything he'd ever believed.

Cas tossed Dean's body onto the now-empty cot while you gathered some first aid supplies. You began to clean him up, listening wordlessly to the discussion happening around you.

"I think Dean should come," Sam said suddenly.

"Are you insane?" Bobby exclaimed.

"That is a terrible plan," Cas agreed.

Sam looked over at you for input, hoping you would be on his side. "What makes you think that's a good idea?" you asked gently.

"I have to believe he'll do the right thing."

You looked down at the still-unconscious man and sighed. He was the bravest and most loyal man you knew, but you also knew he could be stubborn and self-righteous to the point of aggravation. However, you believed in him too--maybe not as much as Sam, but it was there.

"I think it's highly likely he'll walk in there and say yes without a second thought--especially if it means saving you and Adam," you said honestly. "But I have to believe that in the moment, when it really matters, he'll do the right thing."

Sam gave you a small smile and a nod of gratitude.

"Now until then, could someone please move him down to the panic room?" you asked.

After Sam had talked to Dean and told him the plan, the two of them came upstairs to prepare to leave.

"Sam mentioned you agreed with him," Dean said softly, so only you could hear.

"There's no one I believe in more than you, Dean Winchester," you admitted. "You'll do the right thing."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you," you said simply.

He shook his head. "I'm gonna say yes, you know."

"I'm sure you will," you murmured. "But in that moment--the moments before you decide--I want you to remember one thing."

He waited breathlessly for your next words.

"Only you get to decide your destiny."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. Out of all the things he'd expected you to say, that hadn't been on his list. "(Y/N), I--"

"Time to go, Dean," Cas interrupted.

You offered him a gentle smile. "Go--and remember what I said."

Sam, Dean, and Cas disappeared before your eyes and you felt the familiar terror wash over you. This time was so much worse than all the others--this time you really did believe he might not come home.

**********

"Hey (Y/N/N)," Dean said softly as you opened the front door. "Did you miss us?"

The brightest smile he'd ever seen lit up your face and you jumped into his arms. "Dean..." you murmured against his shoulder.

He held you tightly before gently setting you back down on the ground. You gave Sam a hug before the smile fell from your pretty face. "Cas? Adam?"

Sam just shook his head and you sighed sadly. "Well come in. Bobby will be glad to see you both."

The boys explained what had transpired in California as you and Bobby listened quietly. You were glad Dean hadn't really said yes to Michael. You couldn't help but stare at him more than usual, eyes seeking some kind of change in him.

You waited until a lull in the conversation to ask the question that had been eating at you. "So why didn't you say yes?"

Three sets of eyes fell on you, but the only ones you cared about were the mossy green ones.

"Sammy believed in me, even when I didn't deserve it--even when I didn't have the same faith in him. He was stupid enough to take me with him because of that faith...I couldn't let him down," Dean answered honestly. "And, well--I remembered what you said."

You offered him a small smile. "Well I'm glad you did."

Dean held up his beer in a mock 'cheers'. "Screw destiny. I think it's high past time we make our own."

"I can get behind that," Sam agreed.

"That'll work for me," you murmured.

"Well not to put a damper on our middle-finger-to-destiny party, but we still don't have a good plan to defeat Lucifer," Bobby chimed in.

"Buzz kill, Bobby," Dean grumbled.

"We'll figure something out. Somehow, we always do," you added.

**********

You were standing in Bobby's living room trying to find a specific book in the overwhelming piles stacked everywhere, when your phone started to ring.

You answered it without looking at the caller ID. "(Y/L/N)."

"Uhh, am I in trouble? It's Dean."

"Oh shit," you said quickly. "No, nothing like that. I just didn't look at the screen before I answered. What's up?"

"We hit some sort of freak storm coming back, so we're staying the night at a motel we happened to pass. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry."

You smiled even though he couldn't see you. "I appreciate the heads-up. Both of you stay safe and enjoy a nice night off."

"Thanks, (Y/N/N). You too."

It wasn't until Sam and Dean returned from the trip the next day that you learned of the events that had transpired the night before. Several old Pagan gods had gathered at the motel to discuss the end of the world and of course Sam and Dean just happened to be there too.

