#or dean can figure out a way to bring him back

[normaltothemax]

Last of Us (Show) Starters ❝ you keep your eyes on me. and don’t look anywhere else. ❞ (jason m&m)

Jason remembered dying the first time. Remembered what it felt like. The pain and the cold and the nothingness. He was strange mix of them, now, laying there, struggling to breathe on the cool, hard ground. Somewhere between feeling cold and feeling nothing at all, all that pain still lingering.

Those weren’t the worst parts about dying, though.

No, the worst part was the fear.

The fear of knowing it was all coming to an end, that he was going to die and it was going to hurt and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. That Dean couldn’t do anything to stop it. There wasn’t time. Jason was hurt far too badly, had lost far too much blood. It wouldn’t matter if Dean broke the sound barrier driving, Jason wouldn’t make the trip.

But it was okay, because this time, Jason wasn’t alone.

This time, someone had made in time.

This time, his dad was here with him.

His grip on Dean’s hand was weak, but he held on stubbornly, not willing to give up the contact if he could help it. “N-no—” Blood speckled his lips and chin as he coughed, the harsh sound tearing up his throat. “No deals,” he choked out. “N-no…no deals.” Jason didn’t want that. He didn’t want Dean throwing away his life for him. He didn’t want to be brought back if it would cost him the very best thing he had. “P-promise.”

Promise him, Dean.

He was fading fast, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean if he’d tried. Not that he would. Jason wanted that comfort, he wanted that feeling of safety, even if he knew it wasn’t real. Even though he knew it wouldn’t last.

But his eyelids were growing heavy. It didn’t hurt anymore—he remembered this, knew it was time—and he was so very tired. His eyes slipped closed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “S’okay.” It was okay. Dean was here. The last words he spoke were a mumbled, “Love you,” Jason needing Dean to know that, before he gave in and let the darkness take him.

@therebetterbepie (x)

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡

warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.

when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.

"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.

it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.

when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.

but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.

"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.

"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.

"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.

dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.

"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.

"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."

you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.

"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.

"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.

his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.

"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.

"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.

"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."

you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.

"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.

he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.

dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."

he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.

dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.

"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.

dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @https--roman, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite ִ ꒱

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying

→ a/n: kinktober 08

Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.

However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.

“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.

“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.

“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.

“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.

“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.

Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.

“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.

“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.

”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.

You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.

He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.

“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.

Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.

“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.

Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.

“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.

You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.

The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.

→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[shanastoryteller]

i know spn hates good writing and also sam, but the dumpster fire of s4 really could have been salvaged if they'd just played ruby and castiel straight

by which i mean

ruby should have been one of the good guys (honestly it feels like the writers changed their minds last second regarding her anyway)

castiel should have been the villain (which, let's be clear, he totally was)

the point of this is that it would force dean to confront his own bullshit and maybe figure himself out, which not only would have been good television but would have been satisfying to me, personally

sam's problem is that he wants there to be a good equal to every evil. that he believes goodness exists even where it doesn't, that he always wants to give things a chance, that he always has hope. they sound like good traits, up until they're used against him. they reach the station of angels are bad eventually, but it should have been more immediate and visceral, that there is no greater good here. sam should have had this knocked out of him, which would have shattered him in way, to lose this thing he's depended on his whole life, but it really would have hammered home that it's choices that really do matter, not circumstances

dean's problem is always that he sees monsters as monsters with no grey area, that sam always has to play his moral center the second anything becomes complicated. then he goes to hell, breaks, tortures innocents, and an angel yanks him out and tells him that he's a righteous man

dean desperately desperately wants this to be true

because it's sam who they had to look out for, sam who was destined to go darkside, sam with the demon blood

dean doesn't have that excuse

he's just a human man with a hunger for violence who never learned to curb his appetite. who was instead pushed to gorging himself on it, who is left broken and desperate and angry by what he did to save himself. his whole life, his whole self perception for thirty years, was about protecting innocents. then he betrays that in hell. do you think he kept count? how many innocents he destroyed against how many he saved? the day it equaled out, do you think he wished he could weep?

dean is so unbelievably messed up by hell. not the torture he endured, that's barely a blip, but the torture he inflicted is what haunts him

so he needs for sam to be the bad guy

he's using his powers, he's hanging out with demons, he's drinking demon blood. he's the monster. he's inhuman

(he's using his powers and hanging out with demons and drinking demon blood and still he's doing less harm than dean, still he's trying to save people. dean can't accept this, because he can't be the rotten one. he'll forgive sam anything, but never himself, so it has to be sam. because he can fix sam, he'll always love his brother, so if he's evil there's stil a path forward there. but if it's dean? if he's the one going evil? sam's left him before. why would he stay now? if dean is the one going darkside then he loses everything. himself. his brother. it has to be sam)

dean is projecting all his own shit onto sam because he can't deal with any of it, which is why he treats sam like shit, why he treats him in a way that he's never treated him before. it's how he treats himself. and sam has no idea what to do with this, is left reeling and hurt and broken himself by dean doing this to him. sam never thought dean would leave him to die in the panic room, because dean wouldn't, not the dean he's known his whole life, not the dean that loves him. not alone.

but dean would do that to himself. and since sam is his proxy for himself, it's what he does to sam, but sam doesn't know that so all he feels is the weight of betrayal and grief and rage

isn't it funny, almost? the demons brought sam back just as he was, exactly the same. the angels bring back dean but he's not the same. dean comes back wrong, comes back different. but no one wants to say that. to deal with it

having ruby be evil and castiel venerated justifies all of dean's spiraling, all of his punishment. he was right all along, sam was the problem, don't you see?

boring

ruby stays loyal to sam, a demon who chooses something different, who chooses the boy with the demon blood because there's something compelling about sam winchester, as tempting as the apple before eve, and ruby didn't get where she is by knowing better

(remember when sam pulled all the psychic kids together, acted as leader, and resisted azazel? there is a leader in sam, a compassion in him, that azazel had to cheat in order to beat. and if ruby can show him how to win against demons then-)

castiel let sam out of the panic room. he's following orders, because that's his job, and damn the consequences. this should have been seen as the act of betrayal and evil that it was, castiel proving he was never really on their side at all, never on the side of preventing harm. it also would have made his redemption arc mean something, it would have given castiel a lot more to work with if they'd had to really bring him back over

ruby realizes too late what killing lilith means. tries to stop sam, but now that she's here it's too late, kill or be killed. sam accepts that, is willing to die rather than start the apocalypse. but then dean is there, and he can't watch his brother die again, he just can't. so he kills lilith to save dean, when he would have been willing to die himself

ruby gets them out of there. they discover what castiel did, that he pushed forward the apocalypse rather than prevented it

this breaks dean. he finally snaps, but it's good, because everything he'd used to shore himself up before had been terrible and rotted and corrosive

a righteous man is not a good man. dean is forced to confront everything he's done in hell, and after he'd gotten back, everything he put sam through, how he left him in that panic room and almost killed him, how he's treated him for the past year. how it was a demon who tried to help in the end and an angel that damned them

and how sam saved him anyway, damn the consequences

we should have returned to what the show had been building up to from the beginning - that sam loves his brother enough to do terrible things and dean has no idea how to deal with that

so we've got sam and dean on the run with ruby, castiel's slower and much juicier redemption arc, and dean having to pick up the pieces of himself while sam tries to figure out how he gets them out this mess. and sam's guilt is justified here, his aching sense of responsibility, because this time he kills lilith knowing it'll free lucifer. he makes that choice, for dean. and he's determined to fix it

just. demon blood tainted sam and turncoat ruby trying to save the world. the angels trying to end it. all while dean finally accepts the crushing guilt of what he's done and starts to work through it, starts to work on becoming the brother sam lost, on once more being the steady thing sam can hold onto no matter what it takes, because sam choosing him reminds him of something he'd told himself he forgot

he doesn't want to be a righteous man, a torturer, a demon, a victim, a martyr

he just wants to be sam's brother. the one he looks up to, depends on, loves

he wants what he's always wanted

to feel worthy of his little brother's affection

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[willowsages-blog]

the charming man: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: demon Dean x innocent female reader

“It’s not going to fit.” You say warily.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Dean's sitting in front of you, hand lazily moving up and down. You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you forgetting you took my virginity like only a week ago?”

He smirks at that, hand movements speeding up slightly.

Dean has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different.

His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards.

He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning.

You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked.

He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” Dean grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Dean can feel you dripping onto his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes.

While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief.

You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you were so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Dean, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you.

And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply,

and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoo. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss Dean, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger, so it just barely brushes your clit, and Dean gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit.

You’re used to this, familiar with the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him.

He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him.

You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly.

You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still,

it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth.

He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back,

making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

Dean watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him.

He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan,

his head falling back when you slowly rise back up.

You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

, Dean, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down.

His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected,

trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in.

He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other.

You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Dean. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, is because he is. Even underneath you,

you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face,

by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before.

Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Dean. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to squirt harder than you ever have before,

your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

Dean keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeeze tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Baby,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Dean to falter, Cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you are getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge,” Dean promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Chances

Sam and Dean & nephilim!reader, Cas & nephilim!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Gabriel messes around and ends up creating a nephilim, and Cas is tasked with keeping the kid safe.

A/N: guys I finally finished a request! Hopefully the next one won’t take me so long, you guys have been so patient as I start up college again.

“I need you to do something for me.”

Gabriel’s appearance at the bunker a month after Angel radio went nuts over a nephilim’s creation was unexpected and unwanted, to say the least.

“From us?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the archangel. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who—“

“Not you, Winchesters. I’m talking to Castiel.”

Castiel looked up in surprise at this declaration.

