#spn poor writing

[starnana7]

kinda insane that sam was literally the protagonist in the first seasons just to end up being totally useless and losing all his characters depths in the laters seasons. i mean to be fair they did mess up all characters and the whole show in the final but what they did to sam especially never ceases to amaze me (in a bad way lol) like they really fumbled that bag huh.. dean just took control of the whole series (and it’s okay it makes sense that the spotlight would change between the brothers) but sam was pretty much a side character in the end. how do you end up being the protagonist to some sidekick in your own show?!! and if it was just him being “less relevant” ok ig but his personality, his development, everything, it was so ooc and so shallow yk i used to watch supernatural for the sibling bond in the first seasons and that just become so lost in the end.. alongside with sam

(btw this is not a sam hate post i just Hate what the Writers did to him yk i really miss s1-2 sammy like that was my boy)

[supernotnatural2005]

A Welcomed Distraction

Parings: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Torn between assisting the brother's coping mechanisms admits Chuck's warpath, Dean is quick to remind you who's the right choice.

Warnings: Fluff, Clingy Dean, Smutty themes (18+ ONLY!!)

AN: Just a little something that had been a WIP and finally got round to finishing lol 😅 i hope you all enjoy!

Masterlist

“Hey, Y/N/N’s!”

You come to a halt a few steps past Dean’s room at the sound of him calling out to you. You backtrack the couple of steps you’d taken and push his half-closed door fully open, smirking in amusement at the sight before you.  Dean is sprawled out on his front on the bed, his body propped up by his pillows, facing the TV you’d helped set up for him a few months ago.“What’s up?” You ask, glancing with a raised brow between him and the TV, which released a bloodcurdling scream.  “Hatchet Man marathon.” He explains with a chuckle, and you make a sound of disgust, accompanied by an eye roll.  “Hey, don’t crap on Hatchet man. It’s a classic.”  “Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre are classics.” You reel off with a count of your fingers. “Don’t taint good cinema horror with Hatchet man.” You mockingly scold, making him look even more offended.

“Now what did you want, Winchester?” You ask with a hand on your hip. 

You’d already promised Sam you’d help him with research on finding something to kill God with. Yeah, your already complicated life had become even more messy.

Whereas Sam scoured the internet and rummaged through the dusty archives looking for a way to stop God and his genocidal warpath on mankind, Dean had taken a completely different approach and sunk into a kind of defeated depression. So it had been up to you to help the younger Winchester, as of late.  However, you felt torn in half trying to appease both of them. Between helping Sam with research and making sure your boyfriend didn’t drink himself to death, you were exhausted.  “Not your hostility, that’s for sure.” Dean snarks, though there is a slight smirk on his lips. You chuckle and walk further into the room, coming to stand at the foot of his bed. “Fancy joining? And before you say no, I’ll even be nice and let you pick something else.” He interrupts you before you could protest.

You almost cave at the hopeful look on his stupidly handsome face. Instead you sigh, more so in remorse because you’d rather do nothing more. 

“I can’t. I promised your brother I’d help him with research.” You tell him guiltily, and he lets out a huff.

“You two are always researching lately; is there something more going on there that I should know about?”  Instead of dignifying that hideous accusation with an answer, you lean down to smack his arm, which was a rookie mistake as he anticipates your attack and pulls you down onto the bed with him instead. You yelp in surprise and grunt at the impact, but before you can react, his lips are pressing to yours. 

Your surprised squeak is drowned out by the soft press of his pillowy lips, and by default, your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the feeling. With his large palm framing your cheek, fingers nestled deeply into your newly mused locks, he pulls away to stare down at you with a cheeky grin.

“You’re an asshole.” You mutter, albeit a little breathlessly, realising his intentions. Laughter erupts from Dean, laughter you hadn’t heard in a while, and you can’t help the fond smile upon hearing the sweet sound.

“You know I’m kidding. I appreciate you trying to be there for the both of us.” He admits honestly, a more adoring look crossing his features as his thumb gently glides back and forth across your cheekbone. Your hand slides up to join his on your cheek, and you smile lovingly up at him.  “I just wish he didn’t hog you so much.” He murmurs as he makes his descent to kiss at your jaw, your neck, taking his time to nibble and suck at your sweet spot when you can’t help but sigh in pleasure. Your hands automatically slide up his neck and into his hair, grasping onto the soft strands as his warm tongue glides over your pulse point, making you shiver.  “Didn’t peg you as the clingy type, Winchester.” You tease, though it comes out more of a moan as his lips and teeth tug at your earlobe, setting your nerve endings alight. You arch up into him, desperately craving friction against your rapidly dampening core. Dean pulls away then and grins down at you. 

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.” You mumble before pulling him down by the collar of his shirt, claiming his lips in a heated kiss, too desperate to tease anymore. Dean quickly melts into it, moaning as your tongue slips past his lips. He secretly loved it when you got desperate and clingy; it only fuelled his desire. He nudges your legs apart and nestles comfortably between them, experimentally rolling his hips and making you gasp and break away from his mouth. Your hands slide down his toned, solid back toward his perky ass, and with a cheeky smile of your own and with a firm grasp, you pull his hips back into yours again. Both of you groaning at the friction this time. 

Dean begins a steady roll of his hips and leans down to claim your lips again, this time more insistent and devouring, leaving your lungs burning and core pulsing with desire. You moan into the kiss at the feel of his hand slipping under your top, his exploration purposeful and intentional on its ascent. His deft fingers slip under the cup of your bra, and he takes your full breast in his large palm, massaging the tender flesh as his lips begin trailing across your jaw and down the length of your neck. 