Apparently the intent was to use the boys as bait to lure Lucifer to the hotel and kill him--at least until Gabriel showed up and told everyone how terrible of an idea it was. Unfortunately, Lucifer had already been summoned by one of the gods and he ended up killing most of the other gods, as well as his brother Gabriel.

In positive news, Gabriel had given Sam and Dean the information needed to stop this whole showdown between Lucifer and Michael. Essentially, they needed all four Horsemen's rings in order to open Lucifer's cage and throw him back into it.

"Small problem with that plan," Bobby stated as the boys finished their explanation. "We only have two rings and we have exactly zero idea where Pestilence or Death is."

"You always manage to find the silver lining, Bobby," Dean said sarcastically.

"He is right though," you said gently. "And it's technically not the only problem. Even if we magically find the other two rings, we still have one very large problem. How the hell do we trick the devil back into the cage?"

"Shit," Dean mumbled. "I hadn't exactly thought that far ahead."

"That's why you have me."

"I guess (Y/N) and I will work on a way to trick the devil, while the two of you look for Pestilence," Bobby stated with a tone of finality.

**********

"This is an absolutely terrible idea," you said angrily. "Out of all the harebrained schemes you idiots have come up with over the years, this one takes the cake. Not only is he a demon, but he screwed us once already. Do you really think working with him is a good idea?"

Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. "I don't like it anymore than you do, (Y/N/N), but he's the only lead we have."

"Besides, I'm completely trustworthy," Crowley commented as he appeared in Bobby's kitchen. "Well, at least as long as our interests are aligned."

"Fine, but the two of you aren't going alone with him," you said firmly.

"(Y/N), we'll be fine. You should stay here with Bobby."

"I don't need a damn babysitter, Dean," Bobby snapped. "(Y/N)'s better off with the two of you idjits--at least she'll make sure you don't come home dead."

You gave Dean a mirthless smirk and he grumbled in annoyance. "Fine."

"Nice digs," you said sarcastically as Crowley led you to the ramshackle house he'd been staying in.

"No need to be rude," he said in annoyance.

"Okay, what's the plan?" Sam asked.

"The plan, Moose, is for you and the girl to stay here, while Dean and I go to get the Horsemen's stable boy."

"Absolutely not!" you and Sam yelled at the same time.

"I'm not letting my brother go alone with you," Sam added.

"And I'm not letting you come with me," Crowley snapped back. "First of all, you keep trying to kill me, and secondly, I don't like you."

"Fair enough, but why do I have to stay behind?" you asked.

"Someone has to make sure little Sammy here doesn't do anything stupid."

Sam lunged for Crowley again, but you stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his assault. "Cool it, Sam."

Dean sighed, clearly not pleased with the whole situation, but you could see the resignation on his face. You knew what he was going to say before the words even came out of his mouth. "I'll go with Crowley. You two stay here."

"Dean--" you began.

"I'll be fine, (Y/N)."

It was your turn to sigh and nod in quiet acceptance. You looked at Crowley. "If he's not back in one piece, I will hunt you down and rip your heart out."

Crowley threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Understood."

You and Sam watched the two other men walk out the door, concern etched onto both of your faces.

"I don't like this," Sam muttered.

"Well that makes two of us."

"What did you miss about 'one piece'?" you snapped at Crowley when you saw the blood and bruises on Dean's face and torso.

"He's alive. Besides, I had nothing to do with it."

The look Dean gave him said otherwise.

"Technically," Crowley clarified.

You sighed. "You okay?" you asked Dean softly.

"It hurts, but I'll be fine."

Sam started to enter the room where Crowley and Dean had stashed the stable boy (aka Brady), but his entrance was blocked by Crowley.

"What are you doing?" Sam growled.

"Stopping you from mucking this up and ruining any chance we have at finding Pestilence."

"What's he talking about?" you asked.

"Sam--" Dean started.

"Get out of my way," Sam snapped at Crowley.

The demon grumbled, but stepped aside, allowing Sam to pass.

"Sam, just wait a minute," Dean called after him.

The next twenty minutes was a blur of trying to prevent Sam from killing Brady before you could get the information you needed, Crowley going and murdering a bunch of demons, and all of you being attacked by a damn hellhound.

As the five of you raced away from the hellhound fight, you muttered lowly, "Sometimes I really hate this job."