“My help? And why would I—“

“The nephilim is mine. And she’s growing fast.”

“She?” Sam asked. Gabe offered him a half glance.

“Yes, she. I can feel it. And she’s going to be born any day now.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Castiel demanded.

“I can’t keep her safe,” Gabriel admitted after a moment’s hesitation, his features tightened. “If I get anywhere near her, there’s a line of enemies that will follow. I need her somewhere safe, and I can’t take her there.” Gabriel swallowed, glancing at the brothers before looking back at Castiel. “This is the safest place I could think of.” Before Dean could interrupt, Gabriel raised his voice and continued. “The warding will keep out most enemies, and it’s nearly undetectable to angels.”

“We can’t just house a nephilim!” Dean exclaimed. “Not happening. No way.”

“I have no other options, no one else to go to,” Gabriel pleaded. “She’s just a baby—“

“A baby with power,” Sam added. “And we don’t know how much power.”

“She’s innocent,” Gabriel added. “She’s just a baby, and she doesn’t deserve to get hunted down like this. There’s nowhere else she can go—it’s either the bunker, or she’s dead.”

This time, Gabriel’s argument was met with silence. Castiel was the first to break it.

“You want me to retrieve her, and bring her here.”

“It’s her only chance.” None of the boys had ever seen Gabriel look so humble—so vulnerable.

“I’ll do it.”

“Cas—“

“No, Dean,” Cas interrupted him. “I have to do this.”

“Let us come with you,” Sam spoke up.

“Sam!” Dean turned to his brother, thunderstruck.

“No,” Cas said. “I should go alone, it’s safer.”

“You shouldn’t be going at all!” Dean insisted. “We don’t know what—“

“This being deserves a chance,” Cas interrupted. “And I’m going to give it to her.”

…

Gabriel left quickly to go into hiding, and Cas left soon after. The address Gabriel gave him was only a few hours away, but when Cas got there he arrived to a surprise.

The mother—Cas had no idea who she was—was already dead. Cas was just beginning to panic when he heard crying, and he rounded the bed to see you—a little toddler, crying on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, hey it’s alright,” Cas soothed as he wrapped a nearby blanket around your shivering, unclothed body. “Hey, you’re safe now.” He had no idea how or why you were already a toddler, but he figured it didn’t matter—as long as he could get you safe.

You stopped crying as soon as you were in Cas’s arms, your big Y/E/C eyes blinking up at the angel.

“You’re going to be alright little one,” Cas said. “I promise.”

Considering the dead woman on the bed not three feet away, Cas felt that his promise was less than convincing, but you relaxed completely into him, your little arms wrapping around his neck and holding on tight.

Cas carried you out to his car—he wasn’t so sure about angel transportation with a newborn nephilim, so human transportation was his choice—while keeping his eyes peeled for any interference, of which there was, thankfully, none.

“I suppose I should get you some food and some clothing,” Castiel said, mostly to himself, although if you spoke up he’d be grateful. You didn’t, though; you just blinked up at him with those big eyes, and Cas felt more lost than ever.

He knew enough about humans—and you were at least half human—to know that babies only drank milk, and as they got older they gained an affinity for solid foods. But you were somewhere between a newborn and a toddler. Would milk be enough to sustain you? Would you even understand how to eat solid foods? It was all confusing for an angel who already felt out of his depth.

Castiel stopped at the first store he came across, and he carried you with him—you were still wrapped in that blanket he had grabbed from your mother’s house—as he started to grab anything he thought he’d need to take care of you, including a lot he probably didn’t need. As soon as he’d paid for everything, he carried you into the family restroom so he could get you into the clothes he’d picked up, as you still seemed too young to be capable of dressing yourself.

“Alright,” Castiel said after you were dressed, looking at you long and hard for a moment before sighing in near-defeat. “I don’t know why your father picked me for this mission, Sam or Dean would be much better at—“ a crash from somewhere outside the restroom had Castiel whipping around, prepared for a threat. But the door remain closed, and whatever had made noise was now silent.

Castiel turned back around only when he felt a tug on his arm. He looked down to see you—but he didn’t have to look as far down as he expected. Cas blinked in surprise, taking in the sight of you, now maybe six inches taller and a few years older, the clothes on you stretched and far too small.

“What…” Cas breathed, unsure what to even ask.

You just tugged at his hand again, gripping it firmly in your shaking hands.

“I’m scared.” It was the first words Cas had heard you speak, and they snapped him back into focus.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Now how did you get so big?”

You just blinked up at Cas, apparently unwilling to speak again.

“It’s ok,” Cas sighed. “It doesn’t matter, I just…let’s get you some bigger clothes and get you out of here.”

Cas led you out towards the clothing section, turning his back on you for just a second to find the right size. But once he turned around again, you were gone.

“Hey!” Cas realized just then that he didn’t know your name. He whirled around frantically, trying to catch sight of you between the racks of clothing. He rushed down aisle after aisle, freezing when he got to the third one and saw a girl that looked suspiciously like you, but was now three inches taller, being cornered by a large man whose eyes flashed black.

Cas didn’t speak, he just took four large strides, and as soon as the demon turned to look at him, he stretched out his hand and placed it against the demon’s forehead. There was a flash of light behind the demon’s eyes, and he dropped to the floor after only a second. You looked from the dead demon to Castiel in awe.

“Why do you keep getting bigger?” Castiel sighed, bending down slightly to look you in the eye.

“I wasn’t big enough to stop him.” Your voice came out in a quiet whimper—you were shaking in fear. “It was scary, so I wanted to get bigger, and…and then I just did.” Your big eyes were gonna be the death of Cas, he just knew it; especially when they were filled with tears like now. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Hey, no, it’s ok, it’s just…not many people can do that. Most people have to say the size they are until they grow.” You still looked concerned, so Cas waved it off. “It doesn’t matter, you didn’t do anything wrong. Now let’s get you into some bigger clothes and get you safe.”

At this point, you looked like a young teenager, so Castiel went to a different clothes section to find you something. You held his hand the whole way, which Cas was grateful for—he didn’t want to lose you again.

Cas picked up a size for you and sent you off to put it on, making sure he could see you entering and leaving the bathroom. While you were gone, he grabbed about three more sizes in case you spontaneously grew again.

“I’m ready,” you said as you returned to Castiel.

“Ok…” Cas stared at you for a moment. “Do…do you know your name?”

“My name…” you pondered the question for a long moment. “Yes, I…Y/N. I remember my mother calling me that…before I was born. She named me Y/N.”

Cas smiled.

“Ok then. Y/N it is.”

…

Once you were ready, Cas led you out to his car and the two of you were finally on your way again. The car went along in silence for several miles, but Cas could tell you were contemplating something, and after a while you finally got up the courage to speak.

“Are you my father?”

The question shouldn’t have surprised Cas, but he froze up the moment it left your mouth.

“I…no, I’m not,” he said finally. “Your father’s name is Gabriel. He wanted to be here, really, but it was too dangerous. He…let’s just say he has a lot of enemies.”

“Is that why my mother is dead?” Your voice was more subdued this time, and the question again froze Castiel.

“No, little one,” Cas began hesitantly. How could he tell you that your mother died giving birth to you? “Your mother, she…she chose to save you, rather than herself.”

“Save me?” You prodded. “Is it because I…I can do things, like grow?”

“Kind of.” Castiel ran a hand over his face, willing the car ride to end. “Your father is an archangel, and that makes you a nephilim. But your mother, she was just a human. She…she couldn’t bring you into this world and survive, her body wasn’t strong enough.”

Your silence was starting to scare Cas more than your questions.

“So…so I killed my mom?” It was with tears in your eyes that you finally spoke again.

“No,” Castiel insisted. “No, you did not choose any of this, this isn’t your fault. Your mother and father made their choices, you’re just the result of them. But your mother’s death is not on you.”

“It still feels like it is,” you mumbled. “How…how do I miss someone I’ve never met?” You blinked up at Cas, and he swore he’d never felt more out of his depth.

“Look, I…I know that you don’t have your parents here right now, but I’m going to look after you. I’m going to take you to a safe place, and I promise that you’re going to be alright.”

“Why are you helping me?” You asked. Cas barely had to think about the answer to this.

“Because I believe that you deserve a chance, the same as anyone else. You’ve got powers, little one. Powers that might scare some people. But I think that you’re good, and I’m not scared of you just because of your strength.”

“What if I’m not good?” Your gaze faltered, falling away from Cas’s. “What if you should be scared of me?”

“Good isn’t something that you’re born as,” Cas said. “It’s something you choose. You can choose good, if you want to.”

“I do,” you insisted. “I just…I don’t think I know how.”

A hint of a smile crossed Cas’s lips.

“Well I can try to teach you. And my friends, they will too.”

…

The rest of the ride to the bunker passed uneventfully, but Cas began to get nervous the closer he got to the bunker. He was all but forcing this nephilim onto Sam and Dean, so how would they react when he arrived? Would they be scared of you, or force Cas to leave? Would they not want to put themselves in danger to help some non-human?

It didn’t seem like the Sam and Dean that Cas knew, but then again they’d never been presented with a nephilim before.

“Your friends.” Your words startled Cas out of his thoughts. “Are they…like you?”

“You mean angels?” Cas had explained who he was to you. “No, no they’re human. But they like to help people. I believe they’ll help you.” Cas had to believe it—he had to.

…

“You’re back.” Dean’s greeting seemed less then happy as he stared Cas down. “Where’s the—“

“Hello.”

Dean‘s gaze whipped around from Cas to you as you stepped up beside Cas.

“What the—I thought she was just born.” Dean looked back at Cas, questions swimming behind his eyes.