Your fingers are quick to slip into his neatly styled spikes, musing them in every which way as he sucks at your sweet spot. You sigh and thrust your hips up into his, feeling the solid length of him straining against his zipper. The friction between your bodies is both not enough but also just right. 

“Shit.” You moan, so lost in the feeling of him, you hadn’t realised his lips had navigated to your exposed breast until he was sucking the perked bud into his mouth. His tongue is warm and wet as it swirls around your nipple, the sensation shooting straight to your cunt. As if he knew what you needed, because of course he did. Dean knew your body as well as he knew his beloved Baby. He’d worked on you comparably more and just as thoroughly. His free hand quickly unbuttons your jeans before his long, thick digits slip under both fabrics, all the while his mouth remains latched to your chest. 

You release the longest sigh of relief as soon as his digits make contact with your throbbing clit. His deep groan of approval at the dampness he discovers there, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck. You’re soaked, baby.” Dean praises as he rises on his elbow, hovering above you as his fingers begin to circle your bundle of nerves. You keen at the feeling, your hips rising on their own accord, pressing further into his hand to seek more. 

Dean smirks pridefully, but lust burns in his gaze as he watches what his touch does to you. The sweet sounds he pulls from you, all of it shooting straight to his cock. You rise up and claim his lips once more just as his middle finger dips into your soaked hole. Your hips roll in a steady rhythm, your clit brushing his palm with each movement, setting your nerve endings on fire. 

It still astonished you how quickly Dean could have you crumbling in a matter of seconds. His mouth, his touch, his attention direly distracting. It was both a gift and a curse. For instance, you had completely forgotten what it was you were supposed to be doing before you had entered his room. That is until that reason walked in.  “Y/N? You in he—oh, whoa! Sam exclaims and quickly turns away from the compromising position you and Dean were in.  “Shit.” You mutter and shuffle from under Dean, who takes the hint and shifts his weight off of you. “Sam, I’m sorry. I was coming.” You shoot Dean a look at his snicker at your poor choice of words, and he quickly silences. “Your brother is a menace.” You add pointedly for payback.

“Hey!” Dean complains, not appreciating your name-calling. You ignore him and quickly right yourself and fix your askew clothing just as Sam wearily peeks over his shoulder, fully turning around when he sees you both had separated and were less dishevelled.

“Actually, I was just coming to tell you not to worry now. Elaine is free tonight.” Sam explains and gives you an uncomfortable smile.  “Oh.” Is all you can form and meet Dean’s enlightened expression at the news?

“Well, that’s great, Sam.” Dean begins and rises from his spot on the bed. “Tell Elaine we said hi.” He adds with a wide grin as he wraps his arms around you and begins tugging you back towards the bed.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Sam stumbles and quickly evacuates the room just as you let out a squeal and the sound of the bed-frame creaking under the sudden weight of you both. Sam was quick to make his exit before any other noises, more scarring, traumatising ones, spilt from his brother's room.

AN: I hope you guys enjoy this little spicy once shot! 😜 Again I have a habit of making poor Sam the unintentional cockblock lol 😂 But I'm just going through all my WIP's (there's a lot 😅) and finally finish them. But let me know what you think! And I hope you enjoy.

[cinnamonanddean]

Foaming at the mouth over this CBR article about Lex. Usually their takes are pretty bad, but this is essentially everything we all scream about all day.

[castielatry]

happy destiel wedding anniversary to all whom celebrate. this is the poem I wrote for @destielvalentineszine2025 and its abt how cas is down bad. and also living past your myth and how to love someone is to brave the grave anew each day

[soulmates-for-real-tranquility]

05x12

[onthewaytosomewhere]

🍵 and/or 🧹 please 🫶🏻

🍵 dark n cozy all night spn coffee shop were!alex vamp!hen def need to fuck it out

“Percy Okonjo, the owner of this fine establishment, you happened to stumble in on one of the nights we cater to the beings of the city; of course, that now includes you. Welcome to the club. You can call me Pez.” Alex takes the hand Pez extended toward him and shakes it; he expected it to feel colder; that’s what all the lore said, right, cold to the touch or something like that. “Why is your hand not cold? I thought it was supposed to be cold.” Alex’s brain catches up with his mouth. “I’m so sorry that was so rude. Please forget I said that.”

🧹 seeking the (sex) services of a witch (so many for this one and so much writing on one i need to get done)

“I think I have a sex curse?” “I’m sorry, you have a what?” “I think I’ve been cursed, and it’s affecting my ability to perform sex acts? Even just kissing no longer works for me.” “I’m afraid to ask, but … in what way?” Alex tells Henry all about the woman who hit on him repeatedly and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He tells Henry all about the last time it happened and how she seemed to mutter something under her breath about how if he wouldn’t so much as kiss her, he must be waiting for his true love, and the rush of something, maybe it was magic, that rushed over him.

this weekend you can also

✨MAKE ME WRITE✨

[laurelwinchester]

my problem as a dean stan who loves emma and all the potential she had is that while there is a lot of fic content out there........y’all are writing dean wrong.