"Tell me about it," Dean agreed.

**********

"Why exactly do I need to sit this one out?" you asked in annoyance.

"Because," Dean started as he threw another weapon into his bag. "I don't like the idea of you going up against a Horseman, okay? It's dangerous."

"Everything we do is dangerous, Dean," you countered.

He sighed. "This is different."

"For the record, I don't like the idea of the two of you going up against Pestilence either--especially without backup."

Dean threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slammed it shut. "This whole mess is our fault, which makes it our problem to solve. I've never wanted to involve you in this hell."

"I know, Dean," you said softly. "But like it or not, I'm involved."

He closed his eyes briefly. "Just--stay here with Bobby, please. For me."

His voice was as close to begging as Dean Winchester ever got, so you sighed deeply and nodded, biting the inside of your lip to keep from saying anything else.

Dean pulled you into a tight hug, holding you a little longer than would be typical of a friendly hug. You tried not to notice or read into it--after all, just because Dean had told you he'd pictured himself happy with you didn't mean he wanted to be with you. He hadn't brought it up since, but you supposed there really hadn't been time.

"Be safe," you whispered as he pulled away.

"I always am."

You knew he was lying, but there was nothing you could do about it. Instead, you gave Sam a hug before watching them climb into the Impala and pull away.

When you walked back into the house, Bobby sensed your mood immediately. "You alright, kid?"

"I just don't like the idea of them going after Pestilence alone."

"I know you care about them, but they're tough boys, (Y/N). They'll be alright."

You gave Bobby a sad look. "I think we both know I care too much."

The older man sighed and nodded. "I don't think you can care too much," he said gently.

You understood what he meant, but you were too worried to respond. This was the reason why hunters didn't have families--love was a weakness that would only cause you more pain in the end.

**********

"No, no, no. Absolutely not."

"If it's the only way--" Bobby tried.

"I said no," you growled.

"Then we might as well accept defeat now," Crowley said. "Without the spell, we'll never find Death in time. Without Death's ring, we can't put Lucifer back in his cage, and the end of the world is back on."

"I'm not letting you sacrifice your soul, Bobby!"

"I'll give it back," Crowley insisted. "It's a temporary loan."

"You're a demon, Crowley," you deadpanned. "Trusting you would be insanity."

"I don't see another option," Bobby said quietly.

"The only other option I can see," Crowley mused, "is using (Y/N)'s soul."

"Over my dead body," Bobby seethed.

"If I won't let Bobby do it, why the hell would I give you mine?"

"I didn't think you would. I was simply offering up the only other option."

"(Y/N)..." Bobby said gently.

"I don't like this," you murmured.

"I know. I don't like it either, but it's our best shot."

You closed your eyes. "It's your soul, so it's your choice."

Bobby looked up at Crowley and nodded. "I'll do it."

When the boys returned looking a little worse for the wear, but alive, you were relieved to see them. Especially since they had Cas in tow.

You hugged the angel, eyes scanning over him for any obvious injuries before looking at Dean and Sam. "All three of you look like hell."

"It has not been a fun day," Castiel commented.

You patted his arm gently. "I'd imagine not."

"We got the ring, though," Dean stated. "So that's really all that matters."

"We, uhh--well we managed to find Death's location while you were gone," you said, hoping they wouldn't notice the worried look in your eyes.

"How?" Sam asked.

"With my help," Crowley stated. "And some assistance from Bobby, of course."

There was something in Crowley's tone that made Dean uncomfortable. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded, addressing Bobby.

"It's not a big deal," Bobby said.

"It only cost him his soul," you said lowly, worry lacing your words.

"What? Bobby, come on! You sold your soul?" Dean yelled.

"It's my damn soul, boy!"

"Technically it's on loan. I fully intend to give it back," Crowley interjected.

"Then give it back!" Dean snapped.

"I will, once Lucifer's back in his cage and we all go back to hating each other."

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled.

You stepped in, grabbing Dean's arm to hold him back. "It was Bobby's choice, Dean. We needed the information and it was going to be his soul or mine."

Dean's expression sobered. He didn't want Bobby's soul to be at risk, but he was beyond terrified of losing you. It would kill him if your soul was damned to hell. "If you don't return it, so help me god--"

"I already threatened him," you said softly. "Repeatedly."