“She was, she uh…she grew up fast,” Cas offered lamely.

“Why?” Sam spoke up for the first time, eying you nervously, but he didn’t look as threatening as Dean.

“I got scared,” you said. “So I had to grow up fast.”

“What’s your name?” Sam asked before Dean could say anything else.

“I’m Y/N.” Sam noticed the way you were almost hiding behind Cas. He couldn’t tell if you were scared of him, or just shy, but either way he tried to make himself look as non threatening as possible.

“Well, I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean. C’mon down here and we can show you where to sleep.” Sam pointedly ignored Dean’s glare. “Do you need anything to eat?”

“No, I’m not hungry,” you decided after a moment of pondering.

“Good, now you can explain to us what kind of powers you have and how you plan to use them,” Dean cut in, ignoring the glares from Sam and Cas.

“I…” the question froze you, and Cas jumped in.

“Dean, it’s been a long day. Just let her get some sleep.”

“Oh, sure, and while she’s sleeping, every demon and angel on earth is pulling out all the stops to get to her! I mean she could be working with any of them!”

“Why would she work with them?” Sam demanded. “They want her dead.”

“Yeah, or they want to use her powers! She could’ve cut a deal with them.”

“Dean, she’s just a kid,” Cas interjected.

“Yeah, a kid who was a baby a couple hours ago. She’s not normal, she’s a freak! Who knows what else she’ll do?”

“Dean, calm down—“ Sam’s attempt at keeping the peace just made Dean angrier.

“Calm down?! We have a nephilim in our house, and we don’t know what it can do!”

“She’s not an i-“ Cas’s interruption went completely unnoticed by Dean.

“And we don’t know what side it’s on! Gabriel was always switching sides, what makes you think this kid is gonna be any different?”

“Dean, she doesn’t even know Gabriel,” Cas argued.

“But he’s still the father. She could still—“

“Stop it!” Your outburst froze all three men, and it took you a prolonged minute to realize why; they couldn’t move. By just your word, you’d rendered them incapable of doing anything but stare at you—Sam and Cas in amazement, Dean in anger. “I didn’t…” your gaze focused on Cas, almost pleading with him to help you. “I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—I don’t know how to stop it.” You stared down at your hands, and then back up. “I didn’t mean it! Let them go!”

The three men moved simultaneously as their joints relaxed and their legs moved. Dean took a half step back from you, Sam stayed where he was, and Cas came up to stand in front of you.

“It’s ok,” he whispered as you started to shake. “I know you didn’t mean to, it’s ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I don’t think I can control this.”

Cas knelt down, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

“I know you can. I’m going to help you.”

“Me too.” You hadn’t noticed Sam approaching you until his hand was on your shoulder. “I know a little bit about self control.”

Dean lingered in the corner, wariness etched onto his features, but the anger was somewhat dissipated.

“Come with me,” Sam continued—he was still ignoring Dean’s glares. “I’ll get you settled in.”

You let Sam lead you down a hallway. You could hear Dean start to yell at Castiel the moment you left the room, and Cas was yelling right back.

“Uh, this room is empty,” Sam said, stopping in front of a door. “So you can use it.”

“Ok,” you mumbled, standing in front of the door and rocking back and forth on your heels. “I’m sorry for being so much trouble,” you added, your head ducked low.

“Your dad has helped us out before,” Sam said. “So I’m glad you’re here—I want to help you.”

“Dean said my dad did bad stuff, too,” you said.

“Yeah, he…is a complicated man.” Sam shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Well, anyway…” Sam opened up the door to your room, stepping back so you could go inside. You took a hesitant step inside before turning around and looking up at Sam, as if worried he was going to leave.

“What should I do if the demons or angels come inside?” You asked, your voice tight and high pitched.

“Hey.” Sam put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust me. They don’t know where this place is, and it’s warded. They can’t get to you, we won’t let them.”

Your features visibly relaxed.

“Ok.” You found yourself wrapping your arms around the kind man before you’d really made the decision to do it. “Thank you.”

He was stiff for a moment, but quickly he reciprocate the hug.

“You’re gonna be ok,” he promised.

…

The next week passed about as Cas had expected, although even he was surprised at how eager Sam was to help you. Sam hung around the bunker the entire week, getting you used to life on earth and everything you didn’t know.

Dean however, remained fairly hostile. But things weren’t as bad as they’d been the first day, and Cas was even starting to notice Dean warm up to you in little ways; making a little extra food at breakfast, letting you join him in the Dean cave when he was watching something—things like that.

You might have gotten too comfortable around Dean based on his attitude, because when Dean announced to the general area that he had found a hunt you spoke up—

“I’ll help!”

The trio of men looked over at you with varying degrees of surprise.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked.

“No!” Dean insisted. “You’re staying here, I’m not babysitting some kid on the hunt.”

“I don’t want you to babysit me,” you argued. “I want to help.”

“Sam, help me out here,” Dean demanded. When Sam seemed reluctant, Dean groaned, “oh come on!”

“Well, maybe she can help!” Sam offered. “Give her a chance.”

Dean glanced from Sam to Cas, hoping one of them would break. When they didn’t, he huffed in annoyance, but his shoulders slumped.

“Fine.”

…

The long car ride was going surprisingly well. Dean’s music was your first introduction to the art, and your enthusiastic response instantly gained you brownie points with Dean.

Each and every song that came on elicited the same response from you—

“Is this the best one?”

And every time the brothers would respond at the same time, Dean with a “yes!” And Sam with a “no!” All in all, Cas couldn’t have asked for a better bonding experience.

“Alright,” Dean said after a while, turning the music down. “We’ll be there soon, so we need to talk this out. From all appearances, it’s a vampire—a nest, actually. Now as soon as we locate it, I want Sam and Cas to be ready with the dead man’s blood, and…” Dean seemed to be rethinking his plan for a moment, before he made up his mind… “and I want the kid with me.” Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror, and his voice was suddenly more firm. “You need to be careful, and you need to not be in the way. Do you understand me?”

You were trying to hide your excited smile as you replied.

“Yes sir.”

…

You didn’t help. Or stay out of the way. In fact, barring lost limbs or lives, the hunt couldn’t have gone much worse, and you knew it was your fault.

Your first sight of a vampire scared you so much, that some of your nephilim energy came from you without you planning on it, blasting several vamps—and unfortunately Dean—away from you. Unfortunately, that blast of power had you thinking that maybe you could take on the vamps magically. This tactic just meant that you got in Dean’s way, and your magic didn’t respond the way you wanted it to—it didn’t respond at all.

Because of this, nearly half the vampires got away, and the ones that didn’t went straight for the easy target; you.

You were on the floor with a vampire drinking from your neck before Dean was even able to start swinging. He took out the two vampires that went for him before he able to get to you. He pried the vampire away from your neck before taking care of it with a single swing.

“Are you crazy?!” You were gasping for breath, blood mingling with sweat and tears as you tried to calm down while Dean yelled at you. “I told you to be careful! I told you not to get in the way! You could’ve—“ Dean cut himself off with a huff, turning to look for any remaining vampires. “I’ve gotta go find the nest before they get to Cas and Sam. You stay here.” The look Dean gave you before he left ensured your complete obedience to his order.

You slumped down onto the floor, drained and desperate to calm down. How could you have screwed up so badly, and right when Dean was finally starting to trust you?

You were finally able to breathe normally again by the time Dean returned with Sam and Cas in tow.

“A few of them got away,” Dean grumbled. “But they’re long gone now, and without their nest I don’t think they’re coming back.

“Dean, I didn’t—“ you barely got a couple of words out before Dean cut you off.

“Don’t! No, I don’t want to hear it. You could’ve gotten killed, you could’ve gotten one of us killed!”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted. “Dean, we should go. She’s hurt, and so is Cas—he’s too weak to heal, we gotta regroup.”

Dean led the dejected group to the Impala, but as soon as the car was on the road the yelling started up again. Sam and Cas were too tired to stop Dean, so you curled up in your corner of the Impala and listened to Dean’s criticisms of all you had done wrong. Within minutes, the words seemed to blend into each other and all you could hear was the anger in his tone and the harsh beating of your heart. You could feel the adrenaline still pumping in your veins, but it only seemed to highlight your fear and the pain in your neck and the tears that were building behind your eyes. The toxic combination seemed to build up until it was all you could feel, and it felt like anything more would make you snap—

“I mean how could you be so stupid?!”

That was it.

“Stop it!” Dean looked taken aback at your outburst. “I know that I screwed it all up, and I’m sorry! I’m sorry that Cas got hurt, and I’m sorry that the vampires got away. But I can’t fix that now, and I’m freaking out and I’m bleeding and I don’t want to listen to you yell anymore! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll say it as much as you want to hear it, just stop yelling at me!”

It was a good thing that the Impala was nearing the bunker, otherwise the four of you would’ve suffocated on the silence in the car.

“Come with me,” Dean told you as you all stepped out of the car. Cas started forwards, but Dean waved him off. “Go fix that—“ he gestured at the wound on Cas’s side—it wasn’t deep, but it was long. “I’ve got her.”

Neither Cas nor Sam argued; they just went off to their own rooms to get cleaned off. You trailed behind Dean as if you were marching to your death sentence. He noticed this about halfway down the hallway.

“I’m not going to yell at you again,” he insisted. “So relax.”

The tension in your shoulders eased, but you still didn’t speak as Dean led you to his room and instructed you to sit on his bed while he disappeared into the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a first aid kit in hand, the anger on his face all but gone.

“Let me see it.”

You pulled your hair to the side so Dean could get at the bite marks on your neck. You weren’t sure why you couldn’t heal yourself the way Cas sometimes could—maybe you were just too scared to figure out your powers now—but Dean didn’t question it; he just got to fixing the problem.