[roastedsoup]

ok real talk what makes the later seasons "bad"? i keep seeing people saying stuff like "back when it was good...." and such, does the writing get worse or something

okokok tbh im gonna be real the writing does eventually start to go downhill bc the show’s longevity causes it so suffer from dragon ball type power scaling where its like “ok so we defeated the mega evil monster guy but turns out theres an even worse evil monster guy who they need the ultimate destruction weapon to defeat” and over time we know so much about this world we lose the sense of mystery it used to have; it gets kind of obvious over time that the writers just don’t know what to do with the plot anymore and they start making up the wackiest shit; and with the characters like they keep trying to come up with new conflicts between them and it starts to get repetitive

like the early show has this charm to it, there are less characters so the brothers’ relationship is much more central to the plot, you can tell that there’s this story mapped out and once you get past where it was meant to end, things just feel less thought out and cohesive; it gets so large-scale it begins to feel like a completely different story

but at the same time as much as the later show is mind boggling there are still some plot points/characters that are worth watching it for; i went into this show aware that it starts off amazing and gets worse over time and i think if you keep in mind not to take it too seriously it can still be enjoyable?? supernatural is equal parts genuinely engaging television and the most insane wild nightmare thing to exist

also i’m hopelessly hyperfixated on this show and more content means more content so i don’t feel that i’m going to stop watching

[icefire149]

@angelinthefire tagged me and THANK YOU <333 (You caught me at a good night where I was on my computer so I can do this now. I love doing these. (I'm not gonna think about the 100 tabs open on my phone))

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

The Love That Binds Us

The Boiling Isles were not how they left it. The stars dotting the night sky were oddly brighter than they were before. It was enough that they could tell several pieces of the Titan’s bones had been torn from the land and suspended into the air at varying heights.

2. Beneath the Endless Water

Willow opened her eyes and she was back again in that graveyard. Her tongue felt heavy and knotted in her mouth. She hated sleeping these days, because this moment kept haunting her.

3. Boyfriend Training

The basement door opened a crack, and then slowly swung open with a loud squeak. Hunter’s feet froze in place and he motioned for Vee to remain silent.

4. Palistrom Heart

Slowly, Hunter began regaining control of his senses. He floated in between the place where dreams beckoned him back beneath their endless weight and where reality mercilessly called him home.

5. Children Of The Witches You Couldn’t Kill

The sun wasn't supposed to do that.

6. A Golden Crown

Gus slapped a hand to the side of the airship entrance and leaned heavily on it. Sweat dripped down his nose and his knees wobbled with exhaustion. “She…she wanted to protect you. And Eda.”

7. World's Apart

Willow flopped back into her pillows and waited for Hunter’s response on penstagram. She huffed, and a stray strand of hair landed annoyingly across her nose. Glancing at her scroll again, there were still three dots blinking at her. How is he still typing?

8. He's Nice

“Did you hear a single thing I said?...Willow?”

9. Home

When Dean was a kid, he would often raid the bakery at the supermarket. If he was lucky, he’d be granted the holy grail of baked goods hidden among the discount display. There would be pie!

10. Like the Fairy Tales

“Hey, we got a problem.”

Rowena rolled her eyes and leaned back in her arm chair. Until the phone rang, she had been enjoying a rare afternoon at home with her favorite blend of tea and a new journal to fill. She sighed loudly.

“It’s never a ’how do you do, Rowena? ’Or a ’thank you so much for the gracious help you provided on the case. Do you need a restock on any of your fine herbs?’ Instead it’s always help, help, help.” She snapped her fingers for added emphasis.

Tagging: Honestly, anyone who wants to do this PLEASE DO. Let me know. Tag me.

Unfortunately, I've been really busy the past several months with life and work, so I haven't been keeping up with who's actively writing fics these days. I have so many things to catch up on. (So if you tag me, I WILL bookmark it and get to it.)

[quietwingsinthesky]

I had a dream where I opened my tumblr ask box and the first thing in it was an anon prompt that said “BradyRuby fake dating AU” and so you can thank dream anon for prompting this, I guess.

[mirainawen]

chasm, straw in the wind, and crooked storm on carson pass

chasm.

summary: rising from the dead is practically another tuesday for winchesters. a milligan, however…

it immediately follows getting garth'd. sam and dean went off grid after the trials to allow sam time to heal and dean time to nurse his regrets. the two are on the rocks after dean's stunt with gadreel, not the least of reasons why being gadreel's attempt on kevin's life (an angel of the lord is supposed to protect a prophet of the lord, so the attack awoke another latent power of prophets, smiting).

finding out that their long locked up half-brother is topside again is somehow the best and last thing the two of them need right now. the chasm, as they say, isn't fixed yet.

Dean stares across the room, index finger tapping the table—one, two, three, an unconscious mimicry of the clock. The ticking was the only other sound in the room.

“Okay,” he finally says, letting his hand fall. Sam stirs at his voice. “Walk me through it again.”

Benny doesn’t sigh. His expression says it, loud and clear. “Story ain’t gonna change, Dean.”

He glances at Sam, who, arms braced on his knees and hands clasped, lets his shoulders rise heavily and fall under the look. The lines around his eyes and mouth are deep again, and not just from the lack of sleep. The knife’s edge they’d all been balanced on was crawling down their spines.

He leans away from it. “So you’re sayin’ Adam…what? Just waltzes outta the cage, takes a little jaunt through hell til he finds an exit and just…stumbles into the only monster in all of Purgatory who isn’t gonna tear him limb from limb on sight?”

Benny’s lip curls in the shadow of a smile. “Looks like it.”