"With torture, I might add," Crowley put in.

Dean almost looked proud. "Good."

"Now that's all settled," Crowley began. "We'd better get to Chicago before the storm of the century wipes the Windy City off the map."

**********

Sam pulled you and Dean outside to chat before preparing for the next mission. "I wanted to talk to the two of you alone."

"Is everything okay?" you asked softly.

"I was thinking about what you said--about getting Lucifer into the cage," Sam responded. "And I think I have a plan that will work."

"Okay, let's hear it," Dean prodded.

"So I already talked it over with Bobby and he was telling me how, when he was possessed, he managed to regain control of himself long enough to keep from killing Dean and stab himself--"

"I can see where you're going with this, and I don't like it," you interjected.

Sam ignored your interruption. "I think I can do the same with Lucifer."

"I'm sorry--what?" Dean exclaimed. "Are you suggesting saying yes to Lucifer?"

"Just long enough to get him into the cage," Sam admitted. "I don't see any other options."

"Absolutely not," Dean snapped. "No way--no way in hell."

"Sam," you said calmly, "this is Lucifer! Not just some low level demon. The amount of sheer force of will you'd need to overcome him is--well it's damn near impossible."

"I know that," Sam said softly. "But I think it's worth a try."

Dean was about to say something else when Crowley appeared with a newspaper in his hand. "Read the headline."

Sam took the paper and began to read, "Swine Flu Vaccines to be Shipped Nationwide by Niveus."

The three of you looked perplexed, causing Crowley to groan. "Niveus? Ring a bell, anyone?"

"Wait," you began, "Isn't that the company Brady worked for?"

Crowley nodded. "At least one of you has a brain. Brady was the senior VP of distribution, to be specific."

"Oh fuck," you muttered.

"Please don't tell me--" Dean started.

"Pestilence had a bigger plan. Swine flu was just the beginning," Sam stated.

"The vaccine is phase two," you whispered.

"Exactly," Crowley added. "And it's full of Croatoan Virus."

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

"You've gotta admit, it's an effective way to infect more than half the country all at once," Sam said quietly.

"We have to stop the distribution," you announced. "When do the trucks roll out?"

"Tomorrow," Crowley answered.

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. "So all we have to do is save Chicago, take Death's ring, and stop the mass spreading of the Croatian Virus to the entire U.S....all in one day."

You sighed deeply. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's us."

Dean looked over at you, a proud smile on his face. "That's my girl."

You blushed and looked away, unaccustomed to hearing him call you 'his girl'. Sure, he called you 'sweetheart', but he called most women that. This felt different, and you weren't sure how you felt about it.

"Let's go save the world," Sam muttered.

**********

You hadn't wanted to separate from Dean, but you knew Sam, Cas, and Bobby would likely need your help more than Dean and Crowley did. You still didn't trust Crowley and you hated the idea of leaving him alone with Dean, especially when they were facing an apocalyptic storm and going up against one of the oldest creatures in creation--Death himself.

"You just gonna sit there?" Crowley asked Bobby, drawing you out of your thoughts.

"No, I'm gonna river dance," Bobby quipped back.

"I suppose if you wanna impress the ladies," he teased. "You know, you can really make these contracts work in your favor, for instance adding your legs as part of the deal."

Everyone stared at Bobby in silence as he slowly began to move his legs for the first time in what felt like eternity. You gasped in shock when he stood up to his full height and took a step forward.

The joy was short-lived, given the tasks you were about to complete. There were a couple hugs before everyone sobered up and finished preparing to leave.

You were about to get into the van with Cas, Bobby, and Sam, when Dean approached you and called your name.

"Dean? You okay?" you asked.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering against your cheek for longer than it should have. "Just--just be careful, (Y/N/N). Please."

You smiled gently and nodded. "You too, Dean."

He pulled you into a tight hug, placing his lips into your hair, gently kissing the top of your head. "I can't lose you," he murmured so softly you almost didn't hear.

When he finally let you go, your eyes had begun to water--emotions bubbling up inside of you despite your best efforts to conceal them. "Come back to me," you choked out.

He gave you a sad smile as he stepped away. You saw him close his eyes as he swallowed thickly, clearly experiencing some complicated emotions of his own.