“This is gonna sting,” he warned you as he soaked a cotton ball with alcohol before pressing it to your neck. You forced yourself not to hiss in pain, but you couldn’t hold back the way your face twitched and your shoulder flinched. Dean didn’t comment, though.

“I am sorry,” you mumbled as Dean quietly continued to clean your wound.

“I know,” he replied simply. “I don’t think I can trust you on hunts anymore, but I do get that you’re sorry. And maybe I went a little too hard on you, ok? So how ‘bout we just forgive each other and move on. Maybe…maybe start over.”

“Ok,” you said, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Despite himself, Dean chuckled.

“Don’t be a dork,” he insisted. But after a moment’s pause he continued— “I’m Dean. It’s nice to meet you too.”

And the two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence as Dean finished patching up your neck. His concerned features each time you hissed in pain, and his gentle touch so as not to hurt you, had you thinking one thing;

This is one heck of a second chance.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[bachiras-toaster]

dazai teaches you how to suck dick : ̗̀➛

OSAMU DAZAI x f!reader

cw. nsfw virgin!reader, dick sucking, hand job, alcohol consumption

wc. 2.9k

When the two of you arrived at Dazai’s apartment to hang out after a long evening at the Agency, you had already made yourself comfortable on his couch as he placed the pizza boxes he had ordered on the coffee table in front of you.

"Nice!-" You beamed, taking a slice before your best friend even had the chance to sit down.

"Hey, don't get too comfortable there without me." The scruffy-haired man smirked slightly as he took a seat on the other end of the sofa, looking at you over the pizza; also putting a bottle of sake down. "You might want to sit closer." He teased lightly before taking a bite of his own slice.

"Alcohol? I like your way of thinking." You giggled, already having grabbed it by the handle to pour yourself a mix into the cup you had preparedly set in front of you.

Dazai laughed slightly, holding his pizza up in challenge as he watched you pour your drink from beyond his bites.

"You can't resist a drink, can you?" He hummed lightly, pouring his own glass once you had finished. "I knew you’d be all over the bottle as soon as I put it down.”

"You know me so well." You beamed brightly at him, clinking your cups together when he had finished pouring.

“Cheers." He exclaimed with a small smirk before taking a sip from his cup, watching intently as you did the same. Your willingness to drink with him had always amused him, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he felt the need to take advantage of the situation with the spark of an interesting conversation. "So to pass the time... Let's play twenty questions."

"Twenty questions? Alright." You giggled, already beginning to tap your chin thoughtfully. "Well, I've known you for quite a while, so there aren't a lot of questions I could ask, so I'm gonna try to be reall obscure about what I say..." A lightbulb seemed to flicker in your mind. "Aha! What's the worst thing you've been told off for during your school days?"

The man just chuckled lightly at your query before taking another bite of his pizza, considering the question deeply.

"Oh, well, there's been quite a few times I’ve been in trouble. Usually, it's just for something small like talking in class or not turning in an assignment on time." He grinned, taking another sip of his sake. "...But the worst thing I got into trouble for was sneaking a girl into my dorm room. The dean wasn't very happy about it."

"Seriously?!" You chuckled brightly. "Oh my god, you would do that, wouldn't you?" You asked rhetorically with an amused smile. "Okay. now your turn to ask me a question."

Dazai questioned almost immediately, like he had such a question simmering in the corner of his mind for so long.

“What's the one thing you want to do but are too afraid to try?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

You giggled a little, trying to cover your laughs by sipping your drink over your own words.

"Oh, god. This is an embarrassing one..." You mumbled out, hesitant to respond- but figuring you didn’t have a lot to hide from one of your closest colleagues at the Agency. "...I guess probably giving someone a blowjob." She shrugged lightly, bringing her legs up onto the couch to cross them as she drank more.

"Wow— I really expect that from someone who's a virgin." Dazai’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before he quickly recovered and chuckled, trying to keep his expression neutral. "I'm not sure why you’d think that's embarrassing. It's just something you haven't done before." He jabbed, leaning back on the couch slightly. "Don't be afraid to try it. You never know if you'll like it until you do." He teased lightly, enjoying the playful banter between you two.

"Okay, haha, very funny." You feigned an amused expression, rolling your eyes at his virgin comment. "I get it. I'm a virgin and you're a massive playboy."

"Hey, I didn't say I was a massive playboy! I just happen to be a little popular with the ladies.” Dazai grinned, his eyes twinkling with pride. "I have more experience than you, that's all." He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

"...Have you ever gotten a blowjob?" You asked curiously, but you quickly felt like retracting your statement when you realised what kind of question you had just asked- and to your best friend too! "—Nevermind! Forget I asked that—"

"Well, it is twenty questions. If you're going to ask, you might as well know." Dazai shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah, I have. Feels good." He smiled slightly, trying not to look too smug about it. "If you ask me, it's nothing you should be scared about trying."

"It's just scary because I'm a—... I haven’t done it before." You grumbled, hiding your lips behind your cup. "Like— I wouldn't even know what to do. And if the guy I lost my v-card to turned out to be an asshole, it'd ruin my whole experience."

“Then you'll just have to find someone who knows what they're doing, then." He winked playfully, his smirk turning slightly teasing. "Or you could always practice on something else beforehand." He casually took another sip of his drink, watching you carefully.

"Oh yeah? And who the hell would be willing to let me practise giving them a blowjob?" You scoffed at his suggestion, only for them to respond in all seriousness.

"I could always volunteer, you know. You know I'd be more than happy to help you out, even if it's just practice."

You froze for a moment, staring blankly at him. You didn't seem to believe that he was being anything but sarcastic in what he was saying, and you just let out a chuckle in order to match what you thought was his playful intention.

"You're funny."

"I try." Dazai chuckled, putting his cup down onto the coffee table to focus his entire attention on you; he couldn't help but grin. "So, are you gonna take me up on my offer or what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Are you being serious?" You asked plainly.

"Of course I'm serious." He couldn't help but tease you a little bit, enjoying the atmosphere between you two. "You know I'd never lie to you." He added. "But then again... Maybe you're to innocent for that." He commented with a grin as he looked away for a second, knowing that it would get a rise out of you.

"I am not innocent!" You put your cup down on the table, your face flushing as you looked sort of offended at the remark.

“Oh, come on, (Y/n)." Dazai chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You know you are. But that's what makes you so damn cute." He leaned forward, his nose scrunching with an adorable smile.

But you simply furrowed your brows, gnawing your her bottom lip as you seemed to be deep in thought at his abrupt offer.

“…You'd really help me?"

"Of course I would!" He smiled, taking your hand in his. "I'd do anything for you." He leaned back in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "It'll be our little secret, okay? Just between us. I just know you’d be embarrassed falling into the same palm of mine that so many women have fallen into before.” He boasted, to your reluctant agreement.

"Okay..." You said, watching as he reclined comfortable against the sofa before you began inching closer towards him. "But— I don't know what I'm doing." You gulped, abruptly freezing at the realisation.

“That's what practice is for." Dazai smiled, pulling you closer to him. "Don’t worry! We’ll take it slow, and I'll teach you everything you need to know." He ran his fingers through your hair, savouring the feeling of you sat so meekly opposite him. "I'm actually glad you agreed to this. You have no idea how much I've imagined you in front of me like this."

"What—?" Your face immediately felt warm when he said that.

"Don't pretend like you didn't know." He teased, smirking at you. He leaned in close, his lips close to your ear, whispering softly. "And don't pretend that I'm the only one with such thoughts… You seriously thought I couldn’t hear you the nights you’d let me crash on your couch?”

"What are you talking about?" You asked, reluctant to crawl any further towards him.

"Oh, come on," He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playful amusement. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leaned back against the sofa, patting the spot in front of him. "I've heard you… And it wasn't just the occasional moan," he whispered, his hand stroking along your jaw as he leaned in close. "I'm always getting hard listening to you. Fuckin' my own fist and pretending it's you."

"You— What?" You gulped, your face blushing profusely. You admitted, you did find him a attractive as hell, but never had you thought that he'd have such lewd thoughts about you.

"You were always whispering sexy things in your sleep, about wanting someone to fuck you hard." The man smirked, his hand running gently down your arm before lifting his thumb to trace your collarbone. "It only made me want you more… The fact that you’d be so bold to make those noises while I’m here."

He reached out to take your hand to place it on his crotch, which already seemed to have a tent formed in it due to his erection. You gulped as he forced you to feel his hard-on, and you looked up at him, sweating a little.

"You could... Hear that? I didn't realise I spoke in my sleep..."

“Well, now you know." Your friend smirked, still holding your hand firmly against his crotch. "You were really anything but quiet. But truly. Your voice was like music to my ears." Dazai whispered, holding a smug grin. "I couldn't get enough of it." He leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "And I still can't."

You felt like you couldn’t say anything. You just remained seated where you were, hesitant to crawl further towards him; but your hand was still confidently placed on his pants, which you could feel was growing tighter by the second.

"(Y/n)..." Dazai moaned softly, his hand moving to your thigh. "You're making this so fuckin’ hard for me..!" He chuckled gravelly. "How about this, sweet..." He purred, his fingers lacing with yours as he began to guide you to the space between his legs, his other hand moving down your thigh to tease at you. "If you like the feel of this..." He trailed off, his thumb brushing against your clothed cunt. "Maybe you could return the favor? Come on. I’ll talk you through how to suck dick well.”

After a moment, you just nodded, feeling as if you were complying completely.

“Okay… As long as you tell me what to do…” You sat on your knees between his thighs on the couch, loosening the bands of his sweatpants so you could pull it down— He had helped you with that.