::

straw in the wind.

summary: there's a crack in sam's glass house. (adam's on the warpath.)

concussed after a particularly bad exorcism, sam speaks to adam about the cage for the first time. he implies that adam doesn't quite...fit with him and dean. that adam's not relentless or aggressive enough to make a good hunter, unaware not being okay with sam tends to push adam over the edge. thus pushed, adam goes on a reckless hunting spree (affectionately termed the "fuck you sam tour" by writer and captive audience of a bff who must be hit by ideas thrown her way until she cries "ow!"). distracted by sam, dean doesn't put the pieces together about a "hunter off the rails" and adam's (not...atypical) radio silence. when garth finally calls dean to "come get your boy", sam and dean hit the road to find him and talk him down off the ledge. sam makes an old yeller reference. dean hears the first distant sounds of sirens.

“Dean?” he called, but there’s no answer. He could try his other brother…other brother? Adam. Right. It was about Adam. He was gonna tell Dean something about Adam, it was…they needed to tell Adam something. He groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Connecting the threads of his thinking lately had been a killer. The pieces often had sharp edges, slipping through his grasp. Getting this far hurt like a bitch. The meds couldn’t kick in fast enough. But when they did, he didn’t really think any clearer, just hurt a little less. He clung to  the pieces, finding his phone in hand.

Call Adam. Adam hated that. Couldn’t be bothered to answer texts. Everything was always on his terms. Sam hated that.

“Sam?” Adam’s voice sounded…surprised? Maybe a little worried. Definitely a bit distracted.

“Hey. Adam.” Those two words felt like they took a lungful each.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah?” He pressed the heel of his hand to his head, fighting back the dizzying little edges of light dancing about his peripheral.

Adam hissed. “Well it’s not like you call. Why are you calling?” The demand annoyed him.

He huffed a sound that takes all the air out of his lungs again. “Because you…don’t want us to.” It was like, one of so many rules Sam did not understand.

“Cause Winchesters only call when they need something.”

The implication irritated him further. “Okay, well, I need to tell you something.”

“If it’s that Dean is overbearing, he’s your favorite brother, Sam, I don’t want to hear it. Why’d you crack your skull open anyway?”

He opened his mouth, and yanked the phone away as a messy, confusing sound crackled over the line. He forgets the line of questioning as bright spots dance behind his eyes.

“Sam?” Adam’s voice broke back through. “I’m really busy. Can we not play-at happy family right now? I’m sure Dean will be overjoyed to make sure you have company while you recover.”

::

crooked storm on carson pass.

summary: accused of a crime he didn't commit, joe wiles his time in a carson pass jail while adam tries to prove his innocence. at every turn, the local sheriff seems to be one step ahead. has adam finally met his match?

“JOE!” He barked, causing Joe to jerk clean out of the bed, rolling off onto his back in a graceless heap.

Joe groaned and touched the back of his head as he half-sat up. “Galldang you, Adam,” he protested mulishly, peering at his brother in rebuke. “What’s the big idea, huh?” He prodded at his head and winced.

“Well, Joe, that’s what I’d like you to tell me.” Adam gestured at himself before folding his arms and peering down at his brother.

Joe groaned again as he sat up, and glanced at his brother under knotted brows. “Well maybe you should tell me - you’re so smart.” Which was Joe’s way of saying he didn’t appreciate Adam’s tone of voice.

“Then I will.” Adam shot back, censure bordering on condescending in that way that was Adam’s of saying that Joe was in for a lecture. “You’re supposed to be in Zephyr Cove.”

This time when Joe groaned it was pure frustration. “Yes, well, obviously I’m not.” He threw out a hand, encompassing the jail, and climbed to his feet. “So go ahead. Lecture away, Older Brother - I don’t really have any other option, do I?”

And maybe it was the set of Joe’s jaw or the fact that he was so mulish, standing there framed by cell bars with the bed clothes piled about his feet, but Adam found he derived no pleasure from fighting with someone who couldn’t fight back. And Joe loved to fight back.

If anyone had ever pointed out to Adam that Joe did follow his examples, he would have argued the opposite - but if someone had ever pointed out that Joe had learned how to argue with authority from watching Adam argue with their father, he would have stormed away in a speechless rage.

[cinnamonanddean]

See I think what would have worked better for both Lionel and Lex's characters would have been if Lionel had genuinely tried to dissuade Lex from the path he was on, from a place of understanding. I get that Lex can't be redeemed; that he's doomed by the narrative to become Superman's adversary. BUT I think it would have led more credence to Lionel's redemption AND to Lex's downfall.

Like the whole Julian cloning thing: it's fucked up. But Lionel facilitated the cloning of a murderous ten year old who tried to kill multiple people. Lex cloned his little brother and got him a job at the Daily Planet. These are not the same crime. And what does post-redemption Lionel do? Calls Lex deplorable. Bruh. How about "Lex, I know you're suffering and you feel alone in the world and you thought this would solve the problem. I understand why you would think that. But here's why it's wrong." But no: he goes "Welp, my own son is a lost cause. Let's divert all my attention to the being I built a literal cage to contain in case he's evil instead."

Give me a man who has done evil, horrible things, has had a life-changing experience and seen the light, and then meets the child who is following his path with love and empathy. "Lex, I know WHY you're doing these things, I thought the same way, but here's where I went wrong and so will you, if you continue". I don't feel like anyone really tried to empathize with Lex once he started slipping, they just condemned him.