"Dean!" Crowley yelled. "Let's get a move on."

Dean groaned and his normal impassive mask slid back into place. "I'm coming, quit your whining." He gave you one last look before walking away from you.

Your heart ached in your chest, an overwhelming feeling of fear embedding itself in your bones. You watched him get into the driver's seat of the Impala before you managed to shake yourself out of whatever trance you were in and get into the van with the others.

"You good, (Y/N)? Bobby asked as you shut the door.

"All good," you lied. "Let's roll."

**********

"Have I mentioned how much I hate Croatoan Virus?" you grumbled as you shot yet another infected person who was charging your way.

"Maybe once or twice," Sam shot back.

"We should have known they would infect people before we got here," Bobby commented.

"Yeah, but at least we've stopped the shipment. Now we just gotta kill some Croats," you said with a smirk as you shot another one.

You and Sam traveled farther into the warehouse, following the sounds of people yelling for help. Cas and Bobby stayed up front to make sure no Croats escaped.

You were certain you had to be nearing the last of the infected people, but as you rounded a corner, one got the jump on you, tackling you to the ground. You fought with him, desperately trying to get him off of you so you could shoot him, but he sent your gun flying, leaving you defenseless.

You were starting to lose the battle, the Croat's teeth close to sinking into your flesh, when you heard a yell from behind you. The Croat looked up just in time to see Sam pull the trigger, bringing the terrifying moment to an end.

He helped you up and you retrieved your gun. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for the save."

He smiled. "Any time."

The two of you started moving back towards the front of the building. You heard a sound down one of the aisles and you started in that direction. You nodded for Sam to get back to Bobby and Cas, confident you could handle the situation on your own.

You cleared the aisle, but didn't find anything. You started heading back when you heard Sam yell and you started running. You arrived just in time to see Castiel shooting a Croat in the head to save Sam.

He looked slightly pleased with himself, gazing down at the sawed off in his hands. "These things can be useful."

You chuckled and Bobby just shook his head.

Sam got up and clapped Cas on the shoulder, a silent thank you for saving him. "Alright, let's blow some stuff up," he said with a grin.

"This has always been my favorite part of the plan," you declared with a grin of your own.

When the four of you returned to Bobby's, you were pleased to learn Dean and Crowley's mission had also been a success. Not only had they saved Chicago, but Dean had managed to secure Death's ring and learn how to use the rings.

"How old do we think Death is, exactly?" you asked.

"He told me he was as old as God...maybe older, but neither of them could remember," Dean responded.

"Holy shit..."

"Yeah. He didn't exactly strike me as the forgiving type, so I doubt he'll appreciate me lying to him," Dean commented.

"You lied to Death? About what?"

"I told him I was okay with Sam saying yes to Lucifer."

You sighed quietly, not wanting to admit which side you fell on in this particular argument.

Thankfully, Bobby did have something to add. "You and I have always treated Sam like he's a kid, despite the fact that he's one of the toughest people I know. He's been running into burning buildings since he was what, 12?"

"Pretty much," Dean replied.

"I saw him today, Dean. We both did," Bobby said, looking over at you. "He's not that little kid anymore. He's strong--stronger than any of us give him credit for. I think we should have a little more faith in his abilities."

Dean looked over at you, silently asking for your input. "I've always believed in Sam," you said honestly. "I'm not gonna stop now."

Dean nodded, a look of resigned acceptance crossing his features.

**********

You'd just gotten out of the shower when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. "Just a second!" you called.

You quickly threw on pajama shorts and an old faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt, before throwing open the door without checking to see who it was.

"Dean," you gasped in surprise.

"Hey," he murmured awkwardly. "I, uhh--I was hoping we could talk."

"Oh, umm, sure." You stepped aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Everything okay?" you asked worriedly.

"I'm just thinking about what's going to happen in just a couple days and I--I don't want to leave things unsaid."

"Dean, we don't have to--"

"I need to, (Y/N/N)," he interjected. "Just in case."

You didn't want to think about the very distinct possibility that one or both of you might not survive the coming fight. Your heart ached at the mere thought of losing him, and to your surprise he felt the same way.

"I don't know if we'll make it through this--all I know is I'm terrified of losing you," he admitted.