“Atta girl." Dazai murmured, his voice rough with desire as he watched you undress him. He had even leaned back against the couch, giving you plenty of room to work. "Just take your time and pay attention to how I react." He purred, his hand reaching down to guide your hand to his base. "…C’mon... Touch it. Take it all in your hand. Feel how hard it is for you."

As he fished his cock out of his pants, you seemed a little intimidated by how big he was— you started to understand what women saw in him… Had this been the first time you had actually seen a dick in person? You took his length into your palms, trying to adjust yourself to the feeling before looking up at him and awaiting further command.

“Good." Dazai praised softly, his voice hoarse with need. "Now, slowly, start to stroke up and down." He instructed, watching as your hand began to move in time with his words. "Don't worry about being gentle. I like it when you're firm."

You started firmly stroking your hand up and down the length of his cock, interested in how warm he felt in your palm.

"That's it." He encouraged, his hips starting to roll slightly in time with your strokes. "You're doing great." He murmured, reaching down to run a finger lightly over your lower lip. "Tell me... do you like touching me like this?"

“It… Feels okay…” You said softly, continuing to run your hand up and down his cock.

"Just okay?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow playfully. "To me, I'd say it looks pretty fucking hot seeing you touch me like this." He leaned back against the sofa, leaving you more space to work with. “Now, I want you to use your tongue.”

“My—?” You stammered, not stopping your hand movement. “Like… What do I do? Do I just— Do I need to put it all in my mouth?”

"No, not yet." He reassured you. "Just tease me with with your tongue; run it along the underside of my cock." He watched as you complied, his member twitching slightly at your touch.

You leaned down forward a bit so you could run your tongue up the length of his dick. You seemed a little surprised with the surface of how it felt, but you let your taste travel the entire length before you got to the tip, where you swiped a lick over the slit of it.

“Fuck." He hissed, his hips jerking up slightly. "That feels so good." He groaned, his hand sliding into your hair to grip gently. "Keep going, (Y/n)." He encouraged, his voice thick with lust.

You kitten-licked his cock, your tongue licking stripes up his dick like it was some piece of candy. The view of you from above only aroused Dazai more- Which you could tell by the way he subtly attempted to lush your head down.

"Oh god—“ He groaned, unable to get the words out fast enough. "You feel fucking incredible." His hips jerked up, his cock twitching almost painfully against your mouth. "Suck on it, (Y/n), suck me off. Take the tip into your mouth first.” He demanded, his grip on your scalp tightening.

You followed his command, finding the tip of his cock and planting a soft kiss onto it before you took it into your mouth. Once the tip was settled between your wet lips, you began licking at it from the inside of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck." He shakily breathed out, his hand sliding from your hair down to your neck, gripping it lightly. "You're doing so good, baby." He praised, his voice rough with need. "Don't stop, just keep going. Take more of me down as you go.”

You nodded, holding the base of his cock with your hand as you gradually began taking more of his dick inside of your mouth as you sucked on him. Your tongue swirled from his tip down to the veins of his length, your saliva coating his cock.

"Shit." Soft groans were heard from his lips, his eyes closing as he leaned his head back against the couch cushions. His voice was thick with lewd noises, almost hoarse from the sound of it. "(Y/n)— Fuck, that feels so good." Dazai moaned, thrusting his hips forward slightly. "Don't stop, baby. Come on—" He encouraged, sliding his hand down to your cheek to rub lightly.

Your head bobbed up and down on his cock, and you quickly realised that the parts that you couldn’t reach with your tongue, you could just stroke with your palm. Your slurping became more aggressive as you found your rhythm, and the pace in which you sucked him off became more steady.

“Fu-uck—" You could vividly hear his panting, hands gripping the couch behind him. He could feel himself getting close, his hips starting to buck forward more forcefully as he gave in to the pleasure you were giving him. "Your mouth is so fucking amazing, you sure you’re not a virgin?”

You continued, feeling fuelled by his praise and wanting to suck him off more simply because of how much he seemed to enjoy it. You also seemed to get off to how much his muscles tensed at your tongue. Dazai moaned— Almost a little too needily— hips jerking up forcefully. His head was thrown back, eyes closed tight as he tried to get closer.

"Don't stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—“ He whined out. “(Y/n). I'm about to cum. Fuck. Fuck." Dazai’s breathing hitched as he watched you, his fingers tangling in your hair lightly. He could feel his climax building fast, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "Fuck...”

You kept at the pace you were going at, but your sucking became more desperate as you wanted to know how it would feel to make a guy cum— And partially because of how nice Dazai sounded when he whimpered.

“(Y/n), open your mouth." He ordered, voice low and demanding. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, and he didn't want to cum in your mouth without permission.

Though thankfully, he didn’t have to. You did as you were told quite obediently, and immediately opened your mouth wide to him, your tongue laid flatly as you let him in. Dazai looked down at your opened mouth, eyes dark with lust. He could feel his climax rushing up fast, his cock throbbing against your soft inside.

"Swallow, (Y/n)." He warned.

As his reddened tip spurt his seed into your wet mouth, you didn’t even need to be told twice before you swallowed it almost immediately without a second thought. Your face seemed to contort a little as you hadn’t expect the cum to taste so salty, nor did you expect it to have such an odd consistency, but you swallowed nevertheless.

Dazai let out a shaky breath, his hips jerking back against the couch.

“Fuck." He panted, unable to believe how good that felt. He looked down, eyes soft and smouldering. "I really shouldn't have let you do that." He sighed as he felt your warmth envelop his cock, swallowing him down. He groaned deeply, his body shuddering from the intense release. "Shit, (Y/n)..."

“Why not…?” You queried innocently, swiping off the cum that dropped from the corner of your lips to swallow in your mouth.

"Because now I want more." He had confessed, running his fingers through her your gently. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "And I know you're not ready for what I really want." He whispered, his voice low and rough.

[marginofthought]

Hey, @redcl8ver 👋 you asked for some of my bottom!sam fic recommendations and it's much easier to reply/link in a seperate post so here you go.

These are in no particular order and just a few of the ones I love.

Plotty:

i don’t smoke by brotherfucking (lovedhands): After John's death, Dean blames himself, puts up walls, and barricades himself from love. Sam tears it all down.

Well Jung by alwaysthrowsscissors: In an act of desperation, they go to couple’s therapy to try to work things out. It may bring them closer than they bargained for.

What went wrong yesterday by SinnamonSpider: Sam struggles to come to terms with the six months he spent alone after Dean’s death - and the fact that it never happened at all. And on top of it all, he now has to deal with the feelings for his brother that have been dragged to the surface.

Memories, sadly orphaned: Sam gets hit by a curse, one that releases the memories repressed over the years. Watching his little brother stuck in a coma, Dean has to to make a big decision. To save his baby brother, and risk losing him forever, or to let him die

(for you and me) i got no alibi by remy (iamremy): There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

Only Natural (Be My Hands), sadly orphaned: Dean leaves Sam alone for all of twenty minutes, and the idiot manages to break both of his wrists. It's up to Dean to take care of him. 

Mainly smut:

Abstinence Isn't For Everyone by littlefirefly31: Back when Dean and Sam joined the abstinence group and Dean is talking about how good sex feels and Sam starts to get turned on.

Honeymoon, sadly orphaned: Dean's always wanted a wife. Sam fits the bill perfectly.

Complete by NovaNara: Even safe and sound in the Bunker, when Dean hears something, he gotta check on Sam. Just in case. Doesn't he?

Roles by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean): “I think the roast can wait a little longer, though, don’t you think?”

[allmoshnobrain]

𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x hunter!reader | word count: 1,7k | requests are open! send yours here

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.” “This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.” “I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

✦ on this fic: dean winchester x reader, fem!reader but this part is pretty neutral, angst, s3 spn plot

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing a reader insert for the supernatural universe. this is super angsty, and other parts to this au may come in the future so feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any suggestions! hope u enjoy the read 🖤

Word travels fast in a hunter’s world.

In a job where information is everything, sharing what you know wasn’t just helpful, but also expected. So, when the Devil’s Gate opened and demons started pouring out everywhere, it didn’t take long before you heard about it. It didn’t come as a surprise when you heard Sam and Dean Winchester had been there when it happened, right in the middle of it. You knew the boys; you knew they had a knack for getting mixed up in every kind of mess that popped up, ever.

What did surprise you, though, was Dean showing up on your doorstep less than a month later.

You knew something was off the second you saw him. First, because he was alone, and honestly, you couldn’t remember ever seeing him without Sam around. But mostly, it was the look in his eyes. As soon as you opened the door, he smiled at you, but his eyes didn’t follow — there was a storm brewing in his green irises, one even he didn’t seem to notice.

“Dean,” you said, frowning as he stood in your doorway. “How did you…”

“Bobby told me,” he cut you off, like it was no big deal, not even waiting for you to finish asking how the hell did he know where you lived. Of course, Bobby had. You sighed — would’ve been nice if Bobby gave you a heads-up, but whatever. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, but… what’s going on?” you asked, stepping aside to let him into your little cabin. It wasn’t much — pretty small, tucked away from the town, and didn’t look like anything special from the outside. Inside, though, was another story. Your eyes flicked up to the devil’s trap right above the door, and you felt a wave of relief when Dean walked right under it. Okay, not possessed. That’s a start.

“Can’t I just pay a visit to an old friend?” he asked, and you raised an eyebrow. Sure, you’d crossed paths with Dean more than a few times — occupational hazard of being a hunter — but something about this felt off. It wasn’t like him to just show up without a reason, especially with everything that had gone down in the past few weeks.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” you pressed, not letting him off the hook. His smile faltered, quickly replaced by that familiar annoyed look he got when he didn’t want to talk about whatever was actually on his mind.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you never just drop by for no reason. Where’s Sam?”