AND THEN, when Lex stays on his narrative path and refuses to change, it gives that more weight as well. When someone is being met with love and understanding and still goes ahead and does bad things - well, there's your villain. One with depth. One who just can't forgive or get over what's been done to him. That makes him way more nuanced and interesting, to me at least. AND Lionel too. Lionel's redemption arc in the show falls flat for me because it's so self-serving. He isn't trying to help Lex, or even Clark really. He's out for himself.

[captain-sodapop]

I’m bored, so I am going to add to this spn class discourse with the following:

It is absolutely true that the Winchesters grew up poor. Nobody is disputing that. We don’t see a lot of them struggling with it in the show - throwaway lines about having to hustle to eat, occasionally sleeping in the Impala (though we do most often see them in motels before the bunker), etc. - but as someone pointed out, as a struggle, it’s not a primary focus.

I know people are pointing out that Kripke said that the brothers are blue collar and hunting is their “job”, but really, that’s not exactly correct if we want to be accurate here. For starters, they don’t get paid, so it’s not a job. It’s vigilante shit. They’re self-appointed (or Chuck-appointed, if you want to get into the whole, Chuck-was-writing-a-story-the-whole-time bit, which I’d say Is worthwhile to point out) supernatural law enforcers, essentially. But they’re not actual, paid law enforcement. So it’s not actually a job. Also, Kripke can be wrong. He was certainly wrong about male sexual assault being funny, so.

“Black collar” does seem to be a term, though it appears to be more colloquial in nature and doesn’t have as many references as white or blue collar. It seems to refer to “unreported employment”, or illegal work done without reporting to the government for tax payment. And Sam and Dean definitely aren’t paying taxes.

However, as we learn at the end of the show, Charlie gave them some hacked credit card that always works. It’s always good. They don’t have to hustle anymore, they can just use the card and they have unlimited cash. So they aren’t paying taxes, their pockets are bottomless…it’s a billionaire’s wet dream. Until their luck gets fucked up, they are doing just fine financially. More than fine. Someone did point out that having a blue collar job does not equal poor, same as a white collar job does not equal rich; it’s the nature of the work that gets the designation. Secretarial work is white collar work. That doesn’t mean the secretary is loaded. A lot goes into a person’s financial situation in relation to so many things. So, to the person who said they’re an economist and pronounced Sam and Dean as blue collar: it sounds a lot like you’re equating being blue collar with being poor, buddy.

So, I mean…if Sam and Dean aren’t getting paid, and they aren’t paying taxes, and they don’t report any earnings to the government because they don’t have any, and the job they have isn’t actual law enforcement, and the way they get money by the end of the show isn’t by hustling, card games, or odd jobs but instead by a hacked credit card with unlimited money…it really isn’t wholly accurate to call them blue collar. It’s obviously not some huge crime to call them blue collar offhandedly, but I do think the black collar moniker fits much better. They are making money through illicit means, and are performing a job that doesn’t exist as a paid position, and are doing it under the cloak of darkness because as we know from the show, when what they do is discovered by the general population, they get arrested…for crimes. Including credit card fraud, which is - you guessed it - generally considered a white collar crime.

Also, because this came up for some reason: sure, I bet Dean has eaten women out. I don’t see what that has to do with money, but I will say that eating a woman out doesn’t make someone a feminist, either. So. Yeah.

[via-l0ve]

Hey-hey!! I'm so glad I came across your posts on SPN!!

Let's imagine that the reader has severe menstrual pain. I'd like to see the boys take care of her during "those days". If possible, add Gabriel, I love him soooo much.

Period Pains (SPN pref!)🩷

a/n: hi honey!!! i absolutely adore this request. from someone with terrible periods, im sending you hugs and kisses

warnings: periods/menstrual cycle, mention of pain, cramps and things like that!!

Dean:

dean is scared

idk at first he thought you were gonna die

he was so scared when you curled yourself up in a little ball

he learned to just go with whatever you wanted

cuddles? always. stay the fuck away from you? gladly

literally ask him for anything he will be out and grabbing it for you within two minutes.

he’s always stocked with products for you

he also always has heating pads and medicine for you. he’s so worried about your health

he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

he makes you stay in bed and no hunts until the bleeding stops

he gets you presents

—

Sam:

sam has a whole bag for you

emergency pads, tampons, extra underwear, medicine

he gets nervous

is ALWAYS right by your side

floods you with compliments and worries

“are you going to be okay?” “yes sam. just like every other month.”

“you’re so pretty, y/n.”

just. ugh. i love him

he will go out and buy you pads or tampons or cups or whatever the fuck you use with no shame

he tries to not make you mad or overwhelm you

he always takes off hunts to be with you

what a cute boy <3

he just wants the best for you

—

Castiel:

first of all, cas is horrified that you have to go through this

when you explain in detail why you get cramps, he swears he almost passes out

poor boy is so worried about his love

he tracks it on his phone

just so he can stock up on products for you

he writes you love letters and buys you candy

he also will watch all of your silly little movies with you

you don’t ever have to ask

—

Gabe:

Gabe is always tryna make you laugh

he’s very ill prepared and he dosent know what to do

he annoys you accidentally a lot and then gets scared when you yell/cry/other emotions

he buys you flowers for every day of your period

he also learned somewhere that orgasms help lessen the pain of period cramps so..

aaaaaanyways

he watches your movies with you and cooks food you for constantly

he cried with you at bambi

“the mom dies????”

“Y/N WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME WATCH THIS?”