You shifted on your feet, unsure of what to say.

"I'm not used to being afraid," he whispered. "It's not a feeling I'm accustomed to experiencing and to be honest with you, I kinda hate it."

"You don't have to be afraid for me," you reassured him. "I'll be fine. You know I can take care of myself."

"In every other fight? I'd agree completely...but this isn't any other fight. This is Michael and Lucifer--it's the biggest fight of our lives."

"I know," you murmured. "But I have to believe that at the end of this, we'll all be okay."

He nodded, but you could see the emotions clouding his normally bright green eyes. "I wish I had that same faith."

You gave him a teary smile. You understood where he was coming from, especially given his past experiences.

"Any chance I can convince you to stay back?"

"There's no way that's happening, Dean. If you're facing two archangels, I'm coming with you."

He sighed. "I figured you'd say that." He exhaled deeply, clearly preparing himself to say something else. "Things have been so--intense--for the past few weeks and we haven't really had much of an opportunity to talk. We've been dancing around our feelings and I don't wanna keep doing that--I can't."

You swallowed thickly. "I don't know if I can..."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to say anything if you don't really mean it. You're scared and honestly, so am I. This might be the end, Dean--the end of everything. I just don't want you to say something you think I wanna hear because we might die, or something you don't really feel just because you don't wanna be alone for the end...I can't handle that."

Dean stood up and reached out to you. You'd finally let the tears fall during your speech, and he couldn't stand to see you cry. He reached up slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him. When you didn't, he cupped your face in his hands, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"I don't want you to ever think I'm choosing you because of some misguided desire to not be alone. I meant what I said, sweetheart--you're the only person I can imagine myself being happy with. It's always been you--I've just been too scared to tell you."

You sniffled softly as he finished wiping the last of your tears. "So why now?"

He continued to gently rub his thumbs on your cheeks, almost afraid to let go of you--as if you would simply disappear. "Because I'm tired of pretending I'm not in love with you. If this really is the end, I don't wanna go out without telling you the truth. If you don't feel the same, I understand, but I needed to--"

You leaned in to press your lips gently against his, silencing the rest of his sentence. He returned your kiss, one hand sliding into your hair to pull you closer to him.

You pulled away from him to suck in some air, leaning your forehead against his as you caught your breath.

"So does that mean you might feel the same?" Dean murmured softly.

You laughed lightly. "Maybe just a little bit."

He grinned as he slipped his arms around your soft waist and pulled you closer. "Just a little?" he teased.

You giggled as his fingers gently tickled your sides. "Or a lot."

"Yeah?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah...there's a strong possibility I feel exactly the same as you."

"Oh, baby, I don't think that's possible."

You looked at him in confusion.

"I love you more than anything--I don't even have words to express how I feel about you. 'Love' just doesn't cut it."

You practically melted in his arms, a warm, teary smile gracing your face. "I don't think I can compare to that, but I do love you, Dean--so much."

Dean was one of the most deeply emotional people you'd ever known and the way he loved was no exception. He was incredibly passionate and he loved with a kind of fierceness that almost frightened you. But at the same time, you felt incredibly honored to be loved by such an amazing man--a man who was loyal, brave, strong, and sensitive (even if he would deny it).

Dean kissed you deeply, holding your body tightly against his own. You could feel his arousal stirring against your stomach and you moaned softly.

"I could kiss you all night," he whispered against your lips.

"Why don't you then?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, a small smirk playing on his lips. "How would you feel if I kissed every square inch of your body instead of just your lips?"

You inhaled sharply, his words sending a shock wave of need straight to your core. "Please," you begged softly.

"Oh baby, you're in for a treat." He grabbed you and spun around, tossing you onto the soft bed.

It didn't take long for you both to be completely naked, Dean's head between your legs, bringing you closer to blissful release with each passing moment.

Every movement of his lips and tongue had you moaning in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his hair, nails scrapping against his scalp as he continued to drive you wild.

When your orgasm finally hit, your hips began to buck wildly, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He continued lapping up your juices and teasing your clit until you dragged him away, whimpers of sensitivity leaving your lips.

He breathed heavily as he hovered over you, licking his lips in contentment. "I didn't wanna stop."

You smiled. "I could tell."