“Not here,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “Look, I’m fine. Everything's fine.  Bobby just figured you’d wanna know what went down with the Colt and yellow-eyes…”

“I’ve got a phone,” you cut in, crossing your arms. 

Dean sighed, his usual swagger faltering for a second as he cleared his throat, almost like he was nervous. “And… maybe he also thought I could use some time away from hunting, just for a bit, you know? With someone I… I liked being around.”

He couldn’t even look at you when he said it, a slight blush creeping up his neck. It wasn’t the Dean you were used to seeing, and that made your heart skip in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

You blinked in surprise. Dean, shy? Around you, of all people? That was rare. You’d seen him flirt before — hell, he was good at it and he knew it. This wasn’t the Dean you were used to, but then again, he wasn’t exactly acting like his usual self today.

“You’re not a shapeshifter, are you?” you asked, slowly. He huffed.

“No, I’m not.”

“Mind if I check?” You grabbed the knife you always kept strapped to your thigh. Dean just shrugged, holding his hand out. You took it, his skin warm under your fingers, and pressed the iron blade against it until it drew blood. No reaction, a small twitch in his arm muscles the only sign he’d felt anything. 

“See?” he said, his voice a little rough. “Not a shapeshifter, not a demon, just good ol’ me.”

Alright then. As weird as it was, it looked like Dean Winchester had really shown up at your place just to… hang out? You glanced up at him, wiping your knife off on your jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “Come on, let me patch you up.”

“So,” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What’ve you been up to? Working any cases?”

“Why do you wanna know? Weren’t you supposed to be taking a break from hunting for a few days?” you shot back, and he chuckled. You glanced up at him. “You know I don’t hunt as much as you guys. I mostly just keep an eye on this area. But it’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“Yeah, well, you take care of yourself, alright? Lots of demons running around lately,” he said. “If you ever need backup, just call me.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly. “I haven’t been up to much other than keeping an eye on things. Honestly, I was worried about you guys. Heard you were at the Devil’s Gate when everything went down.”

“We were trying to stop it,” Dean said, and you nodded.

“I figured as much. But…” You hesitated. “That’s not exactly what everyone’s saying.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning a bit as he flexed his hand, checking how well he could move it with your bandages. “Who’s everyone?”

“The other hunters,” you said. “They’re saying Sam… and you… you guys made the whole thing happen.”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“And did you believe that bullshit?”

“I didn’t! Just… Please be careful out there, alright? Not all hunters are as friendly right now.” He looked at you for a moment, then let out a sigh and nodded. You hesitated. “Do you, uh, wanna hit up a bar or something? I mean, I’m not exactly living the most exciting life out here…”

“You got a TV and some beers?” he asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a few times before nodding. “Sweet. That’s all I need today. We could watch a movie or something, maybe order in.”

“I can cook,” you chimed in. “I’ve got a wood-burning oven outside... we could make homemade pizza.”

The way he looked at you, it was like you’d just revealed you had the keys to Heaven itself.

You finally figured out what was up much later in the night, while you and Dean were sprawled out in your queen bed.

At first, he had tried to be a gentleman and insisted on crashing on the couch, but you wouldn’t have it — the bed was more than big enough for both of you. No point in him getting a stiff neck just because he wanted to play nice. Sure, you were practical, but you also just wanted him to be comfortable. You could sense something was off with him, even if he kept saying he was fine.

So there you were, cozy and ready to sleep, lights out and moonlight streaming through the curtains, lying on your side and facing the wall as you listened to his deep breathing. You were almost drifting off yourself when he said it.

“I made a deal.”

You opened your eyes right away, twisting in bed to find his face just inches from yours. Your heart raced at the vulnerability in his gaze — the angst he’d tried to keep hidden was now clear as day. It made your heart sink and your breath hitch a little.

“What?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Dean closed his eyes for a second, letting out a small sigh.

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.”

“This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

You didn’t answer, just buried your face in your hands, struggling to catch your breath as tears started to well up in your eyes. The reaction shocked you — why did you care about him so much? How could you be terrified of losing him when you were just… what? Occasional hunting partners? Friends?

But he was right there with you, wasn’t he?

Was this why he had come to you?

“I wanted to tell you myself,” he said softly, as if he could read your mind. “I… I wanted to see you. One last time, at least.”

One last time. His words bounced around in your head, and you lowered your hands to face him, confusion scrunching your brow. That didn’t make sense. Demons usually gave you ten years after a deal, so why…?

“Dean,” you said slowly. “How long… how long did they give you?”

“A year,” he whispered, so quietly you almost missed it. “They gave me a year.”

“No,” you said, covering your mouth with one hand as the sobs started to spill out. “Oh, no, Dean, no, no, no…”

He pulled you close, wrapping you tight against his chest as you cried, your arms instinctively clinging to him. Incoherent words tumbled out — trying to apologize for crying, for feeling like a hole had been carved out of your chest. It didn’t feel right — you weren’t the one who was supposed to be feeling this way.

Because you weren’t the one dying.

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms that night. As your sobs faded into tired breaths and your eyes finally closed, Dean felt a sharp ache in his chest while watching your swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

He couldn’t deal with the whirlwind of feelings churning inside him right now. He couldn’t face the regret, the fear, not even that nameless feeling he had for you — because he was too scared to name it, to even acknowledge it was real. All he knew was that he had lied; Bobby hadn’t sent him to you. Things weren’t fine, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He had come to you of his own choice.

Because when his world was crumbling, he knew you were the only one who could help him pick up the pieces.

Even when everything felt hopeless.

Even when he felt completely lost.

[seraph-starman]

admit it | s.w.

pairing: sam winchester x reader summary: sam’s sleep schedule finally catches up to him word count: 1.9k remi’s notes: i had sassy, early seasons sam in mind for this (so you should too !) even though the plot doesn’t match <3 (-2 degrees celcius is close to 28 degrees for our american friends)

You had advised him to wear a jacket. It was raining, and -2 degrees outside as you trekked through the forest in an attempt to retrace your steps and find where the Impala was parked. You had gotten lost after the hunt for the burial site of an angry ghost. Usually Dean was pretty good at remembering where he parked his beloved car, but it was dark when you arrived and this forest was much bigger than anticipated. At the sound of sniffing behind you, barely audible over the sound of leaves crunching in your path and tapping of rain, you stop and turn to Sam. He shoots you a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. And rain can’t even make you sick,” he says in response to your stare before continuing to walk past you.

“Sure, rain can’t make you sick. But being cold and wet for prolonged periods of time can. We’ve been out here for an hour. And you don’t get a healthy amount of sleep, which can put you at risk for illnesses,” you reply, paraphrasing the article you had memorized just for this occasion as you catch up with him.

“I get plenty of sleep. Trust me, I’m not sick.”

Dean then looks back to you both, shaking his head in annoyance.

“You two are being a real help here.”

Sam rolls his eyes.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

The older Winchester stops and turns back, looking offended.

“Of course I know where we’re going!“

You both stop as you reach where Dean stood, eyes peering through the curtain of rain over the river that stood before you, to the trees that stretched for acres. The sun was rising over the tops of the woods.

“Here,” Sam says, sniffing between the actions of reaching into his pocket and then handing Dean a crumpled map. Dean groans, throwing his hands up before snatching the map from him.

“You had that this whole time?” He asks rhetorically before unfolding the map and turning to face the forest. Sam leans over his shoulder, before turning sharply into a forceful sneeze. Both you and Dean turn to stare at him. Sam wipes his nose as he’s met with both your looks, Dean’s grimace and your amusement. He frowns irritatedly before waving it off.

“I’m fine! Figure out where we are, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head, gazing back over the map.

“I think… that we’re here,” he accentuates with a jab to the river on the sodden map, “so that means that we need to go that way.“

He gestures up a soft hill and begins walking again, you trailing behind and Sam bringing up the rear. You fall into step beside him, lumbering along in Dean’s wake. Up close you could see the dark circles under his eyes, the undeniable consequence of his sleeping habits. Hell, none of you had gotten good sleep in a long while. But you knew Sam had it the worst. Occasionally you’d hear his low-voiced discussions with Dean, spoken only when they thought you were out of earshot. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, not at all, despite the teasing and the way he seemed consistently annoyed with you. He hated talking about his dreams, feeling like he was burdening someone with his own issues. Even with Dean he struggled. You’re interrupted out of your psycho-analysis of Sam as he realizes you’re staring. Again, but this time he could see the subtle concern in your gaze. It bothered him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head as you turn back to look ahead. You recognize the pullout a few feet ahead, where Dean was already brushing leaves off the Impala. You’d never been happier to see that car, and Sam seems to have a similar sentiment as he sighs in relief. 

The ride back to the bunker was quiet. Dean was too tired to put any music in, and the rain had quieted to a gentle tapping on the hood of the car. Cas was waiting when you got back, offering a quick congratulations on your success with the ghost before baiting Dean into another hunt. Sam had relentlessly tried to convince all of you that he was functioning as usual, that he could go with Dean and Cas. He was soon after proven wrong by the hellish coughing fit that followed his lame debate. So now it was just the two of you, and Sam had locked himself in his room with a box of tissues. All the better for you. It wasn’t like you wanted to listen to or take care of an irritated, fever-ridden Sam. You’d offered him some tea to help with his throat before he left to sulk in his room, which he’d accepted begrudgingly. He still refused to accept the fact that he was ill. You had attempted to research for long enough, disrupted in your focus each time Sam came in or out of the kitchen. You finally decided to check on him, whether he liked it or not.