[jasmines-library]

Hey I don't know if you've ever done a Winchester!sister story with the sister being really young and also much younger then her brothers, so I don't know if you would be able to do this request for me but I really hope you can:)

Anyway the request is 2 year old reader wakes her brothers up by crying and they get up and find her in her crib her onsie pajamas buttons is open as if she tried to get rid of it and then when Dean picks her up he feels the heat radiating from her.

Both Dean and Sam know they have to take care of the situation. Dean takes her temperature, and they find out she is sick and they take care of her and so on and so on. This is just a type of summary so you can change things as much as you like. I love a good fluff and angst story;)

Loveee your writing and can't wait for this story❤️❤️❤️

Sick Bug

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Summary: When you wake up feeling sick, your big brothers are there to help make you feel better.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sickness

Exciting sidenote: I am 2 followers away from 1K!!

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You were crying again. Poor baby had been restless all day, tossing and turning as if you were trying to escape a force that wasn’t there. At first your brothers thought you were just over tired: the three of you had been on the road all day. Travelling with a toddler was dangerous business, so Sam and Dean tried not to do it often, but with Cas MIA and Bobby out of town they were left with no choice.

They had lay you down to rest not too long ago, but you had been restless since then. You had protested being put to bed in the first place, clinging to Dean with your little hands but after some coaxing he had managed to get you to sleep. That and you were absolutely exhausted and struggling to keep your little eyes open.

Then your eyes had come flying open and your little whimpers filled the room. You were too hot and felt like you were going to suffocate as your squirmed, trying your unbutton your pyjamas. Your head ached and your sinuses were uncomfortably blocked, throwing you off balance.

Dean rose slowly from his slumber, altered by your cries. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he made his way to your crib where you were sat up trying to struggle out of your onesie. Sam rolled over to glance at your from his bed. He hadn’t really been sleeping, but seeing as Dean had made his way over to you he didn’t feel the need to.

“What’s the matter, huh sweetheart?” Dean frowned as he reached out to pick you up. Your arms reached out instinctively to grab him as you continued to cry.

The second you were in Deans arms he became increasingly worried about the warmth that radiated off of you and he shot a look to Sam who, at his brothers concerning lack of speech, clambered out of bed and moved cumbersomely towards you.

You buried your face into the crook of Deans’s neck trying to hide from the ache. His skin provided some relief and you sniffled. Dean further furrowed his brow. Your skin was hot. Too hot.

“Sweetheart?” Dean tried to coax your face away from his neck. He brushed away the stray hairs that your cold flush of sweat had plastered to the edge of your face before pressing his palm to your forehead. “She’s warm, Sammy.”

“You feeling poorly, kiddo?” Sam asked, taking you from Deans arms. You clung to him closely and nodded feebly.

Dean moved quickly towards the first aid kit, rummaging around for the thermometer as Sam bounced you up and down gently in his arms to try and soothe you a little. The eldest Winchester’s movements were somewhat panicked as he pulled out the glass cylinder.

“Alrighty sweetheart, open up.” He tried to persuade you to place the tube under your tongue. When you finally stopped trying to turn your tired face away and they had convinced you to hold it in your mouth for long enough, Sam pulled out to reveal that the line had skyrocketed to 101.

“Fever.” Sam confirmed, showing his brother the thermometer. He shifted you in his arms. “Explains why she can’t sleep.”

Suddenly you were overtaken by a fit of harsh, dry coughs that tore through you. Sam winced, rubbing you back gently.

“S’mmy…” you blubbered gripping his shirt tightly.

“Shh. It’s alright sweetheart we’ve got you.” Sammy moved over to the bed, still cradling you in his arms. He looked up at Dean. Realistically he knew that you would be fine, but he had never dealt with anything like this before and it worried him.

Dean on the other hand knew how to handle the situation. He had dealt with Sammy being ill plenty of times when he was younger. But when he looked at your flushed and sweaty cheeks and the way your body shivered ever so slightly, he couldn’t help but feel awful. As though he should have found someone to take care of you instead. But watching you curled up in his brother’s arms he realised he had more pressing matters to worry about.

Moving back to the first aid box, he pulled out a dose of medicine, cursing silently when you were overrun by another coughing fit. It was followed by another whimper. Sam slowly removed the outer layer of your onesie hoping that he could cool you down quicker. Still you clung to him closely, too young to understand that you might get him sick as you sniffled against him, but Sam didn’t care. He would risk being sick if it meant taking away your pain.

“Here we go sweetheart.” Dean wandered back over, a cool glass of water on one hand and a medicine in the other: one of those small sachets that they kept on hand in case of emergencies. “This will help you feel all better.” He promised.

Reaching out you held onto the cup, and with Deans help took a few sips. The icy water soothed the back of your throat and you sighed in content, setting back into Sam a little. It took a little more convincing for you to take the medicine. Tired and overwhelmed you had tried to refuse the bitter taste. But in the end Sam had promised you that you would feel much better if you took it, so reluctantly you let the liquid slide over your tongue.

It wasn’t long after that that you began to grow tired. Your little eyes struggled to stay awake as you lay curled up in Sam’s lap. Dean had perched beside him, watching shitty cartoons to help keep him awake so he could monitor your temperature in case you got any worse. Though as your ragged breaths evened out into tiny half-snores, the medicine seemed to be doing its job as your temperature seemed to slowly fall back down to a slightly more normal number.

At some point, Sam had also fallen asleep. Rubbing circles on your back and smoothing over your hair had lulled him into slumber. Dean smirked and pulled the bedcovers over the two of you. It looked like you weren’t going back to your bed tonight.