"So I can go back down and finish--" he started moving lower and you grabbed him to keep him in place.

"No!" you said, laughter filling your voice. "I'm a little too sensitive for that right now, Dean."

He groaned in displeasure. "Fine," he mumbled. "Later then."

He leaned down to kiss you and you giggled softly against his lips. His antics always made you smile, so you weren't surprised to find the experience continued in the bedroom.

As he deepened the kiss, you felt his cock brush against your core, a sharp hiss leaving your lips at the contact.

"Sorry, baby," he murmured.

"I'm not," you said lightly.

He looked down at you quizzically, but didn't have time to comment before he found himself lying on his back looking up at you.

You grinned down at him, clearly pleased with yourself.

"Whatcha doin' sweetheart?" he drawled.

"Taking what I want."

Your meaning was quickly made clear as you kissed slowly down his chest and abdomen, stopping only to make a soft sound of appreciation when you came upon his throbbing cock.

You wrapped your hand around it and licked slowly from the base to the tip, giving a flick of your tongue against it to collect the precum.

Dean moaned softly, green eyes watching you intently as you took his cock into your mouth, slowly lowering yourself down until you couldn't fit any more.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, hand reaching for your hair to tangle his fingers in it.

You hummed happily and began to move, bobbing your head up and down in a pleasurable rhythm. Your hand wrapped around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to ensure his entire member was receiving pleasure.

Dean's hips jerked slightly each time you made a noise or a particularly pleasurable motion, and his grip on your hair tightened considerably.

You made it very obvious you were enjoying yourself, which seemed to only increase his pleasure. You very gently caressed his balls, massaging them in your soft hand as you continued to suck his cock.

Dean's moans and curses had increased in both volume and frequency, signaling he was nearing his peak. You flicked your gaze up to look at his face, meeting his dark, lust-blown eyes.

You held eye contact as you continued your motions, soft moans vibrating against his cock.

"Holy fuck," he whispered. "Gonna cum, baby."

You hummed, signaling your desire for him to let go. You continued to hold his gaze, but you switched your focus to the head of his cock, using your hand to rub the rest.

Moments later, Dean came with a low groan of your name, hips stuttering upwards as you swallowed every drop he gave you.

Just as he'd done to you, you refused to stop until he literally pulled you off his cock, aftershocks shaking his body.

"That was incredible," he breathed.

You smiled down at him, appreciating the praise.

"I wanna taste you again," he begged softly.

Your eyes widened a bit, but you couldn't deny the ache in your core. You wanted to feel him inside you so badly, but you knew he'd need some time to work back up to it.

"I suppose you can have a little taste," you murmured teasingly.

You started to get off of him, but he grabbed you to hold you in place.

"Where ya going?"

"To lay down..."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Did I tell you to lay down?"

You inhaled sharply. "No..."

"Didn't think so, babe." He shifted so his head was flat against the mattress. "Come on up and sit on my face."

"I'm sorry--do what?"

He laughed softly. "Sit on my face."

"Umm...you sure?"

He lifted his head to look at you. "I've never been more certain."

You bit your lip and considered his words for a moment. You'd never sat on anyone's face, but you'd heard it was an enjoyable experience.

"Alright," you agreed, pulling yourself up to hover over his mouth.

"Lower, please," he said.

You lowered yourself down, but remained hovering.

"(Y/N)," he said harshly. "Sit."

You lowered yourself as much as you could without putting your full weight on him.

"For the love of god," he growled, tugging down on your hips and forcing you to actually sit.

You heard his groan and what sounded like a muffled "Fuck yes", before his tongue slipped between your folds and the assault began.

If you'd thought he was good with his mouth before, it was nothing compared to the incredible feelings you were currently experiencing. You had to press your hands against the wall to hold yourself upright and your thighs were pressed tightly around his head.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were loud enough to wake the neighbors, but you couldn't be bothered to care.

You could feel his tongue pressing into your channel while his nose bumped against your clit with every movement. The combination was amazing and your hips started to move on their own, seeking more friction to push you over the edge.

Dean's grip on your hips tightened and he started to move your hips more forcefully, letting you know it was okay to ride his face.

You took the hint and completely let go, allowing yourself to truly enjoy the experience. Dean's moans vibrated through your body, which only served to increase your pleasure.