“Sam? I have soup,” you say through his door, bowl in one hand and the other on the knob.

“I don’t like soup,” he grumbled hoarsely from the other side.

“Too bad.”

You push the door open, receiving a huff from him. He was laying back, four blankets over his lap and a fan pushing cold air towards him from a few feet away. Empty mugs littered his bedside table, along with a bottle of aspirin and a half empty pack of cold medicine capsules. A few tissues had been balled up and tossed around the trash can. You held in a snicker.

“Oh, how the mighty fall,” you quote. Sam sighs again, exasperatedly. You set the soup (mushroom) on his bedside table before turning to the TV.

“Love Island? Seriously?”

He furrows his brows at your judgement.

“It’s really not that bad. I mean, obviously it’s fake, but it’s somewhat entertaining. Better than whatever’s on cable, I guess.”

You shrug, picking up tissues and tossing them into the garbage before gathering the mugs, Sam watching your tidying carefully.

“You really don’t have to do that,” he says, turning the volume down on the TV. 

“It’s fine,” you reply, carrying the stack of mugs out of the room, when Sam’s voice stops you.

“Can I… have more of that tea that you made earlier? Please,” He asks. He much preferred coffee over tea, but ever since you had made him earl grey, (with a bit of milk and honey) it had become a quick favorite. 

You turn and smirk.

“You like it?”

“It’s not bad,” he said, shrugging.

Your smirk remains as you walk to the kitchen and set the empty mugs near the sink, setting the kettle back over the stove. For some reason, you were happy he liked your tea. And that he wasn’t being as stubborn as usual. You had been slightly caught off guard with his change in demeanor, from irritated to benign. After a few minutes of breathing in steam, the kettle whistles, announcing that it was finished boiling. You pour the water into one of the only remaining clean mugs and follow the routine of what you’d made before, when a shadow moving in the corner of your eye almost causes you to knock the still-hot mug over. The thing clears its throat roughly and you realize who it is.

“Jesus!” You say, steadying the mug.

Sam’s eyes meet yours, expression shifting from hard-set to attentive, brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“D’you need help?” He asks, taking the mug and holding it in his hands, looking down into the swirls of milk in the dark like he was searching for an untold prophecy. You watch in amusement as he sips the tea, making a face as it burns his tongue.

“It’s hot,” you add, smiling as he scoffs and sets the mug aside.

“You need to get back to bed.”

He rolls his eyes.

“What, so I have a curfew now?”

There goes soft, polite Sam. You sigh. This was going to be a long night. You usher him back to his room and somehow convince him to more medicine. He lays back on his bed, observing you as you lean in the doorway.

“You just going to stand there?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

You shrug.

“I can leave. You need to sleep anyways.”

“I’m not tired.“

You roll your eyes, when a grin starts to spread across your face.

“Y’know, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you get sick. Between the awful crap you come into contact with and your sleeping tendencies, you’d think there would’ve been at least one instance. But no. Somehow you avoid any illness. How’d you do it? Bribe a god? Is it something in those so-called ‘health shakes’ of yours? Honestly, it’s a medical mystery. You should be studied.”

Sam listens to your slight ramble, face growing more and more skeptical.

“Those shakes are actually good for you,” he replies.

“Out of everything I just said, that’s what you choose to defend?” You say, resisting the urge to scoff.

Sam rolled his eyes.

You look him over for a moment, before walking toward the desk to pick up the few newer balled-up tissues.

“Seriously though, you should at least try to get some sleep now. Even if you don’t want to. And, you’re probably too fatigued for the dreams-”

As soon as it slipped out you knew you shouldn’tve said anything. Sam looks to you as soon as it comes out, narrowing his eyes.

“Lemme guess— Dean?” He asks, irritation flooding his tone.

“No, no. I’ve heard you talk about them. With Dean. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I swear,” you add, “but I’ve heard enough.”

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“You could talk to me about them, Sam. If you wanted to. My opinion of you won’t change,” you say, voice much lower than it was before.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just not your problem,” he says, sucking in a breath. 

You sit down in the chair, facing him but avoiding his gaze.

“It can be our problem. All of us. This is really corny, but you’re not alone, Sam. Really.”

He sniffs.

“That was corny,” he agrees, laughing and then smiling slightly, “but… thanks.”

The lamp light cast shadows over his face, and you could see the dimples of his genuine smile. You suddenly wanted to kiss them, a thought that a you’re alarmed by, before it slips away.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, leaning forward to press the back of your hand to his forehead. He looks surprised, eyes flicking up to yours. They stay there, his lips parted like he was going to say something but never does. You smile, and his smile returns, softer but still present. And despite his runny nose and fever-flushed face, you kiss him. It isn’t rushed, or passionate or lustful or wanton. It’s just a kiss. But it means so much. Finally feeling comfortable. Safe. Needed. He goes rigid for a moment, before finally catching up and kissing back. His lips are slightly chapped, but also soft. You kiss the sides of his lips, his dimples as he grins into you. Then he grabs your shoulders and pulls back slightly, breathlessly, still smiling.

“Fantastic… that’s how I feel. But also- sick. And I don’t want you to-”

You laugh, “Oh, so now you admit it?”

[sammyofold]

Here are those fic recs I promised you @incesthemes ! I hope there's some in there that you'll really enjoy <3 I split up the recs into overarching tropes to group some together, but I'll start with those that don't fit into any of the groups.

The list got a bit long, so I decided to split it up into two parts.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Courting Death by theproblematique.

Summary: Sam Winchester lived the first six months of his life in a happy family; the next twelve years as John Winchester's only son, and the last decade as an orphan. He's supposed to die at twenty-two trying to save the woman he loves from a fire, because he doesn't have a brother to pull him back. But the night Sam meets his Reaper he discovers that Death is overly fond of pop-culture references, too beautiful to be real, and reluctant to kill him.

Servant of Servants 'verse by klove0511.

This is a two-part series (though I think it might've been intended to have more fics, its ending doesn't leave you feeling snubbed), posing the question: "what if it had been Sam who'd been mortally wounded at the end of Season 1?"

love potion no. 9 by according2thelore.

Summary: Dean drinks a love potion. Sam is falling apart at the seams because he's been in love with his brother for more than a decade.

keep me in a daydream by according2thelore.

Summary: After an accidental kiss makes a hunt go suspiciously well, Sam and Dean decide to try it again. And again. And again. It's no different from wearing lucky socks, right? A 5 + 1.

for you and me (i got no alibi) by remy.

Summary: There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

Ben Has Two Dads by regala_electra.

Summary: When Ben turns thirteen and learns that Dean Winchester is his father, he runs away to join his father (and uncle). A tale where boys are boys, Vikings are Vikings, unicorns go to Candy Mountains, Dean and Sam are in big gay love, and Ben becomes a Winchester.

Last Temptation by merle_p.

Summary: Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state. Because Sam is quite possibly dying, and there is nothing Dean can do to stop it. Because Sam is dying, and he just. Won’t. Shut. Up.

Five Times Dean Forgot and One Time He Remembered by elsi.

Summary: Rowena warned him the obliviate curse might have “aftershocks.” That Dean could relapse to his amnesiac state without warning—though only temporarily, she assured. But this? This goes beyond calling a lamp a “light stick.”

Whatever It Is by theproblematique.

Summary: Both Sam and Dean get sent to the year 2014.

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too) by TeacupUnicorn.

Summary: Sam and Dean get handcuffed together during a hunt. With a werewolf on their tail and a proximity to each other they haven’t had since they were kids, their unstable relationship is put to the test and their trust in each other is pushed to the limit. Set sometime after 5x16 and before 5x20.

Not Her Sam by Yuval25.

Summary: Future Dean goes back in time to change the future and saves Jess. Future Sam tags along unexpectedly. And Jess is okay. No, seriously. She's fine.

Mistaken For a Couple

101 - mythology by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: As Sam, Dean, and Kali flee Lucifer's slaughter, Kali makes an assumption. The boys try to clear up any misconceptions. They don't do a very good job.

I need you so much closer by cherryvanilla.

Summary: five times they're mistaken for a couple plus one time they actually are.

Domesticity

Paisley by samsexualdeancurious.

Summary: After his mind wall was broken and was healed, Sam knows he can’t be a hunter anymore, so he and Dean retire, and Sam ends up finding a homeless dog who was abused and together they heal.

The Chicago Verse by compo67.

This is a series spanning a whopping 169 fics. I've read only a few of them and I enjoyed Sam and Dean retiring in this town together. It's still updating, looks like, since the latest fic added was in May of this year.

a few things worth saying by hathfrozen.

Summary: “So this morning,” Dean ventures as they blast down the highway in pitch black night toward a probable werewolf case. Sam looks over at him, thin eyebrows raised, eyes clear and calm. He’s not even difficult about it, doesn’t ask what Dean is after, doesn’t deny what had happened. Instead he says, very simply, “I just figure, why lie?” Alright then.

All The Way In by hunters_retreat.

Summary: Sam never did know how exactly it happened. One day, he and Dean were run ragged, exhausted from yet another disaster of a hunt, no money and no gas, no prospects and no allies left alive to give them a hand. The next, they owned a store with a shooting range and Sam was a professor of religious studies at a local community college.

Pre-Series & Season 1

To Blow Against the Wind by dreamlittleyo.

Summary: After Oasis Plains, Sam and Dean can't. Stop. Touching each other.

Star-Crossed by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Before Sam departs for Stanford, he writes a letter to Dean, begging him to come to Palo Alto with him.

Birthday Suit by wincestation.

Summary: On the morning of Dean’s eighteenth birthday, Dad takes him to buy a suit. Sam is… interested.

house song by according2thelore.