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SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr

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@inlovewhithafairytale

@harleycao

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[milkb0nny]

Ethereal Vulnerability

... Dean and Sam on their way to save you

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader

Summary: You grew up poor and alone, forcing you into the horrible red light district. However, your services were darker than the usual stuff, and lately your colleagues went missing. It only took a booking for two men to save you from being next.

Note: I was heavily inspired by the movie „Sleeping Beauty“. It has such an interesting plot and I loved the eerie vibe. This might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Still, I hope the few of you will enjoy this! If this gets a good reception, I’ll write a 2nd chapter.

Content: reader being sex worker, sleeping pills, getting drugged, spn violence, angst, disturbing content

Word count: 1,2k

Another day, another forced shift.

Another day where men exploited women’s bodies, wielding their money as a weapon of control. You despised the system, but there was no room to complain as you depended on that same system for survival. For money, which you needed so desperately.

This here was a cruel structure that demanded obedience from young souls, only to discard them when they were used up or gone entirely. And worst: no one cared about them.

No one cared about you.

You stepped into the motel, offering a polite nod to the secretary while avoiding the missing persons flyers plastered on the reception desk. Six women. Six lives snuffed out, their bodies never found. As if they had simply vanished into thin air. The media ignored it, and the authorities seemed indifferent.

Who cared, after all? They were only prostitutes in the eyes of the world.

And you were stuck in this helpless situation with no one to guide you into safety or a usual life.

Despite the fear that you could be next, you continued working. Rent was due. Food was scarce. Death seemed inevitable either way, so you clung to the fragile hope that you’d survive just one more day. Maybe a rich man would adopt you - or maybe you’d get a big tip for your extraordinary “work“.

“Here you go,” the secretary said, sliding something under the glass partition. “Two men booked you for the whole night.”

You nodded, pocketing the room keys and picking up the small cup containing two familiar pills. The bitterness of the sleeping tablets didn’t faze you anymore. You were used to the dreamless nights, to the numb void that came with them.

Still, it never stopped being unsettling.

You’d sleep through it all.

But maybe it was a blessing: not seeing their faces, not feeling their hands on your sorry body and not hearing the things they would say about you. This was the only business letting women sleep through, advertising to a certain masculine fetish.

“Thank you,” you replied with a small smile, taking the items.

The secretary hesitated, her expression tinged with guilt. “Be careful, love.”

“I will.” You forced another smile before heading to the changing room.

The other women were already there, each one stunning in their own way. No flaws, no imperfections. The only requirement to work here was to embody an impossible ideal: flawless beauty, free of scars, blemishes, or even a stray hair. You were all gems, polished to perfection in the dirtiest setting imaginable.

You changed into the white lingerie, adjusting it to hug your curves just right. After fixing your makeup and offering yourself a final look in the mirror, you sighed deeply. Fear clawed at the edges of your mind, but you steeled yourself with a faint hope… you just had to make it through the night.

The room was surprisingly luxurious, a contrast to the grim reality outside. Warm lights bathed the space in a soft glow, and the bed was adorned with blankets that felt like clouds. This level of comfort was a cruel irony, considering the cost that came with it.

You sat on the edge of the bed, swallowed the pills in one go, and slipped under the covers. It wasn’t long before the drugs pulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The door opened quietly sometime later, two figures slipping inside. They moved with practiced precision, shutting the door softly behind them.

“Man, this is one hell of a weird gig,” Dean muttered, glancing around the room with a mixture of unease and frustration.

„You’re not wrong,” Sam agreed, his gaze settling on your sleeping form. “She’s completely out of it. Has no idea what’s going on.”

A heavy silence hung between them, tinged with disgust - not at you, but at the circumstances.

“We’ll take this bastard down without her even knowing,” Dean said, circling the bed to get a better look at you. “After this, the girls around here should be safe… well, from monsters, anyway.”

He stared down at you, his jaw tightening. How could someone so beautiful, so full of life, end up in a situation like this? He hated the world that had left you with no other choice. It felt as if he was glancing at a doll, not a human.

An hour passed as they waited, watching the shadows lengthen across the room. They pitied your job and chatted a little about it, while Dean didn’t even to bother touching you in any way. Your soul had been tarnished enough.

After another five minutes, Dean sat tensely by the bed, while Sam stepped out to execute their plan. He told the secretary he was grabbing something from the car, leaving Dean to hold down the fort.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by the soft rhythm of your breathing. Dean’s mind churned, his eyes flicking to the door every few seconds. They didn’t even know what they were hunting yet, only that it was dangerous and starving.

The door creaked open, breaking the silence. Dean’s hand went to his weapon instinctively, but what stepped inside wasn’t Sam. It was a woman or at least, it appeared to be.

But the way she moved was wrong, her presence too eerie to be human. The lights stayed off as she glided toward the bed, her gaze fixed on you.

Either it was a vampire, or one of the rather rarer creatures - Pishtaco. Creatures that were as gruesome and cruel as vampires but they feasted on fat, not blood.

Just as she reached for you, the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked into place. Sam stood behind her, his expression grim.

“No way you’re getting out of here,” Sam said, his voice low.

Dean rose from his seat, his silver knife in his hand. “You picked the wrong motel, sweetheart.”

The creature hissed, its facade slipping to reveal its true form; its grotesque hunger evident in its hollow eyes.