Your thighs began to shake and your moans had turned to cries of his name as your hips made one final thrust before you fell apart. The orgasm that crashed through you was easily the most incredible one you'd ever experienced--the high both better and longer than ever before.

You lifted yourself off Dean's face as the pleasure became too much, but your legs were no longer able to support you, so you fell onto the bed beside him. You were both breathless, but Dean wasted no time in rolling over on top of you and pressing open mouthed kisses to your heated skin.

When you finally caught your breath, you murmured, "I've never felt that good in my life."

Dean smirked, pride evident on his face. "I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart."

You bit your lip and looked up into his handsome face. "Is that a promise?"

He groaned softly and his cock pressed against your core. You both inhaled sharply and he lowered his face down to kiss you deeply. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

"I hope not," you whispered back.

He smiled and placed another sweet kiss to your lips. "You ready?"

You nodded--you'd never been more ready in your life.

He gripped his cock and lined it up with your entrance, pressing in slowly to give you time to adjust.

You whimpered at the feeling, his cock stretching you in ways you didn't know you could be stretched.

"You okay, baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed. "Keep going."

He waited another moment before continuing to push forward. By the time he was fully seated inside you, you were both breathing heavily and a light sheen of sweat graced your face.

Dean pressed soft, sweet kisses all over your face as he waited for your breathing to normalize. "Let me know when you're ready," he murmured.

After a few more moments, you took a deep breath and said, "You can move now."

Dean's hips began to move slowly, his thrusts languid and gentle at first. As your grip on his cock tightened and the soft sounds you made washed over him, his pace began to increase.

"You're so goddamn tight, (Y/N/N)," he groaned softly. "So warm and wet--fucking perfect."

You pulled his face down to yours to kiss him passionately. "Feels so good, Dean," you moaned.

He knew he wasn't going to last very long...which wasn't common for him. You just felt so incredible and he knew he was going to lose control.

He'd be damned, however, if he came before pulling at least one more orgasm from your sweet body.

Dean grabbed your legs and folded them towards your chest, flexing your body almost in half. This position allowed him to get even deeper inside you and the head of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with each thrust.

"Dean!" you gasped in surprised pleasure. Not very many men had managed to find your g-spot, but Dean wasn't exactly most men.

You dug your nails into his biceps--the only part of him you could reach, and your moans turned into an unending song of pleasure.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't love every part of it. Every noise was like music to his ears--a soundtrack he could listen to forever. The sharp pain of your nails in his skin only heightened his pleasure and the look of pure bliss on your face was an image he wanted to sear onto his brain.

He was desperate to watch you come undone--to see your beautiful face in full view as you fell apart for him. He was certain it would be an image worthy of an art museum.

"You gonna cum for me baby?" he asked lowly.

You nodded rapidly, unable to form a verbal response.

"Can feel you squeezin' me so tight."

He sped up just a little more and a sharp gasp left your lips. He knew you were seconds away--and honestly, so was he.

"Need you to cum for me sweet girl," he begged. "Wanna feel it so bad."

His words sent you over the edge, your third orgasm of the night washing over you and throwing you into pure ecstasy.

Dean held back his own impending orgasm just long enough to ask, "Can I fill you up, baby?"

"Please!" you cried.

Dean came with a loud shout of your name, hot ropes of cum filling your pussy to the brim. His thrusts slowed as you both rode out your highs and his cock began to soften as he pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside you.

"That was--" you began.

"I know," he finished.

You turned to look at him and giggled softly. He grinned widely and let out a warm laugh along with you.

"Who woulda thought we'd end up here?" he asked.

"On the brink of the end of the world," you added.

"There's no one I'd rather be with," he admitted.

You rolled onto your side to face him completely. "Same here, Dean."

He offered you a small smile tinged with sadness. "I love you, (Y/N/N)...and if we die tomorrow, then at least you'll know how I feel about you."

You closed your eyes and sighed. "I love you too. But I want a life with you, so let's try to make it through tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled warmly. "Alright, sweetheart. I'd like that."

"Good," you whispered as you nestled in close to him, laying your head against his chest and sighing softly.

Dean wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he was afraid you would disappear if he let go. You fell asleep like that, one last moment of peace and contentment before the final battle.