Summary: “The werewolf.” Sam says, quick. Hushed. Scared. “I don’t know how. I was—He was standing above you and then he wasn’t. And I think I did that.” Dean keeps whispering stuff to Sam, banal reassurances that Sam soaks up like a sponge, but he feels sick. Sammy did something impossible. Sammy’s been doing impossible things. For years. Or: Pre-Canon/Teen!chesters AU in which Sam develops powers at age eleven, Dean will do anything to protect him, and they have to live with the consequences

Outsider POV

What I've Done by Amoreanonyname.

Summary: He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been.

something you love and understand by monsterq.

Summary: In heaven, Mary makes an unwelcome discovery about her sons’ relationship.

a skeleton terribly restless by remy.

Summary: Mary knows she doesn't fit right in this strange new world she's woken up in, with these grown men masquerading as her sons, but she tries her best. She really does. She closes her eyes to all the things she does not want to see, and she lies to herself until she's convinced. Until she can't.

Flowers on the Window Sill by orphan_account.

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester's relationship as observed by the good people of Star's Hollow.

Soulmates

Fix You by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: After their encounter with Famine, the boys are in dire straits. With Dean left shaken by the horseman's taunts - which rang truer than he'd like to admit - and Sam juiced up on demon blood again, Dean is at a loss. He has no idea how to move forward, or where they're meant to go from here. Then again, they’ve always had each other - perhaps their salvation isn't as far away as it seems.

All Too Familiar by sammichgirl.

Summary: Sam's new hobby has consequences they never saw coming. Turns out, that's OK with Dean after all.

What We Do by BleedingInk.

Summary: Castiel catches Sam and Dean in a compromising position.

since feeling is first by queenklu.

Summary: That he wants to think this is Dean yanking a leash should make his blood run cold, not aching hot. It should make him sick, angry, it should get his fucking hackles up and make him fight. He does want to fight. But there’s a skin-thin line between primal things, and fighting isn’t all he wants to do.

if the dam breaks open many years too soon by deirde_c.

Summary: Sam’s soul springs a leak, and Dean’s the one who can repair it.

In the beached margin of the sea by rivers_bend.

Summary: Sam and Dean black out on a hunt, and when they wake up, Dean's having visions and Sam can't get new, strange feelings out of his head. When John finds out about the side effects, he'll do anything to get rid of the "curse". But Sam and Dean don't want to go back to the way things were before.

I Don't Need A Symbol by amoreanonyname.

Summary: It hadn’t meant that much to Sam at first. A warm glow at being able to do something nice for Dean, to give him something for once, to make him as happy as he seemed when he put it on immediately. It was what it meant to Dean that made it mean something else to Sam.

[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.

[blarshwritezz]

Can I request a yandere mafia boss x fem reader Nsfw where reader just wants to finish her education and get her dream job when the mafia boss asks her out but when she declines so he just makes sure reader will never be accepted back into any universities anywhere or get any jobs ever as a way of showing how well he can "provide"

I'm finally back! probably

Yandere Mafia Boss x Careerwoman Reader

M yan x F reader

TW - manipulation, abuse of power, NSFW, kidnapping

"I'm sorry?" You raised an eyebrow and looked at your dean. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're expelled under the premise of violating this university's code of conduct."

You didn't understand. What did you do? Did you violate some obscure rule that you've never heard of? But that couldn't be! Sure you may have gone against a few small rules every once in a while, but everyone did! You've done nothing to warrant this, you were a model student!

But it looked like there was no hope. You left campus rejected, never to return.

This was truly awful. This was your walk of shame. Your apartment wasn't far, so usually you walked. It was always nice to get some fresh air.

And along your walk, of course you ran into him. You didn't know much about him but he just seemed dangerous. And he seemed to like you.

"Why the long face, darlin'?" He asked, walking alongside you.

You ignored him, hoping to get rid of him. But of course, that didn't work.

"You know, if you were my woman you'd never have bad days. I'd spoil you to no end." He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist, guiding you to walk another direction. You tried to resist, not wanting to deal with him today, but of course he dragged you along anyway.

You didn't have time for this. You had to figure out where to go in life from here. Maybe you could apply to another university? You wouldn't have good enough chances because of this new expulsion on your record. But surely somebody would still take you, right?

So you, of course, struggled and struggled to get out of his grasp, but to no avail. His grip was strong, and only tightened the more you tried to get away. He didn't let go of you for a second. When you got to his luxury car, he even sat you on his lap while he drove. You wanted to get away, but you didn't want to be in a car crash, so tried to stay out of the way.

"If you keep squirming around like that, I might have to pull over and teach you how to be still." His husky voice whispered in your ear. He pulled you tighter against him, something hard rubbing against your thigh. You hoped it was just his phone in his pocket.

As you pulled up to his mansion, your jaw dropped. You knew he was rich, but what was he, a billionaire?! You didn't even know what he did for a living!

While you were gaping at his little home, he took that as an opportunity to carry you inside. Somehow, the inside was even more impressive. You see at you even saw a few servants, but that only made sense for a home of this size.

"You see, this is the kind of life I can give you. All this and more, my darling." His hot breath brushed against your ear as he spoke.

His grip on you only tightened as he carried you up to your room. He's spent so long preparing it just for you. And him too, of course. His woman should have a suitable living space.

And it certainly did not disappoint. It was like your dream room to the max. You even spotted a few items you previously had in your apartment around the room. You were going to ask, but he tossed you on the bed and got on top of you before you had the chance.

You didn't need to know that he had his men break into your apartment and bring everything here while you were being expelled.

"And you know, it's not just luxury I can provide." He grinded against you slowly, his hand cupping your breast. "I can give you more pleasure than you can dream of, you know."

Again, he gave you no time to answer. His lips were immediately on your neck, gently sucking and biting, making you gasp. He was especially hard on your more sensitive areas, making sure to leave as many hickeys as he could.

He groaned as he went lower and your shirt got in the way, annoyed. Damn thing limiting his access to your gorgeous body. So naturally, he ripped it off of you, murmuring that he'd replace it between kisses and bites.

He did the same with your bra, pausing for a moment to stare. This close of a view was way better than spying on you with binoculars.

His mouth soon enveloped one of you sensitive nipples, his hand pinching and playing with the other. He swirled his tongue around then sensitive bud, only spurred on by your pretty whimpers.

He didn't want to leave your breasts, but he just had to. If he wanted to get to his ultimate goal, that is. So his kisses trailer down your stomach, and before he had the chance to be stopped your pants and underwear were already shredded and discarded like your other clothes.

He let put a soft moan when he finally reached your perfect pussy. Fuck, you just tasted to good! Oh and those sounds you made, it was like you wanted this more than he did. And you were already so wet too.

He attached himself to your cute little clit, gently sucking and flicking the bundle of nerves with his tongue as two of his fingers found their place inside your wet hole. He started gently, of course; he didn't want to give you too much at once. Not yet. But soon he couldn't help himself.

His mouth and fingers got rougher, his free hand holding your hip. He was only further encouraged when your thighs wrapped around his head, keeping him trapped against your pussy. He'd gladly eat you put until he suffocates or until you passed out. Whichever happened first.

And he couldn't help but grind into the bed as your fingers found their proper place in his hair. His moans as you made his head move however you wanted vibrated against your lower lips, driving you closer to the edge.

Eventually it was too much. You just had to cum. And he happily lapped up every last drop as you kept his head firmly pressed against you.

"Oh, Darlin'," He groaned, a perverse smile on his face as you finally looked up at him. "You really do make me crazy~"

This was the one that I apparently forgot to save so most of it got deleted a while back lol

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it (rewrite) — sam and dean winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, barely different from the original but slightly adjusted to fix some canon details i got wrong and adjust to my changed perspective of the whole purgatory situation, sam and dean did reader wrong, swearing, arguments, crying, nicknames (kid, kiddo, honey, sweetheart), 4.1K words.

summary : since dean disappeared, sam has been distant. when he calls you and you find out dean's back, you also find out that both of your older brother's have been lying to you.

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

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, and hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been who knows where and presumed dead, for the last year or so. the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easily, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hi” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“where… dean, where were you? i mean, i tried– i tried everything, i looked everywhere,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected, given your brothers. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– i’ll explain it to you later. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask, voice tired and bordering on distressed, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean what– what’s up with that?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows strained.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. 

“well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did nothing?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes. okay, listen, i’m sorry i lied to you. but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for dean and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted. and–” you pause a moment, purposefully not looking at dean. “and it’s not– not bad that you got that, sam, all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies more like you think,” your voice takes a scathing edge, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s does his best to make his interruption gentle, though he’s not the best at hiding his frustrations sometimes. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, ignoring your oldest brother, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” 

a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?”

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry. i really am.” he looks sorry, and sad, like this is the opposite of what he wanted. under your anger, you know it’s true that he never wanted this. you know that sam thinks people are better off distant from him. but it hurts that he let you be one of those people.

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill as your composure slips further and further. “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that. but you keep going, your voice quieter now, harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. we’ll talk about this later, you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. he tried, the way he thought was right, but he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did.”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i swear i’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really? you gonna tell me you came back from wherever the hell you were without a soul next? where– where even were you?” you ask shrilly.

you’ve beat him too. “sweetheart,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay? i– i was in purgatory. i can explain the rest later.”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you cry out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me. three months…”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay. i’m here now,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the ways you were hurt. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’ve got you, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean leads you to a foreign room and foreign bed, and you sink down onto the edge of it. sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you cave to your exhaustion, climbing all the way into the bed. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, not wanting to look them or your remaining problems and anger in the face.but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline. he lingers at the doorway before

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.