Meanwhile the haze of unconsciousness began to lift, pulling you back to reality. The pills were too weak, it seems your body got used to them. Your eyelids felt heavy. Slowly, you stirred, your body sluggish and weighed down, as if you were moving through quicksand.

"Hey, she's waking up," Dean’s voice reached you, rough and laced with concern. Shit, that’s couldn’t be happening. You woke up during the wrong time.

Your eyes opened, the dim moonlight shining through the room. Dean was leaning over you, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the room.

Sam stood nearby, his posture tense but his expression kind. "How is she feeling?"

Your voice came out as a rasp. "Tired… sore." You tried to push yourself up, but Dean’s firm hand on your shoulder kept you grounded.

What was going on? And why where they holding weapons?

"Easy," he murmured. "Just rest."

You nodded weakly, your head still pounding, but a creeping unease was beginning to gnaw at the back of your mind. Something felt... off.

Dean stiffened instantly, moving between you and the woman. "Stay there," he ordered.

The pishtaco stepped closer, her movements slow, and unnervingly graceful. Her gaze locked onto you, and a chill ran down your spine.

"You shouldn’t have interfered," the beast said, her voice smooth as silk but dripping with malice. Her eyes flicked to Dean and Sam. "You have no idea what you're up against."

Dean scoffed, his stance widening. "Lady, we’ve taken down worse than you. You’re not walking out of here."

The Pishtaco laughed softly, the sound unnervingly melodic. "You don’t understand. I was only taking what I needed. She’s just another meal. But you… you’re getting in the way of nature."

"Nature?" Sam said, stepping to the side to cut off her retreat. "You’re murdering innocent women to feed your appetite. That’s not nature… that’s a monster."

Her expression darkened, “No one cares about those prostitutes. So why not taking them?“

Before anyone could react, she lunged toward the bed. Her speed was unnatural, a blur of movement that sent your heart racing.

Dean grabbed her mid-lunge, shoving her back with a grunt of effort. "Get out of here now!" he screamed at you, but your body was frozen in fear, unable to move.

You weren’t just bodily restricted but also high from the pills, making it hard to grasp what’s happening.

The Pishtaco hissed, her face twisting into something grotesque. She clawed at Dean, her nails slashing dangerously close to his face.

Sam dove in, wielding a silver blade, slashing at her side. The Pishtaco roared, spinning around to swat him away like he weighed nothing. He crashed into the dresser, yelling but alive.

Dean didn’t hesitate. He tackled the monster, slamming her against the wall.

"You’re not touching her," he insisted, his green eyes blazing with fury.

But the Pishtaco was stronger than she looked. With a growl, she twisted out of Dean’s grip and darted toward you. Her claws dug into your arm as she yanked you towards her, dragging you toward the door.

You felt so vulnerable and weak. Like a play toy.

"You want her? Come and get her!" she spat, her voice venomous.

You cried out in pain as her grip tightened, her nails digging into your skin. Crimson blood run down your revealed body, soaking your lingerie into a rich red.

"Fuck," you mumbled, your head spinning terribly.

Dean‘s head snapped toward you, his expression a mixture of rage and terror. "Let her go!"

The Pishtaco laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. "Oh, I don’t think so. She’s mine now. And I will feast on her beautiful fat. You’ll just have to find another way to play hero."

But Dean was already moving. In one swift motion, he grabbed the silver blade Sam had dropped and hurled it with deadly precision.

The blade struck the Pishtaco in the shoulder, and she howled in pain, her grip on you faltering. Dean surged forward, grabbing you and pulling you out of her grasp just as Sam regained his footing.

Again, Pishtaco lunged at you, but Sam interrupted her, driving a second silver blade into her chest. She screamed, her body convulsing from her wounds.

Dean held you tightly against his chest, shielding you from the sight as the Pishtaco let out one final cry before collapsing into ash.

The room fell silent, the only sound your guys ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart.

"You okay?" Dean asked, his voice low and steady, his arms still wrapped protectively around you.

You nodded shakily, unable to find your voice. Your entire body was trembling, but Dean’s presence was grounding. His warmth, his strength… it was enough to keep you from falling apart. As if your life hadn’t been difficult enough.

But what the hell was that?!

"She’s gone," Sam said, his voice weary but certain. "It’s over."

Dean pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cupping your face as his eyes scanned for any injuries. "She didn’t hurt you, did she?"

You shook your head. "No, just my arms… what the hell. This shit was mental. Thank you for…saving me?"

Dean’s lips quirked into a faint, reassuring smile. "Right, we did."

His thumb brushed against your cheek. The intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. A man rarely gazed your way without lust, but admiration.

"You’re safe now," he murmured, his voice softer.

"Well… whatever you define as safe," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean’s smile vanished, his eyes remained serious. "Don’t mention it."

Sam cleared his throat, stepping back from the scene. "We should… probably get out of here before anyone notices what happened."

Dean nodded but didn’t let go of you right away. His hands lingered on your arms for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours.

„Alright, we‘ll patch you up…“

The three of you made your way out of the room. Dean gave you his leather jacket to cover your bare body, and you couldn’t help but glance at Dean. Perhaps there were men who didn’t abuse your vulnerable position.

The way both had protected you, the way Dean had looked at you… it stirred something deep inside you. He didn’t view you as a mere prostitute but as a woman worth saving.

For a moment, you didn’t feel dirty and used.

And judging by the way his hand brushed yours as you walked, it seemed like he wanted you out of that business.